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Shelley Fisher: Jason, I'm not a doctor yet, but it's my considered opinion you seek psychiatric help. Soon!
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[Shelley looks at the male corpse she is about to dissect] Shelley Fisher: Strong silent type, how refreshing!
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Kate Davies: He's no angel, but he's not a killer.
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[Dorothy reads her Valentine] Dorothy Wheeler: Roses are red, Violets are Blue, They'll need dental records to identify you.
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Paige Prescott: Detective Vaughn, please remove your hand from my thigh. Det. Leon Vaughn: Okay, where would you like me to put it? Paige Prescott: How about up your ass?
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Adam Carr: All I can think is when someone is that lonely or that angry they can learn to hide it. But inside, it never dies. It just stays there. Eats away at you. Until one day, you have to do something about it.
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Dorothy Wheeler: When you are old enough to rent a car, we can talk about your role as my stepmother.
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[Shelley reads her Valentine] Shelley Fisher: The journey of love is an arduous trek, My love grows for you as you bleed from your neck.
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[to Lily Voight] Max Raimi: What's the problem? Lily Voight: The problem is that you turned out to be a cheap, hypocritical sleazeball! Max Raimi: Yeah, but you knew that. So... does this mean you're not gonna be my Valentine?
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Jeremy Melton: Ummm, Paige, will you dance with me? Young Paige Prescott: I'd rather be boiled alive.
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Paige Prescott: [sarcastically, to Brian] You brought me upstairs to show me your penis? How sweet!
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Dorothy Wheeler: Oh, get your hands off me, you mail order bride from HELL!
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[Kate finds Adam drinking] Kate Davies: Which one of the twelve steps this? Adam Carr: Kate! There you are. You know, I have been looking all over for you. Kate Davies: And I wasn't at the bottom of the bottle?
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Adam Carr: Nice party, Dorothy. Dorothy Wheeler: It blows! Adam Carr: [to Kate Davies] Is everything okay? Dorothy Wheeler: [obviously angry] Oh, yes! Everything's fine, it's just that men SUCK! But, that's no offense to you, Adam. Adam Carr: None taken.
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Kate Davies: I haven't really completely broken up with Adam yet. Paige Prescott: But you will. Believe me, relationships don't make U-turns and Adam's a drunk. Kate Davies: He's not a drunk. He's a borderline addictive personality who happens to like alcohol a lot.
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Dorothy Wheeler: Come on Kate! You've always been the popular one, and Shelley was always the brainy one, and Lily was the fun one, and Paige was the sexy one, and I was the big, fat one! And as far as you're concerned, that's exactly the way that it is. Well, you know what? Screw all of you!
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Paige Prescott: Does somebody wanna be my Valentine?
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Dorothy Wheeler: Excuse me, who are you? Ruthie: That's none of your business. Campbell Morris: Don't worry, she's nobody. Ruthie: Yeah, I'm nobody. I'm just the idiot who's still waiting for a return on my Internet investment. [to Campbell Morris] Ruthie: What did you call it? Bleed-Me-Dry.com?
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Ruthie: Watch your back... leech!
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Gary Taylor: You look great, Kate. How about a date, Kate? You could be my mate, Kate. Kate Davies: You're scary, Gary. Gary Taylor: This could be our fate, Kate.
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Adam Carr: I'm sorry that I couldn't make it to the art show. Kate Davies: Don't worry, you didn't miss much. Just Dorothy's boyfriend getting attacked by some crazy woman and some really bad art. I mean, the stuff was basically porn! Adam Carr: [smiling] It sounds okay.
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Amazon.com
Five comely and well-to-do female friends receive dire threats inside anonymous valentines. When two of them meet violent ends, the remaining trio suspect that the killer may be a nebbishy former classmate whom they spurned years before at a school dance. Their solution: Throw a lavish Valentine's Day party, all the better to distract them from the hulking, cherub-masked killer... As the above suggests, Valentine is the absolute nadir of the post-Scream slasher film. Australian director Jamie Blanks (whose previous effort was the equally dismal Urban Legend, 1998) obviously had lofty goals for his film, given his bald-faced homages to John Carpenter and Dario Argento. But he hasn't a clue as to how to generate suspense, and his frequent reliance on well-worn shock effects (hands dropping on shoulders, etc.) suggests more contempt for the genre than affection. No less than four writers (including two writer-producers for Roswell, which explains the appearance of series star Katherine Heigl) contributed to the screenplay, which fails to generate the twentysomething drama and hip, cutting dialogue required for this brand of horror. As the five friends, actresses Marley Shelton, Denise Richards, Jessica Capshaw, Jessica Caufield, and Heigl have little to do other than alternately look attractive or afraid; Richards, in particular, looks weary of playing the man-eater. As Shelton's dipsomaniac boyfriend, David Boreanaz (Angel) lumbers through each scene with an embarrassed scowl. Warner Bros.' DVD includes commentary by Blanks, as well as cast and crew interviews and a video for Orgy's contribution to the noisy, new-metal soundtrack. --Paul Gaita
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