The Punisher (2004 film)

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The Punisher is a 2004 film about a former Special Forces soldier and FBI agent who starts a one-man war on crime after his family is murdered by gangsters, in retaliation for their boss's own son's demise. Based on the Marvel Comics character.

Directed by Jonathan Hensleigh. Written by Jonathan Hensleigh and Michael France.
"Not vengeance. Punishment."

Frank Castle

  • God, I hate this job. (While climbing out of a body bag.)
  • Good business, murder? Does Saint pay you for each one, or does he get a group-rate discount?
  • You shouldn't play with knives.
  • God's gonna sit this one out.
  • (v.o., from trailer) They murdered my family. They thought they murdered me. My actions are not vengeance. No, not vengeance. Punishment.
  • (v.o.) I leave this as a declaration of intent so no one will be confused. Number one: Sic vis pacem, para bellum. Latin. The boot-camp sergeant made us recite it like a prayer. Sic vis pacem, para bellum - "If you want peace, prepare for war."
  • (v.o.) Number two: Frank Castle is dead. He died with his family. Number three: In certain extreme situations, the law is inadequate. In order to shame its inadequacy it is necessary to act outside the law. To pursue... natural justice. This is not vengeance. Revenge is not a valid motive, it's an emotional response. No, not vengeance. Punishment.
  • You look like a strong kid. You must work out. Ever try isometrics? This antipersonnel mine weighs eight pounds. Not much, but try holding it with an outstretched arm. Hell of a workout.
  • I made you kill your best friend. I made you kill your wife. And now I've killed you.
  • (lighting a blowtorch) It won't hurt at first. It's too hot, you see? The flame sears the nerve endings shut, killing them. You'll go into shock, and all you'll feel is... cold. Then it'll hurt. Isn't science fun, Micky?
  • (Last lines, v.o.)Those who do evil to others - the killers, the rapists, psychos, sadists - will come to know me well. Frank Castle is dead. Call me...the Punisher.

Howard Saint

  • The man responsible for my son's death must die.
  • Thank you for that explanation. (just before shooting the person addressed.)
  • Fourteen shipments are perfect. One goes bad and I get this - why? Because you want to scare me? There's no insurance in this business, you know that. So I'm not covering your fucking losses! And Mike, if you don't like it, just remember one thing: I've got more guns than you do.
  • It's YOUR duty to make Castle DEAD! I don't care what it takes, what it costs. Call the Russian.
  • Close the club. Bring everyone in. We're going hunting.
  • Do you recognize the neighborhood - Little Cuba? Just think - the first time I saw you was only three blocks from here. Of course, the neighborhood was so much more colorful then. Now it's just for whores. You'll fit right in.
  • Fifty thousand dollars apiece, and fifty thousand more to the man who kills him. If you accept this money, you're in till it's over.

Quentin Glass

  • You're a small piece of shit and I don't want the karma of your death on my conscience.
  • We called New York, we called Las Vegas, we called Europe and Hong Kong, we even got the Sicilians in it for old times' sake. With what you're paying, Howard, we'll know everything there is to know about Otto Krieg in twenty-four hours.
  • In forty-eight hours, Castle is a memory. A pro from Memphis - the best.
  • With all due respect, we don't have more guns. It's my duty to inform you...
  • Okay, why don't you and I see if we can discover the true nature of pain?
  • If they knew, they would've told. They must not have known.

Harry Heck

  • I can hear what you're thinking, all your doubts and fears,
And if you look in my eye, in time you'll find the reason I'm here.
And in time all things shall pass away, and in time you may come back some day
To live once more,
Or die once more,
But in time your time will be no…more. (sung)
  • I know you. You're that boy in the newspaper... came back from the dead.
  • You like that song? I wrote it for you. I'm gonna sing it at your funeral.
  • You are one dumb son-of-a-bitch. Bringing a knife to a gunfight. [Castle triggers the ballistic knife, firing the blade into Heck's neck and killing him]


  • We want you to have dinner with us.
  • Good memories can save your life.
  • I don't know much, but I'm good with a needle. Don't ask.
  • You're gonna die tonight, aren't you? Is that what you want?


