Art School Confidential

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Art School Confidential is a 2006 American black dramedy film about Jerome who is a passionate artist albeit totally luckless with girls who enrolls at the Strathmore School of Art totally naive of the awriousness of professional artists.

Directed Terry Zwigoff, screenplay written by Daniel Clowes.
Who said anything about talent?(taglines)


  • [As a child dressed as Pablo Picasso] I am a genius. I am the greatest artist of the twentieth century. I pretty much invented modern art, and I do weird abstract paintings even though I could paint totally realistic if I wanted to. Also, even though I am super short and bald, I am able to have sex with any beautiful woman I want just because I'm so great.


  • I've gotta cream soma kinda love story into this thing man. Skanks, make up fifty per cent of the audience
  • Man, if she were my girlfriend, I'd be pounding that night and day.

Professor Sandiford[edit]

  • Now, everyone don't be so hard on Jerome. He is attempting to achieve the impossible. He is trying to sing in his own voice using someone else's vocal cords.
  • Now I don't have any particular wisdom to impart to you people, except to say this, these four words - don't have unrealistic expectations. If you want to make money, better drop out right now, go to banking school, or website school - anywhere but art school. And remember, only 1 out of 100 of you will ever make a living as an artist.


  • The history of art is largely about the implementation of masculinity.That is such bullshit.Part of some Darwinian imperative. Most artists become artists because they have no way to attract a mate. I hardly think I'm the first to point out that the vast preponderance of artists are, shall we say physiologically deficient in some way.


  • Jerome, are you exceptionally skilled as a cocksucker? It wasn't a rhetorical question. Are you a great artist when it comes to fellatio?


  • [Holding up clay pipe] This is ready for the kiln.
  • The only trouble with that is: all those beatnik chicks are totally insane. Look. What you really want is a nice, innocent, suburban girl. Some freshman chick who hasn't been corrupted yet.

Broadway Bob D'Annunzio[edit]

  • I know you're a genius, but I'm a genius too.

Marvin Bushmiller[edit]

  • Shut up. Look. There's really only one question any of you want to ask: you want to know what it would take to turn you into me. Well, listen closely, 'cause I'm gonna give you the answer. In order to be a great artist, you simply have to *be* a great artist. There's nothing to learn. So... you're all wasting your time. Go home.


  • Nympho: [to Jerome] I just want you to know I *definitely* don't have AIDS. I mean, I've been tested like 40 times so I know for a fact.


Friend: [Observing Jerome's drawing] Pretty good.
Jerome: Thanks.
Friend: Some day, if you get famous, this can be worth a lot of money. You're wasting your time, Jerome. You gotta set your sights on a more realistic girl. Shit, here comes Stoob.
Stoob: Hey, pencil-prick, thanks for helping me with that poster for Erikson's class. He said I was a natural artist.
Friend: A natural scam artist.
Stoob: Got that right, queer-bait. What's this? [Grabs brochure] Are you jacking off in school now?
Friend: It's a college brochure, you moron.
Stoob: What college has a naked chick for a teacher?
Friend: She's an art model, you stupid ape.
Stoob: Hey. You're all right, Platz.
Friend: I don't know, Jerome. It just seems a little too good to be true.

