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The Basketball Diaries (film)

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The Basketball Diaries is a 1995 American drama film directed by Scott Kalvert, starring Leonardo DiCaprio, Lorraine Bracco, James Madic, and Mark Wahlberg from the non-fiction work of the same name. The film centers around Jim Carroll (DiCaprio), a promising teenage basketball player who develops an addiction to heroin with his misguided friends.

The true story of the death of innocence and the birth of an artist (taglines)

Jim Carroll

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  • HEY LADY! SHUT UP!
  • Mom, can you get me some money please?
  • Too bad, Father, I was starting to enjoy myself, Father.

Dialogue

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Mom: Hey Jim, you're not going to waste the whole day lying around are you?
Jim: Yeah Mom, I'm up. The loony alarm went off.
Mom: Well, close the blinds. Don't look at her and don't listen to her.
Jim: How can I not?

Crazy lady: Jesus the Nazarene, Mary the whore, Mary the hairdresser-
Jim: HEY LADY! SHUT UP!!

Pedro: You okay, Jim?
Jim: Yeah.
Pedro: Does it hurt?
Mickey: What? Do you want to rub it for him, Pedro?
Neutron: Yo Jim, give it a rest, man. You're never gonna beat him.
Mickey: The guy's a pervert, did you hear him? "We can do it again tomorrow if you like, Mr. Carroll."
Jim: C'mon. Let's cut out of here!

Jim: Mom, can you give some money PLEASE? Mom can you give me some money PLEASE! Stop [...] around!
(waits 5 minutes then shouts again)
Jim: Mom, give me some [...] money please! What are you doing! I'm your son!
Mom: I don't have any.
Jim: MOM DON'T [...] AROUND LIKE THIS! GIVE ME SOME MONEY!!! MOM!!!!!
(silent)
Jim: Come on! Let me in the [...] door!
(Jim waits but his mom doesn't answer. Jim begins to cry)
Jim: Oh, my God! Oh, [...]!
Jim: Let me in. I NEED SOME MONEY. I NEED SOME MONEY REAL BAD. Oh, [...].

Jim: Holy [...]! Look at this place!

Jim: I got six months in Riker's Island for assault, robbery, resisting arrest, and possession of narcotics. I sweated out a horrible cure and stayed clean the whole stretch, even though it's been easier to get good junk in here than it is on the street. Shit, it's been hard, man. All I've been doing is reading these diaries and wondering how the hell I'm still alive, and even if I care. Suffice to say that I'm finished with the asshole bandits of shower-room rape, and suffice to say that those swine guards won't draw blood from my ankles again. Suffice to say that I've been just thinking about dumb stuff, like what a nice concept it is to have a godmother and a godfather, wondering who my godparents might be. My mom won't visit me here, so I guess I'll just have to wait till I get home to ask.

Jim: Know this. There's different types of users of junk. You got your rich dilettante square-ass who dabbles now and then and always has enough money to run off to the Riviera if he feels he's fucking around to the danger point. Street junkies hate these pricks, but they're always suckers, and their money makes them tolerable. Then you got your upper-middle-class Westchester preppies... same as the others, basically. What they're good for is opening their mommy and daddy's eyes to this social virus and putting pressure on the government to do something about it. Then there's us street kids. Start fucking around very young, 13 or so... We think we all got it under control and won't get strung out. This rarely works. I'm living proof. But in the end, you just got to see the junk as another 9-to-5 gig. The hours are just a bit more inclined to shadows.

Taglines

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  • The true story of the death of innocence and the birth of an artist
  • Every punk on the block says it's not going to happen to them... but it does.

Cast

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Wikipedia
Wikipedia