我,机器人 I, Robot (2004)【完整台词】
我,机器人 I, Robot (2004) 全部台词 (当前第1页,一共 7 页)
Thing of beauty.
Good morning, sir.
Yet another
on-time delivery from...
Get the hell
out of my face, canner.
Have a nice day.
And we believe our "Destination
Anywhere" package to be the best value.
Let us take you to your dream destination
aboard our orbital space-plane...
Glowfish. The world's
hot-selling transgenic treat.
Excuse me, sir.
Total readiness. Total security.
So good-bye to lengthy upgrades
and service calls.
An uplink to U.S.R.'s central computer
provides this state-of-the-art robot...
with new programs daily.
The Nestor Class 5
is tomorrow's robot today.
Spoon! Spoonie!
Hey!
Uh... Hold on. Hold on. Hold on.
Excuse me. Excuse me.
- Hey, man!
- Spoon, man, where you been at?
- Just away, Farber.
- Oh, yeah, away?
Like vacation and stuff?
That's real nice, man.
Listen. I got a favor to ask. I need
to borrow the car for 10, 15 minutes.
No, this is different, Spoon.
Listen. I got this fine-ass little yummy.
I mean, she is complete and agreeable.
I mean, ass-hot spankable, Spoon.
- What does that even mean?
- You know what it means, man.
- Okay? Now stop barricading. Let me get the damn-ass keys.
- First of all...
stop cussing, 'cause
you're not good at it.
Let me get 10 for the bus then,
man. I've been there for you.
- Go home.
- Okay, that's strike one, Spoon. That's strike one.
You talk to Marci?
No, Gigi, I haven't
talked to Marci.
When I was coming up,
we didn't just marry someone...
then divorce them
then not talk to them.
Del, don't play with me.
I'll bet if I stopped
cooking, you'd call Marci.
Boy, what is that on your feet?
Mm. Converse All-Stars,
vintage 2004.
Don't turn your
face up like that.
I know you want some.
All you gotta do is ask.
No, thank you very much.
- Sweet potato pie.
- Put that on a plate.
You know, I've seen on TV, they're giving
away some of them new robots in the lottery.
You know, Gigi...
those robots don't do
anybody any good.
Of all the people on God's
earth, you should know better.
Sometimes the stuff that
comes out of your mouth.
You listening to me, Del?
Hey! Hey!
Hold my pie.
Sir, hold it or wear it.
Hey! Move!
Hey, hey, thief!
Stop!
I said stop.
Relax. Relax.
- I'm a police officer.
- You...
are an asshole.
Ma'am, is that your purse?
Of course it's my purse.
I left my inhaler at home.
He was running it out to me.
I saw a robot running with a
purse, and naturally I-I assumed...
What? Are you crazy?
I'm sorry for this
misunderstanding, Officer.
Don't apologize. You're doing
what you're supposed to be doing.
But what are you doing?
Have a lovely day, ma'am.
You lucky I can't breathe, or I'd
walk all up and down your ass.
Lead by example.
It says that
right on your badge.
- So, we gonna talk about this?
- About what?
Help, police. That robot
stole my dry cleaning.
Oh, you wanna talk about that.
Detective, how many robots
have ever snatched a purse?
- John, the thing is running down the...
- Uh-uh. Mm-mm.
How many robots
in the world...
have ever committed a crime?
- Well, define "crime."
- Answer my question, damn it.
None, John.
Now tell me what
happened today.
Nothing.
Better be the last nothing.
Spoon, are you sure you are ready to be
back? 'Cause you can take your time.
I'm fine, John.
Thank you.
Better here than
sitting around at home.
Homicide. Spooner.
Please take the next
exit to your right.
Welcome, Detective Spooner.
Welcome to U.S. Robotics.
You have entered
the garage level lobby.
Please use the elevators for direct
access to the main level concourse.
Thank you.
Good to see you again, son.
Hello, Doctor.
Everything that follows is a
result of what you see here.
Is there something
you wanna tell me?
I'm sorry.
My responses are limited.
You must ask
the right questions.
Why did you call me?
I trust your judgment.
Normally, these circumstances
wouldn't require a homicide detective.
But then our interactions have never
been entirely normal. Wouldn't you agree?
Got that right.
Is there something
you wanna say to me?
I'm sorry.
My responses are limited.
You must ask
the right questions.
Why would you kill yourself?
That, Detective,
is the right question.
Program terminated.
Good-bye, old man.
- Afternoon, boys.
- Hey, Detective.
- Enlighten me.
- What you see, is what you get. Massive impact trauma.