Vince: [On phone] Don't you think?! Fucking shit! Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's based on the whole thing with the campus murder, but... Hell no, it ain't no boring-ass documentary. Look, forget that shit, okay? Yeah, fucking A, there's gonna be tons of action, are you kidding me? [To Jerome] You're an art major?
Jerome: Yeah. Drawing and painting. What are you guys?
Vince: I'm fashion. He's film, I guess.
Jerome: Are you for real? You're shitting me, right?
Jerome: Well, yeah.
Vince: God, this is so depressing.
Jerome: Why, what's wrong?
Vince: I just really, really miss my girlfriend. One hundred percent. Yeah, you won't be sorry. I love you too, Grandpa. Yes! Yes! I'm so fucking pumped! I'm Vince.
Jerome: Hi. Jerome. How are you? What's your name again?
Matthew: Matthew.
Vince: God, I'm so fucking jazzed. I get to make my movie.
Jerome: That's fantastic.
Vince: You guys freshmen?
Jerome: Yeah. You a sophomore?
Vince: Junior. It's all right. You listen to me, you'll be okay.
Matthew: Why do you still live in the dorm?
Vince: A lot of juniors still live in the dorm. What's wrong with that? That guy's some hot shit sculpture major.
Jerome: I have never seen so many beautiful girls.
Vince: This is nothing. Dude, you should've seen last year's crop. Enrollment's way off since the murders.
Jerome: What murders?
Vince: You're shitting me, right?
Jerome: I heard about it. Somebody killed a guy on campus, or whatever.
Vince: Yeah. Three people in the neighborhood since March. You're fucking with me. You've never heard about the Strathmore Strangler? He killed a guy, like, 10 days ago. Are you from out of state?
Jerome: The suburbs.
Vince: Then you have no excuse. What about Richard Natwick?
Matthew: Jesus.
Jerome: Sorry, I don't really follow the news.
Vince: Okay, I'm gonna give you the story... You gotta pay attention. Because this story is huge. This is, like, national news, man.
Jerome: I'm listening.
Vince: Just after the first murder, there's this guy, Richard Natwick. He's, like, some second-year painting major. Does these stupid-ass word paintings. He has a show at the student center. Cops send some guys to check it out. But they're not used to this kind of artsy bullshit, right?
Matthew: Fucking...
Vince: Cut your shit. Get used to being bent over, prick. So then a couple of professors freak out. And before you know it, he's like a fucking martyr. Art is not a crime! Art is not a crime! Of course, it turns out he's completely innocent. And the cops have to totally eat shit.
Jerome: So, what happened to him?
Vince: He had his 15 minutes of fame. Then he got hurt real bad in some crazy-ass performance art thing. Okay... hit the juice. Anyway, you gotta read my script. I mean, it's all in there. It's totally huge. So, what, you don't get the paper in the suburbs? I mean, for all they know, the killer could be from the suburbs. Those cops, they don't know shit. So, what, you're a drawing major?
Jerome: Yeah. Drawing and painting.
Vince: That's awesome. I hear you guys get to see tons of naked vagina.

Professor: First pose, people. We're gonna hit the ground running. Okay, first pose. I don't have any particular wisdom to impart to you people, except this: These four words: Don't have unrealistic expectations. If you wanna make money, better drop out right now. Go to banking school or website school. Anywhere but art school. And remember, only one out of 100 of you... will ever make a living as an artist.

