Good Will Hunting Essay

Chuckie: Why didn't you give me none of that nasty little hoochie-woochie you usually throw at me? Like I'd waste my energy spreading my legs for that Tootsie Roll dick? Chuckie: Look, you're my best friend, so don't take this the wrong way.

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Van Sant pulls off the equivalent of what George Cukor accomplished for women's melodrama in the '30s and '40s: He's crafted an intelligent, unabashedly emotional male weepie about men trying to find inner-wisdom. Skylar: My father died when I was thirteen and I inherited this money.

Matt Damon stars as Will Hunting, a closet math genius who ignores his gift in favor of nightly boozing and fighting with South Boston buddies (co-writer Ben Affleck among them). Did you ever think that everyday I wake up, that I wish I could give it back, that I would give it back in a second, if it meant I could have one more day with him?

That's why I'm not talkin' right now about some girl I saw at a bar twenty years ago and how I always regretted not going over and talking to her. And the guy who put the shrapnel in his ass got his old job, 'cause he'll work for fifteen cents a day and no bathroom breaks. Billy: Morgan, why don't you jerk off in your own f***ing house.

And he comes home to find that the plant he used to work at got exported to the country he just got back from.

While working as a university janitor, he solves an impossible calculus problem scribbled on a hallway blackboard and reluctantly becomes the prodigy of an arrogant MIT professor (Stellan Skarsgård).

Damon only avoids prison by agreeing to see psychiatrists, all of whom he mocks or psychologically destroys until he meets his match in the professor's former childhood friend, played by Williams. Sean: I just slid my ticket across the table and I said, "Sorry guys, I gotta see about a girl."Will: I gotta go see about a girl? And meanwhile he's starvin' 'cause every time he tries to get a bite to eat the only blue plate special they're servin' is North Atlantic scrod with Quaker State. So my buddy's out of work and he can't afford to drive, so he's got to walk to the job interviews, which sucks 'cause the shrapnel in his ass is givin' him chronic hemorrhoids. Why not just shoot my buddy, take his job and give it to his sworn enemy, hike up gas prices, bomb a village, club a baby seal, hit the hash pipe and join the National Guard? I mean, I f***in' owe it to myself to do this or that. Hangin' around here is a f***in' waste of your time. He looked at a piano, and it just made sense to him. Skylar: But you can do my o-chem paper in under an hour. 'Cause I'd do f***in' anything to have what you got. It'd be an insult to watch if you're still here in 20 years. I couldn't paint you a picture, I probably can't hit the ball out of Fenway, and I can't play the piano. Will: Yeah, and he's f***in' bowlin' police out of the way! OH, he goes apeshit, and 35,000 fans, you know, they charge the field, you know? Steps up to the plate, you know, and he's got that weird stance. Thirty-five thousand people, on their feet, yellin' at the ball, but that's not because of Fisk. Both doctor and patient are haunted by the past, and as mutual respect develops, the healing process begins. The film's beauty lies not with grand climaxes, but with small, quiet moments. Sean: Someone you can relate to, someone who opens things up for you.


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