words in movies
Joey: oh, I didn't know you liked French fries. Help yourself! What's mine is yours. (Sarah reaches over and takes a few fries)
Joey: Bikini, French cut, thong! And-and the fabrics! Youve got cotton, silk, lace! And yknow what Ive always wondered about?
Joey: Sure, sure. Ok, (clears his throat and starts to read from his script. He starts talking in a fake French accent, making gestures with his hands) "Bleu de la bleu, de la blu bla bleu" (Phoebe looks astonished, annoyed and disgusted, Joey seems very proud though) See?
RICHARD: Well, uh, sometimes I think about selling my practice, we could move to France, make French toast.
Joey: Who wants French toast?
Monica: It's supposed to be that small. It's a pre-appetizer. The French call it an amouz-bouche.
{Transcribers Note: Please correct my French here.}
Phoebe: (in a French accent) Uh, excuse me. Uh, I am Reginé Philange. I was passing by when I heard this man speaking the regional dialect of my French town of Estée Lauder.
Phoebe: Well, you're not, (she tries to smile and contain her anger, but loses it) You're not... you're not... again, you're not SPEAKING FRENCH!
Phoebe: Well, it felt French.
Rachel: Okay! I was thinking if its a girl, how about Sandrine? Its French.
Ross: Maybe Ill take her to that new French restaurant down the street
Tim: Actually shes my-my boss. Sous is French for under.
Joey: Dude, come on! French it u-up!
Phoebe: Oh, you Americans always butcher the French language.
Chandler: Umm, you know how we always said that it would be fun to move to Paris for a year? You know, you could study French cooking and I could write and we could take a picnic along the Seine and go wine tasting in Bordeaux?
[Scene: Central Perk. Phoebe's trying to teach Joey French, so she's sitting in front of him with the script in her hands.]
Ross: So, do you get colours or just French tips?
Rachel: I did not know you spoke French.
Joey: Yeah! And also, a little like a French guy. (They both squint at each other.) I never noticed that before.
Director: Joey, do you speak French?
[Scene: Joey's apartment. Phoebe is trying to teach Joey French.]
Director: You really think this man is speaking French?
Rachel: Oh my God! I was so afraid I wasn't gonna remember any of my high-school French, but I understood every word you just said!
Director: (to Joey) Good job, little buddy. That was some really good French. But I think we're gonna go with someone else for the part.
Joey: I have an audition for this play and for some of it I have to speak French. Which, according to my résumé, I'm fluent in.
[Scene: Joey's apartment. He is sitting on the barcalounger holding a French study book and listening to a French learning tape.]
Joey: Ah. All right. But my French was good?
Phoebe: I love you too. (they hug) Please don't... Don't turn into... you know... French bitch! (they hug again)
Monica: (in a French accent) Bonjour, monsieur.
Phoebe: Im sorry. Im sorry. I never got to be in a club. I-I didnt go to high school, but three of us would meet behind a dumpster to learn French. Bonjour.
Gate attendant #1: (with a French accent) Madame, your passport please?
Rachel: Well, hey! How about right above the TV? (Points to the spot where her famous French poster is hanging). That way, it will be the first thing that you see when you walk in the door!
[Scene: The Western front during World War I, Phoebe, in yet another past life, is once again a nurse tending to yet another dying soldier. But this time she's doing it with a French accent.]
Rachel: Oh yes! Thank you very much! (She grabs a glass, takes a sip, and realizes what she just did. She then tries to spit the champagne back into the glass without Monica noticing. It doesnt work.) Oh thats-thats actually how the French drink it.
Ross: This... this is exactly what I'm talking about. What kind of a guy makes... makes... delicate French cookies, huh? They're not even... butch, manly cookies with... with... you know with... with chunks. (takes a careful bite from the cookie)
Monica: Oh, and I can also speak a little French. Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir? (Mischa laughs) Why? What did I say?
Phoebe: (genuinely excited about it) Yeah, yeah! And you can get rid of that French poster.
French Phoebe: Gauze! Gauze! I need to get some gauze in here! Can I please get some gauze in here! (A shell explodes outside next to the tent and when the smoke clears, Phoebe still has her arm.) Whew! (Her arm falls off and starts pumping out blood.) This is getting ridiculous uh!