A Good Year Quotes
A British investment broker inherits his uncle's chateau and vineyard in Provence, where he spent much of his childhood. He discovers a new laid-back lifestyle as he tries to renovate the estate to be sold.
Fanny Chenal: [Fanny approaches a customer who is behind a raised newspaper] Bonjour. Vous avez choisi?
Max Skinner: [lowers newspaper] I think so.
Fanny Chenal: [recognizing him] You sure you don't need more time?
Max Skinner: No, I know what I want.
Fanny Chenal: You're sure?
Max Skinner: Absolutely.
Fanny Chenal: So, what is it to be?
Max Skinner: How's the soup?
Fanny Chenal: The soup is finished.
Max Skinner: Like my job... The fish?
Fanny Chenal: We've run out.
Max Skinner: That's like me with excuses.
Fanny Chenal: Don't waste my time. Choose something we have.
Max Skinner: I would like a lifetime spent with an irrational and suspicious goddess, some short-tempered jealousy on the side, and a bottle of wine that tastes like you, a glass that's never empty.
[they kiss]
Max Skinner: [lowers newspaper] I think so.
Fanny Chenal: [recognizing him] You sure you don't need more time?
Max Skinner: No, I know what I want.
Fanny Chenal: You're sure?
Max Skinner: Absolutely.
Fanny Chenal: So, what is it to be?
Max Skinner: How's the soup?
Fanny Chenal: The soup is finished.
Max Skinner: Like my job... The fish?
Fanny Chenal: We've run out.
Max Skinner: That's like me with excuses.
Fanny Chenal: Don't waste my time. Choose something we have.
Max Skinner: I would like a lifetime spent with an irrational and suspicious goddess, some short-tempered jealousy on the side, and a bottle of wine that tastes like you, a glass that's never empty.
[they kiss]
Uncle Henry Skinner: Max, have I told you why I enjoy making wine so much?
Young Max: You don't make the wine, Uncle Henry - that guy Duflot does.
Uncle Henry Skinner: [Reproachfully] In France it's always the landowner who makes the wine, even though he does nothing more than supervise with binoculars from the comfort of his study. No, I enjoy making wine, because this sublime nectar is quite simply incapable of lying. Picked too early, picked too late, it matters not - the wine will always whisper into your mouth with complete, unabashed honesty every time you take a sip.
Young Max: You don't make the wine, Uncle Henry - that guy Duflot does.
Uncle Henry Skinner: [Reproachfully] In France it's always the landowner who makes the wine, even though he does nothing more than supervise with binoculars from the comfort of his study. No, I enjoy making wine, because this sublime nectar is quite simply incapable of lying. Picked too early, picked too late, it matters not - the wine will always whisper into your mouth with complete, unabashed honesty every time you take a sip.
Uncle Henry Skinner: [Bringing out two bottles of wine] I thought, as it's your last night here, it only appropriate that we open something extra special.
Young Max: [Pointing to one of the bottles] Bandol.
Uncle Henry Skinner: Excellent choice. Tempier Bandol, 1969, the kind of wine that'll pickle even the toughest of men. I once saw a Castilian prizefighter collapse in a heap after drinking just a single glass. Perhaps my knee landing squarely in his testicles may have been partly to blame... What was I talking about before?
Young Max: You said the importance of a good blue suit can never be overstated.
Uncle Henry Skinner: Quite right. A blue suit is the most versatile of accoutrements. More important than the suit itself, is the man who fits it for you. Once you find a good tailor, you must never give his name away - not even under the threat of bodily harm.
Young Max: [Pointing to one of the bottles] Bandol.
Uncle Henry Skinner: Excellent choice. Tempier Bandol, 1969, the kind of wine that'll pickle even the toughest of men. I once saw a Castilian prizefighter collapse in a heap after drinking just a single glass. Perhaps my knee landing squarely in his testicles may have been partly to blame... What was I talking about before?
Young Max: You said the importance of a good blue suit can never be overstated.
Uncle Henry Skinner: Quite right. A blue suit is the most versatile of accoutrements. More important than the suit itself, is the man who fits it for you. Once you find a good tailor, you must never give his name away - not even under the threat of bodily harm.
Gemma: Max Skinner's phone?
Kimberly: Hi, it's Kimberly. Is Max there?
Gemma: Just one moment.
[to Max]
Gemma: It's Kimberly?
[Max does the "cut off" sign]
Gemma: Sorry Kimberly, Max isn't here right now.
Kimberly: Where is he?
Gemma: Max and his fiancée are at their wedding rehearsal today.
[Max gives Gemma the thumbs up]
Kimberly: Their what?
Gemma: Would you like to leave a message?
Kimberly: No I wouldn't!
Kimberly: Hi, it's Kimberly. Is Max there?
Gemma: Just one moment.
[to Max]
Gemma: It's Kimberly?
[Max does the "cut off" sign]
Gemma: Sorry Kimberly, Max isn't here right now.
Kimberly: Where is he?
Gemma: Max and his fiancée are at their wedding rehearsal today.
[Max gives Gemma the thumbs up]
Kimberly: Their what?
Gemma: Would you like to leave a message?
Kimberly: No I wouldn't!
Fanny Chenal: [Max has brought a bottle of the rare wine] Wow - "Le Coin Perdu"? I've never actually seen a bottle...
Max Skinner: Have you heard of it?
Fanny Chenal: It's expensive... Are you trying to seduce me, Max?