Student: [Follows professor] Professor? Professor? Professor Okamura? What is your attendance policy for this class?
Professor Okamura: I... [Writes on chalkboard] don't... care... [To student] if you come to class or not.
Bardo: Jesus. Why are the people in these freshman classes exactly the same every year? Look. You got the vegan holy man. The boring blowhard. The angry lesbian.
Student: Professor? Professor? Professor?
Professor Okamura: And here, you got kiss-ass.
Student: I wanted to tell you that I looked up some of your paintings on the Internet. I thought they were really terrific.
Professor Okamura: You get an "A" for the class.
Bardo: And Mom.
Middle-aged woman: I feel that I am finally about to ripen. Artistically.
Bardo: Mom's youngest just left the nest, so she's ready to explore her creative side.
Jerome: How do you know all this stuff?
Bardo: I'm a living cliché just like the rest of these guys. I'm the guy who keeps dropping out and changing his major just because he's afraid he really sucks at everything. This is ready for the kiln.
Bardo: Let me see if I got this right; You're the guy that never got laid in high school. So you came here to try to bone your way through... an endless lineup of art skanks.
Jerome: Not exactly. I mean, I really do wanna be an artist. A great artist, you know, if possible.
Bardo: Which enables you to bone your way through a lineup of art skanks. So why wait, man? Art school's like a pussy buffet.
Jerome: I don't want just any girl.
Bardo: All right. There she is. There is the beautiful beatnik art chick of your dreams.
Jerome: Yeah, so?
Bardo: So ask her to borrow something. It's the easiest thing in the world. Want me to teach you? Daddy will bring you there. [Shoves Jerome towards her]
Jerome: Jesus...
Bardo: Come on.
Jerome: Hi, do you think I could borrow your pencil?
Beatnik girl: Why? What for?
Jerome: Doesn't matter, it was a stupid idea.
Beatnik girl: Oh, my God. You have the most beautiful eyes. You have to let me take a picture of them.
Jerome: Okay.
[Jerome is in beatnik girl's apartment with her crying]
Jerome: How about pizza? Do you wanna go get pizza?
[She screams at him, then starts laughing then resumes crying]
[They're outside in the campus quad and Bardo observes a girl across from them]
Bardo: The only trouble with that is: all those beatnik chicks are totally insane. Look. What you really want is a nice, innocent, suburban girl. Some freshman chick who hasn't been corrupted yet.
[In her apartment and she's playing with stuffed animals]
Girl: Stay out of that cave, Koala Bear. There's snakes and bats. Don't be silly, Pepper. I'm not afraid of a little snake.
Bardo: You know, come to think of it, they're all insane. Just find yourself some nympho slut and get it over with.
Nympho: [In class] Excuse me. Can you help me get this off?
Nympho: I want you to know, I definitely don't have AIDS. I've been tested, like, 40 times, so I know it for a fact. [Baby starts crying] Keep the fucking kid quiet, you motherfucking asshole! [To Jerome] It's just my old man.
Vince: Are you serious? You've never been laid before?
Jerome: It just hasn't worked out yet. I have very high standards.
Vince: Man, I gotta take you out whore-busting some night. We gotta remedy this situation before it gets any worse.
Matthew: Maybe you have issues that make it difficult, to feel comfortable with your own sexuality.
Jerome: Could be, I guess.
Vince: You guys know what whore-busting is, right? You leave the money on the dresser, fuck the whore and go to sleep. You wake up, not only is your money still there, but she's left you a tip. It's the fucking greatest deal ever, man. Crackheads aren't so good. Their tip is a little glass pipe and a piece of tinfoil. You don't want that shit. Get a nice call girl or something, you know? You fuck a lot of chicks, Matthew?
Matthew: Yeah, I figured, man. Fashion, and all that shit. Models...
Vince: Crack whores, call girls, strippers... We could bust some strippers together, that'd be fucking awesome.

Professor: What is art? Is this art? Or this? Or this? Who's that? Ignore that. That's a mistake. Hamlet. War and Peace. "Beethoven's 9th". Guernica. These are works which hold as much emotional resonance today... as they did at the time of their creation. What makes a work of art timeless? What qualities must it possess? [Student raises her hand] Yes?
Student 1: Everything on your list... was done by a dead white male.
Student 2: I noticed that too.
Professor: To be clear, they were not yet dead when they created those works.
Student 1: You're just playing into the patriarchy.
Student 2: The history of art is largely about the implementation of masculinity.
Student 3: That is such bullshit.
Student 4: Part of some Darwinian imperative.
Professor: Most artists become artists because... they have no way to attract a mate. I hardly think I'm the first to point out... that the vast preponderance of artists are, shall we say... physiologically deficient in some way.

[Marvin Bushmiller is giving a speech in the auditorium and answering questions]
Student: Mr. Bushmiller, The New York Times has called your work: "An expedition to the far contours of an evolving techno-culture." With that in mind, where do you see art headed in the 21st century?
Marvin: "Art" who? No, really, that's such... a stupid question. Why don't you ask me something relevant. Ask me how much money I have in the bank, or...
Student: Did you learn anything at Strathmore?
Marvin: Yes, I learned many things. I learned that the faculty is made up of old failures... who teach only because they need the health insurance. Present company excluded, of course. I was about to say. David was too busy trolling the halls for fresh meat to worry about health.
Student: What advice would you give to a young artist...
Marvin: Shut up. There's only one question any of you wanna ask. You wanna know what it would take to turn you into me. Well, listen closely, because I'm gonna give you the answer. In order to be a great artist... you simply have to be a great artist. There's nothing to learn, so you're all wasting your time. Go home.
Bardo: Why are you such an asshole?!
Marvin: Now that's a great question. No, really. It really is. I am an asshole because... that is my true nature. Maybe it's everybody's true nature. Every single one of you looks like a fuckin' asshole to me, but... who knows? The difference between you and me is that I have gained the freedom to express my true nature. And what could be more beautiful than truth and freedom? Another day, another dollar.