  • "You - are insignificant. You - are a coward. You - are a great disappointment to your mother and I!" [the camera turns to reveal the character in Dave's computer game, of whom he is speaking]
  • "No one's ever stood up for me before."
  • "Mr. Castle, we, uh, need your help right now, because the guy who's after Joan... is in her apartment. Right now."
  • "They tried to make me talk. I gave them nothing."


  • Maria Castle: You and I - we're not lucky. We are blessed.
  • Frank Castle, Sr.: I bored the chambers and customized the triggers, and added some compensators. They used to be pretty good, but now they're nail-drivers.
  • John Saint: (just before he shoots Frank) My father and mother send their regards. This time they're not blanks.
  • Micky Duka: You're supposed to be dead!
  • Micky Duka: Quentin Glass. Been with Howard twenty years. The family consigliere, lawyer, CPA... and a sadist. Who knows what's going on with this guy?
  • Micky Duka: You are not a nice person.
  • Mike Toro: Our mother always put her cash in the mattress, which, I thought it was a good idea - until the house burned down. It was a big fire. She lost everything. That's what happens when you don't watch your money. You lose everything, Howard. Everything.


Jimmy Weeks: To Frank Castle – the finest soldier, the finest undercover op, the finest man I've ever known. What will I do without you?
Frank Castle: Get a girlfriend.

(Quentin Glass watches impassively while three hoodlums beat and kick Micky Duka.)
Quentin Glass: You sell homegrown pot by the ounce, Micky, not by the barrel. You sell badly-forged fake passports to Haitians. So what inspired you to become the Mr. Universe of international arms dealers? Micky, you should apologize for the death of Mr. Saint's youngest son.
Micky Duka: Okay, I know how it looks, but Bobby, he buys pot from me. And, and when he found out what I was doing, he insisted on coming in. He put up half the cash. He came of his own free will! (One of the hoodlums kicks him.) If you're gonna kill me, will you leave my face alone - for my mother?
Quentin Glass: We just made your bail. Now, if I'd wanted to kill you I would have left you in jail, where we have friends, and in a way I can only describe as deeply pornographic, you would have been killed. But you're a small piece of shit, and I don't want the Karma of your death on my conscience. But on the other hand, maybe I don't believe in karma. So, guys–
Micky Duka: No, no, no! I'll tell you anything you wanna know!
Quentin Glass: Then this'll be quick. I want to know one thing only: who brokered the deal?
Micky Duka: His name's Otto Krieg. And if it's any comfort to Mr. Saint, he's dead too.
Howard Saint, (entering): Well, it's not. It's actually no comfort at all. But what might be comforting to me is watching the slow death of the man who was supposed to be taking care of my son and making sure he did not get into trouble. Now, Micky, what would your father think of this? Your father gave his life for me. What would he say?
Micky Duka: I didn't know it was gonna happen like this. Please!
Howard Saint: Well, ignorance is no excuse. The man who is responsible for my son's death must die.
(Howard pulls out his gun, and aims it at Micky, but actually shoots one of his henchmen with it.)
Howard Saint: I told you to never let him out of your sight.
Henchman: Mr. Saint, Bobby told me to stay. Tell him, John. John!
(Howard shoots him again)
Henchman: Mr. Saint! It was Bobby's idea! He wanted to go alone! He thought he could impress you, or something.
Howard Saint: Thank you for that explanation.
(Howard shoots him again, this time, killing him. He looks to his other henchmen.)
Howard Saint: My son didn't need to impress me.

(At the city morgue)
Howard Saint: He was such a special boy...
Jimmy Weeks: Sir, are you confirming that this is your son, Robert Saint?
Howard Saint: He deserved better. Someone lied to him - promised him one thing, gave him another. Do you know that I used to have to dress him till he was thirteen? I'd tie his ties and comb his hair…I'll have to get him a new suit. (He kisses his son's forehead.) Who is Otto Krieg? Who are the people who work for him? Who are his friends? Who would stand to make money from this deal? Tell me.
Jimmy Weeks: We can't talk about the case, Mr. Saint. Now, I understand your grief, but for your own safety, leave this to the professionals.
Howard Saint: Professionals... yes. I'll do that. I'll do that. Goodbye, son.

