Men in Black (film)

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Men in Black is a 1997 film about a street-smart cop from the New York City Police Department who is recruited by a veteran government agent to a secret government agency that monitors and polices alien activity on Earth, unbeknownst to the public.

Directed by Barry Sonnenfeld. Written by Ed Solomon, based on The Men in Black by Lowell Cunningham.
Protecting the earth from the scum of the universe.

Agent K

  • A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals, and you know it!
  • 1,500 years ago, everybody knew that the Earth was the center of the universe. 500 years ago, everybody knew that the Earth was flat. And 15 minutes ago, you knew that humans were alone on this planet. Imagine what you'll know tomorrow.
  • Imagine a giant cockroach, with unlimited strength, a massive inferiority complex, and a real short temper, is tear-assing around Manhattan island in a brand new Edgar suit. That sound like fun?
  • No, ma'am. We at the FBI do not have a sense of humor we're aware of.

James Darrell Edwards / Agent J

  • You see this?! Huh?! NYPD! Means I will knock your punk-ass down!
  • [to Agent K, while wearing his suit for the first time] You know what the difference is between you and me? I make this look good.
  • Well, well. Big, bad Bug got a bit of a soft spot, huh? What I can't understand is, why you gotta come down here bringing all this ruckus! Snatching up galaxies and everything. My attitude is: don't start nothin', won't be nothin'!

Dr. Laurel Weaver

  • [examining Rosenberg's corpse] Oh, my God! [laughs] Whoa, buddy, what are you?
  • [to Agents K and J] Interesting job you guys have.


  • [voiceover, as Edwards becomes Agent J] You'll dress only in attire specially sanctioned by MIB Special Services. You'll conform to the identity we give you, eat where we tell you, live where we tell you. From now on, you'll have no identifying marks of any kind. You'll not stand out in any way. Your entire image is crafted to leave no lasting memory with anyone you encounter. You're a rumor, recognizable only as déjà vu and dismissed just as quickly. You don't exist. You were never even born. Anonymity is your name, silence your native tongue. You're no longer part of the System. You are above the System. Over it. Beyond it. We're "them". We're "they". We are the Men in Black.
  • Containment may be a moot point, old friend. The exodus continues. It's like the party's over and the last one to leave gets stuck with the check.


[Alien spaceship crashes into Edgar's truck. Edgar surveys the wreckage while his wife watches from the door.]
Edgar: Figures.
Beatrice: What the heck is it, Edgar?
Edgar: Get your big butt back in the house! [He grabs a shotgun and walks to the crater]
Bug: Place projectile weapon on the ground.
Edgar: You can have my gun [He cocks it] when you pry it from my cold dead fingers.
Bug: Your proposal is acceptable.
[The Bug seizes Edgar and pulls him down into the pit.]

[K and James are walking down a corridor at MIB headquarters. K hands James a file.]
Agent K: Back in the mid-1950s the government started a little, underfunded agency with the simple and laughable purpose of establishing contact with a race not of this planet. ... Everybody thought the agency was a joke, except the aliens who made contact March 2, 1961, outside New York. There were nine of us the first night: seven agents, one astronomer, and one dumb kid who got lost on the wrong back road.
James: [He notices a picture of agents giving an alien flowers] Aww, you brought that tall man some flowers.
[K points]
Agent K: This way. They were a group of intergalactic refugees. Wanted to the use the earth as an apolitical zone for ... creatures without a planet. Did you ever seen the movie Casablanca?
[James nods]
Agent K: Same thing, 'cept no Nazis.
James: Oh.
Agent K: We agreed, and we concealed all the evidence of their landing.
[James looks at a picture]
James: Uh-huh, so these are real flying saucers, and the World's Fair was just a cover-up for their landing.
Agent K: Why else would we hold it in Queens? More non-humans arrive every year and they live among us in secret.
James: Uh, look, I'm sorry, not to change the subject or anything, but when was the last time you had a CAT scan?
Agent K: 'Bout six months ago, it's company policy.
James: Right, you should make another appointment. Um, look, tell your boy Zed I had an absolutely wonderful time, and thank you for everything, but... [He hands the file back] ...why don't you show me the door?

Agent K: [He neuralyzes Beatrice after she tells them her story] Alright, Beatrice, there was no alien. The flash of light you saw in the sky was not a UFO. Swamp gas from a weather balloon was trapped in a thermal pocket, and refracted light from Venus.
Agent J: Wait, wait, wait a minute. So, you just flash that thing, it erases her memory, and you just come up with a new one?
Agent K: A standard issue Neuralyzer.
Agent J: And that weak-ass story's the best you can come up with?
Agent K: Yeah. [to Beatrice] On a more personal note, Beatrice, Edgar ran off with an old girlfriend. You're gonna go stay with your mom a couple nights, you're gonna get over it, and decide you're better off.
Agent J: Well, yeah, 'cause, 'cause, he never appreciated you anyway. In fact, you know what, you kicked him out! And now that he's gone, you're gonna go downtown, you'll go and go to Bloomingdale's, get yourself some nice dresses, get yourself some shoes, go somewhere maybe, get a facial, and, uh, oh, hire a decorator to come into this place quick, 'cause, damn!

