At first I had no interest in an Angel Of Democracy monologue, but after coming across a large section of street covered in broken glass, and after ruining my shoe by stepping in an oil-slicked section of gas station pavement, and after having an errant page of newspaper land on my shoulder, propelled there by bus-wind, I bowed to the inevitable.
In the meantime, Jorge showed me a bit of business he’d written, intended for himself. He’d wanted to read a speech in the part of the movie where he gets tracked down by Federal Agents and thrown into a cell for years, being held with no charges brought against him, and then, when he’s at the airport about to be transported to Syria, he breaks away and reads the following to a group of stewardesses and airplane pilots picketing for better working conditions.
I decided to appropriate his speech and give it to the Angel Of Democracy.
the Angel of Democracy
Greg's directorial debut