Quentin Glass: His real name's Frank Castle. Senior agent, just got the Bureau's London desk. His alias, connections, apartments in Europe-none of it was real. Not even his death.
Howard Saint: Well, maybe it was. Maybe he died and came back to life so he could die again.
Quentin Glass: You have your chance. He's leaving for London next week, and he's at a family reunion in Puerto Rico.
Howard Saint: I think you should be there, so you can come back and tell Livia how he dies.
Quentin Glass: All right.
Livia Saint: Wait. (She lifts her veil.) His family. His whole family.

Candelaria: Vaya con Dios, Castle. Go with God.
Frank Castle: God's gonna sit this one out.

Howard Saint, (raising his glass): To Bobby.
Quentin Glass and John Saint: To Bobby.
Livia Saint: To a score settled.

(Neighbors watch while Frank Castle revs his souped-up car's engine.)
Bumpo: It's really loud. Is it supposed to be that loud?
Dave: Oh, it's beautiful!
Joan: He hasn't slept all week.
Bumpo: How do you know?
Joan: 'Cause I haven't slept all week.

Micky Duka: Stay away from me, Castle! I got friends, you know.
Frank Castle: Let's talk about your friends.
Micky Duka: Make your own friends, buddy. I'm not saying nothin'. I talk to you, they'll kill me.
Frank Castle: If you don't help me, I'll kill you now, Mick.
Micky Duka: The Saints tell me nothing!
Frank Castle: Nothing? They pay your rent... your legal bills. You should know something.
(Frank lights up a blow torch in front of Micky)
Micky Duka: What's the torch for?
Frank Castle: Two thousand degrees, Mick. Enough to turn steel into butter. It won't hurt at first. It's, uh, too hot, you see? The flame sears the nerve endings shut, killing them. Then you'll go into shock... and all you'll feel is... cold. Isn't science fun, Micky?
Micky Duka: I-I don't know shit!
Frank Castle: You'll smell burning meat, and then...then, it'll hurt.
[Frank goes behind the tied-up Mickey and uses the blow-torch on a steak and rubs Micky's back with a popsicle, and Micky flips out, thinking he's torching his back]
Frank Castle: Smell that, Mick? I'm burning off some of your fat.
Micky Duka: I'LL TELL YOU ANYTHING! Anything, anything you wanna know.
Frank Castle: That's a good boy.
Micky Duka: Okay, any involvement in Howard Saint's business involves two Cubans: the Toro brothers. They control all the prostitution and gambling, up and down the gulf coast. Tons of cash. They give their dirty money to Howard Saint, who transports it in cigarette boats to his banks in Grand Haven; washes it, and wires it back clean as a whistle.
[Frank jabs him in the back]
Micky Duka: FU--! FOR THE LOVE OF GO-! [Castle sticks a popsicle in his mouth and lowers him]
Micky Duka: You are not a nice person. So, what's up, you gonna string up Howard Saint and blowtorch him?
Frank Castle: I like that idea. But I have something better. And guess what? You're gonna help me. Unless you wanna stay Howard Saint's lackey for the rest of your life.
Micky Duka: I hate the Saints. All of them.
Frank Castle: Tell me about them. What do they do; where, when.
Micky Duka: Howard Saint's a man of strict habits. He has first tee time five days a week at Tampa Springs. Never fails. He likes money, he likes power. But the thing this guy covets most, the wife, Livia. What happened to your family, Howard did that for her. She's just like him, and she's just as predictable. Every Thursday, she works out, gets her nails done and goes to the movies. Howard knows every move this broad makes. Any man who looks at her wrong, he ends up in Tampa Bay. Let's not forget Johnny boy, the son you didn't kill. What a putz. Last, but not least, Quentin Glass. Been with Howard 20 years-- the family consigliere, lawyer, CPA and a sadist. Who knows what's going on with this guy.