[A police officer pushes a stretcher with Rosenberg's corpse and a cat on top.]
Police Officer: Where do you want contestant number three?
Dr. Laurel Weaver: Just leave it there.
[Laurel walks over.]
Dr. Laurel Weaver: What's with the cat?
Police Officer: Uh, the cat. Yeah, well, there's a problem with the cat. [He hands her a clipboard] Sign here.
Dr. Laurel Weaver: What's the problem with the cat?
Police Officer: It's your problem. Heh, heh. [He leaves]
Dr. Laurel Weaver: [to herself] I hate the living.

Agent J: Dr., uh... Whatever, come here.
Dr. Laurel Weaver: Dr. Whatever? Hey, you guys aren't really from the Department of Health, are you?
Agent K: Rosenberg. [sees the alien] Aw, damn! The Arquillians are not gonna like this. This guy was one of the royal family.
Dr. Laurel Weaver: I knew it. This is an alien, and you guys are from some government agency trying to keep it under wraps.

Dr. Laurel Weaver: [still disoriented from being Neuralyzed] Hey, whoever you guys are, you're going to have to show me some ID if you're gonna be in the morgue.
Agent K: Oh, yes, of course, young lady. Have a look at this for me, please. [He neuralyzes her]
Agent J: Would you stop that?!
Agent K: What?!
Agent J: Th—that thing is gonna give her brain cancer or something!
Agent K: Never hurt her before. Look, we've gotta get all the doors closed around here. Special Services'll be here any minute.
Agent J: Wh—"Never hurt her before"?! How many times have you flashy-thinged that poor woman?
Agent K: Couple.
Agent J: So, are you not worried about no long-term damage?
Agent K: A little.
Agent J: K, have you ever flashy-thing me?
Agent K: No.
Agent J: I ain't playing with you, K, have you ever flashy-thing me?
Agent K: No.

Agent K: Zed, we're running out of time here, if that bug gets off the planet with that galaxy, we're all bug food.
Agent J: Hey, old guys! [He points to a mural of the Flushing Meadows-Corona Park observation towers, previously explained as having been built from spaceships] Do those still work?

Agent K: [To MIB Special Services] Alright, we got two dead aliens and a deputy medical examiner who needs a new memory.
One of the agents: Yes, sir.
Agent K: [off J's look] Make it a happy memory.

[Facing off with Edgar in the morgue]

Agent K: Freeze it, bug!

Dr. Laurel Weaver: Christ, you are thick!

Agent J: Look, how was I supposed to know?

Dr. Laurel Weaver: What did I have to do, sing it for you?

Agent J: Well, if you weren't coming on like some drunken prom date...

Dr. Laurel Weaver: Oh, that is so typical! Any woman who show yet the slightest head of sexual independence...!

Edgar: Oh, everybody shut up!

Agent K: Let her go, shit-eater.

Edgar: Now, listen, monkey-boy, compared to you humans, I'm on the top rung of the evolutionary latter! So can it, alright?

Agent K: You're breaking my heart. Show me your face and I'll cure all your ills.

Edgar: You've ever pulled the wings off a fly? Do you care to see the fly get even?!

Agent K: How far are you gonna get without your ship, if that's what that piece of junk is we've got locked up in the office?

Edgar: Put your weapons down!

Agent K: Never gonna happen, insect.

Agent J: It's okay, Laurel.

Dr. Laurel Weaver: How it it okay?

Agent J: I'm sayin' it's gonna be okay.

Edgar: Don't bet on it, meat sack!

Dr. Laurel Weaver.: You don't wanna eat me. I'm a very important person on my planet. Like a queen. A goddess, even. There are those who worship me. I'm not telling you this to try to impress you, I'm just letting you know, it could start a war.
Edgar: Good. War. That means more food for my family, all seventy-eight million of them. That's a lot of mouths to feed, Your Highness.
Dr. Laurel Weaver: You're a wonderful dad, but I'm staying here.

Agent J: You do know Elvis is dead, right?
Agent K: No, Elvis is not dead, he just went home.

[After K's retirement, Dr. Weaver has joined MIB as J's new partner, Agent L]
Agent L: Hey, J! Zed called. The High Councilor from Solaxian 9 wants floor seats for the Knicks–Bulls game.
Agent J: All right, let's put in a call to Dennis Rodman. He's from that planet.
Agent L: Rodman? You're kidding.
Agent J: Nope.
Agent L: Not much of a disguise.


See also

External links

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