Max Skinner: Oh gosh, no, of course not. Thought would never even cross my mind. Not more than six, or ten times.
Max Skinner: Have you heard of it?
Fanny Chenal: It's expensive... Are you trying to seduce me, Max?
Max Skinner: Oh gosh, no, of course not. Thought would never even cross my mind. Not more than six, or ten times.
Francis Duflot: [Bringing out a special bottle of wine] C'est "Le Coin Perdu"... it's a local vin de garage.
Max Skinner: [confused] "Vin de garage"?
Christie Roberts: It's a "garage wine." Like a boutique wine. Small vineyards, small productions - *seriously* big prices.
Francis Duflot: [dismissively] It's overrated.
Christie Roberts: It didn't say that on the Web. Turns out "Le Coin Perdu" is a Provencal legend. It changes hands among collectors, but nobody knows who makes it.
Max Skinner: [confused] "Vin de garage"?
Christie Roberts: It's a "garage wine." Like a boutique wine. Small vineyards, small productions - *seriously* big prices.
Francis Duflot: [dismissively] It's overrated.
Christie Roberts: It didn't say that on the Web. Turns out "Le Coin Perdu" is a Provencal legend. It changes hands among collectors, but nobody knows who makes it.
Max Skinner: Look, I wasn't joking about what I said before about the wine they make here. It is not - I repeat, NOT - first class. Will that affect our price?
Charlie Willis: Well, how bad can it be?
Max Skinner: Uh, well, it gives you a blinding headache and it makes you angry... I can't imagine the damage a second sip might do.
Charlie Willis: Well, we'll just have to make sure our buyers don't know anything about wine. We'll concentrate on the Americans.
Charlie Willis: Well, how bad can it be?
Max Skinner: Uh, well, it gives you a blinding headache and it makes you angry... I can't imagine the damage a second sip might do.
Charlie Willis: Well, we'll just have to make sure our buyers don't know anything about wine. We'll concentrate on the Americans.
Max Skinner: Good morning, lab rats.
Assembled traders and staff: Good morning, Max.
Max Skinner: Today we're shifting gears. Today... is "greedy bastard" day.
[Assembled traders and staff let out a murmur of excitement]
Max Skinner: The secret to riches, lab rats, is the same as the secret to comedy: timing.
Assembled traders and staff: Good morning, Max.
Max Skinner: Today we're shifting gears. Today... is "greedy bastard" day.
[Assembled traders and staff let out a murmur of excitement]
Max Skinner: The secret to riches, lab rats, is the same as the secret to comedy: timing.
Uncle Henry Skinner: [Voiceover narration] Dear Max - I know it's been many years since we last spoke. But I find myself in a bit of a jam, and I'm afraid I need your help. The thing is, Max old boy, I'm dying. I know this because, uh, Dr. Karr, my physician, has stopped talking about my health and begun discussing the weather. Convinced that Death, like all tradesmen, would be unable to find my front door, and always having believed wills to be an open invitation to the Reaper, I find myself impelled to impress upon your kindness. I have a daughter. Her name is Christie Roberts. Sadly, we have never met. Her mother's name is Allison. She was a tour guide at a tiny vineyard in northern California. Max, I should like you to find her. And to this end, I would like to leave her what is rightfully hers. I hope this decision doesn't hurt your feelings, and as successful as you are, you don't need it. I hope you understand. Because even in its present state, La Siroque is a place of magic, and it is my heartfelt wish that Christie should share in that magic. I like to think of her here. After all, she and La Siroque are all I leave behind. Your loving uncle, Henry Skinner.
Charlie Willis: [Calling from London] Hello... You working out on the house?
Max Skinner: Charlie, yes. At it since daybreak.
Charlie Willis: Really... I hate to think of you, toiling down there all on your own.
Max Skinner: Well, we're English, Charlie, you know? Born to rule and sacrifice.
Charlie Willis: Yes...
Max Skinner: Charlie, yes. At it since daybreak.
Charlie Willis: Really... I hate to think of you, toiling down there all on your own.
Max Skinner: Well, we're English, Charlie, you know? Born to rule and sacrifice.
Charlie Willis: Yes...
Christie Roberts: Did you know that dad mixed a martini for Winston Churchill? He also danced a waltz with Amelia Earhart in 1975.
Max Skinner: Well, considering that Amelia Earhart died in the 1930's, that's a perfect example of the type of exaggerator Uncle Henry was. Want to know the real Uncle Henry? Not the one your overactive imagination is manufacturing? The *real* Henry Skinner was a man so afraid of committing to the real world, that he retreated from life to drink and shag his way to a lonely and loveless end.
Max Skinner: Well, considering that Amelia Earhart died in the 1930's, that's a perfect example of the type of exaggerator Uncle Henry was. Want to know the real Uncle Henry? Not the one your overactive imagination is manufacturing? The *real* Henry Skinner was a man so afraid of committing to the real world, that he retreated from life to drink and shag his way to a lonely and loveless end.
Gemma: [re: Kenny assuming Max's place as head of the trading department] He's even taking credit for your trade this week. He's telling everyone in the office that HE's the one who gave you the idea.
Max Skinner: [Unconcerned] Well, if he wasn't an ambitious and mercenary little bastard, I never would have given him the job in the first place.
Max Skinner: [Unconcerned] Well, if he wasn't an ambitious and mercenary little bastard, I never would have given him the job in the first place.