(Dave and Bumpo hear agonized screams coming from Castle's apartment.)
Bumpo: Should we call the police?
Dave: Let's... stay out of it. He's a very scary man.
Bumpo: He's killing someone and we're next.
Dave: Exactly!

(John calls his father, who's out golfing)
John Saint: (on the phone) Pop? You're not gonna believe this.
Howard Saint: Oh, I think I might.
(the camera pans down to reveal Frank Castle's headstone, dumped near a hole)

(Castle shows up at a press conference at police headquarters.)
Frank Castle: Hey, Jimmy.
Jimmy Weeks: Jesus, Frank! Where have you been?
Frank Castle: I got shot. I woke up. That's what I remember. You subpoena me, that's what I'll say. It's been five months since my family was killed. I don't see one man in jail.
Chief Morris: Obviously, you're upset–
Frank Castle: Upset? Is that the word? I used to get upset when I had a flat tire. I used to get upset when a plane was delayed. I used to get upset when the Yankees won the Series. So if that's what "upset" means, then how do I feel now? If you know the word, tell me, because I don't.
Chief Morris: Castle, if you're not gonna cooperate, we're gonna have to...
Jimmy Weeks: Wait, wait. This man's been through hell. Who's he supposed to trust right now. Let's get him to a safe house.
Frank Castle: I don't want a safe house, Jimmy. I don't want Witness Protection. I don't want anything. All I wanna know is who gave me up. Don't be a stranger, Jim.

Accountant #1: You know whose money this is? You know whose building this is?
Frank Castle: Howard Saint's.
Accountant #2: He's gonna fuck your life up.
Frank Castle: He already fucked my life up.

Dave, (reading from computer screen): He speaks six languages–he did two tours in the 12th Special Ops, CTU.
Bumpo: What's "CTU"?
Dave: Counter-Terrorism Unit.

Howard Saint: How is he still alive? I don't know, Quentin, I wasn't there. Why is he still alive? Now that... that is an interesting question. Maybe he's meant to suffer more, I don't know. But how can we make him suffer if we can't find him?
Quentin Glass: He's daring us.
Howard Saint: No, no. He, he misses his family and he wants to die. He's asking for help-so let's help him.

Joan: I, uh, I've lived in seven cities in seven years, and in each one I've managed to find the one guy who'll treat me the worst. But I'm trying to fix that. You're Castle.
Frank Castle: Used to be.
Joan: We saw you on T.V.
Frank Castle: I don't have one.
Joan: I'm Joan. Dave's the one with all the, uh, the metal? And Bumpo's the one that…well, you can probably figure out which one Bumpo is. We're really sorry.
Frank Castle: About what?
Joan: About your family.
Frank Castle: Did you know them?
Joan: No.
Frank Castle: I'm over it.
(Through the door, Joan sees a whiskey bottle on the table in Castle's otherwise bare apartment.)
Joan: Don't let your memories kill you.
Frank Castle: They won't kill me.

Frank Castle: Do I know you?
Harry Heck: I know you. You're that boy in the newspaper - came back from the dead.
Frank Castle: I didn't catch your name.
(Harry Heck holds up a guitar case with his name engraved on it.)
Harry Heck: You like that song? I wrote that for you. I'm gonna sing it at your funeral.

(Castle has joined his neighbors for dinner in Joan's apartment.)
Joan: I know it's not Thanksgiving, but, um, I'd like us all to say what we're thankful for. I'll start. Um…I'm thankful to be alive this year. And to have a job, and to be sober.
Dave: Yeah - I'm thankful for my mom…getting out of jail. You now, it's, it's cool. And this girl gave me her number…which is also cool.
Bumpo: Thanks for leftovers-I'm full. Thanks for Diet Pepsi. And thanks for good neighbors.
(There is a long, awkward silence while everyone stares at Castle.)
Frank Castle: Thanks for dinner.
. . .
Joan: I know what it's like. I know what it's like to try and make your memories go away. You can make new memories. Good ones. Good memories can save your life.
Frank Castle: I'm not what you're looking for.