Professor Sandiford: Now Eno, why haven't you been doing the assignments?
Eno: Frankly, I find them constricting and largely irrelevant. My work has nothing to with form or light or color, but with questioning the nature of aesthetic experience.
Professor Sandiford: I'll buy that.

Eno: It has the singularity of outsider art,though the conscious rejection of spatial dynamics could only come from an intimacy with the conventions of picture-making.
Jerome: Are you kidding me?

Jimmy: [to Jerome] So... Who do you like? [Jerome is confused by the question, so Jimmy rephrases it] Who's your favorite artist, Jerome?
Jerome: [Uncomfortable pause] Maybe, Picasso?
Jimmy: I see... Very good... Our old friend "Pig-Ass-Hole," the nasty little dwarf who went his whole life without a single original thought... I presume you're joking, right?
Bardo: [Jerome is too uncomfortable to speak, but Bardo nonchalantly chimes in] Jimmy's a Strathmore grad.
Jimmy: Just look at me now!... Just think, Jerome, some day all this could be yours. You're going places, young man. I can feel it. But you really need to take some lessons in sucking cock and licking ass. Otherwise you might find yourself rotting away in some shit-hole, postponing suicide for the slim chance that you might one day, possibly, see some glorious plague or pestilence bring horrible suffering to your hateful species. [Jerome and Bardo look at each other in shocked silence, then let out uncomfortable snickers] What are you smiling about? [Jerome only shrugs, an uncomfortable grin etched on his face] Laugh away, laughing boy! I will stomp on your guts till they shoot out your ass! I will bury you alive and shit on your grave!

Jerome: You were right about art. It's all about the cock-sucking.
Jimmy: It's not what you do, but who you blow.

Audrey: [Introducing herself to Jerome while at Shiloh's photo exhibit] Oh, hi. I'm Audrey, by the way.
Bardo: [Butting in] So is that your real name, or are you just obsessed with Audrey Hepburn like every other art school chick?
Audrey: [Unperturbed, holding up her necklace pendant] Actually, I was named after an old cartoon.
Bardo: Oh, wow! Another ironic pop-culture reference. She's a keeper!
[Goes off to help himself to more free refreshments]

Audrey: Hey, Jerome Platz.
Jerome: Hey, I was just calling... To... I've got... I've gotta go home for Thanksgiving, and I was wondering... if you had any plans, if, maybe, you wanted to come with me...
Audrey: Unfortunately, I have to go up north to visit my grandmother. But that's really nice of you.
Jerome: No...
Audrey: Don't be silly. Have a great time. I'll talk to you soon.
Jerome: Okay. Bye.
Audrey: Take care. Bye.
Cynthia: I think maybe I'll go on tour with Dominick's band this summer. They're playing shows in the Midwest. They need someone to sell T-shirts.
Mother: Who's Dominick?
Cynthia: This guy, who's friends with Stacy's big brother. Forget about it. God, you are so unfair. Jerome gets to go to art school, and I can't go on a summer trip. You gonna get a job doing paintings somewhere once school's done?
Jerome: That's not really how it works.
Cynthia: Who in their right mind would buy your paintings?
Mother: Cynthia.
Cynthia: God, you love Jerome more than me.
Father: You know what you gotta do? Figure out who's the top guy in your business and hook up with him. It's not what you do so much as who you know. That's how it is in my business, and it's all about business.
Jerome: Yeah. Actually, I've kind of made a connection already. My girlfriend's dad is kind of a famous artist, so...
Father: Your what?
Mother: Hugh... help me get the rest of the pies out of the oven? [The parents go to kitchen and swinging door reveals them hugging and celebrating]
Cynthia: We thought for sure you were a homo.
Grandmother: My friend's granddaughter paints little pictures on the shoes... Oh, what do you call them? Anyhow, she paints pictures of little animals and whatnot. And I believe the other children pay her for it. "Sneakers." Isn't that what they call them? Anyhow, that's something I thought you could do, Jeremy.


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