Quentin Glass: Where's Castle? (Dave and Bumpo stare at the floor.) Frank Castle. Who lives here. (to Bumpo) I asked you a question, fat man.
Dave: Leave him alone.
Quentin Glass: Then I'll ask you. Where's Castle?
Dave: He's not here.
Quentin Glass: Really? Are you sure?
Dave: (mumbles unintelligibly.)
Quentin Glass: What did you say? Hmm? I'm having a difficult time hearing you.
Dave: I said, "I'm not saying shit".
Quentin Glass: I don't want you to say "shit", I want you to answer me. You don't want to say anything about anything you might know? (He gets a set of pliers from tool cabinet and sits facing Dave.) Well, maybe we should get to know each other better. What's your name?
Dave: Dave.
Quentin Glass: You go to school around here? (Dave shakes his head.) You don't go to school?
Dave: No. No, I dropped out.
Quentin Glass: You dropped out? You're not doing drugs, are you?
Dave: Not right now...
Quentin Glass: And what are you doing with all this stuff? What is that?
Dave: Piercings.
Quentin Glass: Piercings. Did it hurt when you did that?
Dave: Not really.
Quentin Glass: You like that, when it hurt a little bit?
Dave: No.
Quentin Glass, (pointing to eyebrow ring): That's a special one there, isn't it? Is that your favorite? That's hard to get.
Dave: Yeah.
Quentin Glass, (fiddling with pliers): Answer my question, please.
Dave: No.
Quentin Glass: Come here. (He reaches for Dave's eyebrow ring with pliers.)
Dave: No... NO! (Quentin pins Dave's head and grabs the ring.)
Quentin Glass: (to Bumpo) Your friend's about to have a bad day. You can save him by talking. It doesn't have to be this way. (to Dave) You think you know about pain, boy? What do you know about pain? Huh? (He rips out eyebrow ring; Dave screams.) That's okay, that's okay. Dave? Li'l Dave? Are you gonna tell me?

(Joan and Frank Castle ride elevator to ground floor, where Bumpo tends to the mangled Dave.)
Bumpo: Look what they did to him…
Dave: They tried to make me talk. I gave 'em nothing.
Frank Castle: You don't know me. You don't owe me anything. I've brought you nothing but trouble. Why were you ready to die for me?
Dave: Because... you're one of us. You're family.

John Saint: Where have you been? Where's Quentin?
Howard Saint: Oh, well... he's wrapped up in something.
John Saint: I called home. No one was there.
Howard Saint: Your mother's gone.
John Saint: What?
Howard Saint: She took the train.

Joan: Say you kill them all; what then? What makes you any different from them?
Frank Castle: They have something to lose.

Salesman: Need help with some underpants, sir?
Quentin Glass: Go fuck yourself.

Frank Castle: I'm not a betting man, Jimmy.
Jimmy Weeks: I'll tell you who did it.
Frank Castle: You did it.
Jimmy Weeks: Saint did it!
Frank Castle: No, you did it. You called the other day 'cause you're sick, you need my help. That's what friends are for, right? Well here I am, I'm here to help.
Jimmy Weeks: What are you gonna do?
Frank Castle: I'm not gonna do anything.
(tosses him a bullet)
Frank Castle: You are.
Jimmy Weeks: Frank, I will...
Frank Castle: Let's say goodbye like the friends we were, huh? Not like animals.

Frank Castle: Howard Saint. HOWARD SAINT! (Saint stops, turns to face him.) You took everything from me.
Howard Saint: You killed my son!
(In the building behind Castle, John Saint's scream is followed by an explosion.)
Frank Castle: Both of them.

Frank Castle: You're right. Good memories can save your life. When Dave gets out of the hospital, check the cupboard. I left something. For all of you.
Joan: You're leaving?
Frank Castle: I have work to do. Read your newspaper every day. You'll understand.
Joan: Which section?
Frank Castle: Obituaries.


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