U.S. Robotics.
I gotta get my kid something.
- Anything upstairs?
- Nada.
Door was security-locked
from the inside.
Wham. Splat.
The guy's a jumper, for sure.
Okay, guys, we gotta be smart
about this. Let's deal with it later.
Detective.
- Lawrence Robertson.
- Wow.
Richest man in the world.
I've seen you on television.
Can I offer you coffee?
Uh, sure. Why not?
It's free, right?
I don't think anyone
saw this coming.
You know, I-I should have, I
suppose. I knew him 20 years.
Alfred practically
invented robotics.
He wrote the Three Laws.
But I guess brilliant people often
have the most persuasive demons.
- So, whatever I can do to help, just...
- Sugar.
- I'm sorry?
- For the coffee. Sugar?
- Ah.
- Oh, you thought I was calling you "sugar."
- You're not that rich.
- It's on the table.
Thank you.
Uh, when Lanning fell, he was
holding the, uh... the little green...
- The holographic projector.
- Right, right.
Why do you think Lanning's
hologram would have called me?
I assumed you knew him.
Yeah, I knew him.
Well, holograms
are very simple programs.
They're just pre-recorded responses, designed
to give the impression of intelligence.
And apparently this one was
programmed to call you upon his suicide.
- Death.
- I'm sorry?
The hologram. It was programmed
to call me in the event of Lanning's death.
Yeah. Suicide is a type
of death, Detective.
Look. Please don't
misunderstand my impatience.
No, no. Go, go, go.
A really big week
for you folks around here.
- Yeah.
- Gotta put a robot in every home.
- Mm.
- Look. This is-This is not what I do...
but I got an idea for
one of your commercials.
You could see a carpenter
making a beautiful chair.
Then one of your robots comes in
and makes a better chair, twice as fast.
- Mm-hmm.
- And then you superimpose on the screen...
USR..Shittin' on the little guy.
- Ah.
- That would be the fade-out.
Yes. I suppose your father
lost his job to a robot.
Maybe you would have simply banned
the Internet to keep the libraries open.
Prejudice never
shows much reason.
No, you know, I suspect...
you simply don't like their kind.
Yeah, you got a business
to run around here.
And the last thing you need, especially
this week, is a dead guy in your lobby.
But hell, seeing as how you
got one, maybe I'll look around.
Ask a few questions. Do the
whole cop thing, you know?
I'll send someone to escort you.
Thank you very much.
Lawrence told me to accommodate
you in any way possible.
Really?
Okay.
I reviewed Dr. Lanning's
psych profile.
Alfred had become a recluse. He
rejected human contact for machines.
So, you're a shrink, huh?
My ex-wife would sure be
glad I'm talking to you.
- You don't know her, do you?
- I'm sorry. Are you being funny?
I guess not.
Level 10.
So, would you say that
Dr. Lanning was suicidal?
It would seem the answer
to that question is apparent.
That's not what I asked you.
No. I wouldn't
have thought so.
But obviously I was wrong.
Good morning, sir.
Yet another
on-time delivery from...
Get the hell
out of my face, canner.
Have a nice day.
And we believe our "Destination
Anywhere" package to be the best value.
Let us take you to your dream destination
aboard our orbital space-plane...
Glowfish. The world's
hot-selling transgenic treat.
Excuse me, sir.
Total readiness. Total security.
So good-bye to lengthy upgrades
and service calls.
An uplink to U.S.R.'s central computer
provides this state-of-the-art robot...
with new programs daily.
The Nestor Class 5
is tomorrow's robot today.
Spoon! Spoonie!
Hey!
Uh... Hold on. Hold on. Hold on.
Excuse me. Excuse me.
- Hey, man!
- Spoon, man, where you been at?
- Just away, Farber.
- Oh, yeah, away?
Like vacation and stuff?
That's real nice, man.
Listen. I got a favor to ask. I need
to borrow the car for 10, 15 minutes.
No, this is different, Spoon.
Listen. I got this fine-ass little yummy.
I mean, she is complete and agreeable.
I mean, ass-hot spankable, Spoon.
- What does that even mean?
- You know what it means, man.
- Okay? Now stop barricading. Let me get the damn-ass keys.
- First of all...
stop cussing, 'cause
you're not good at it.
Let me get 10 for the bus then,
man. I've been there for you.
- Go home.
- Okay, that's strike one, Spoon. That's strike one.
You talk to Marci?
No, Gigi, I haven't
talked to Marci.
When I was coming up,
we didn't just marry someone...
then divorce them
then not talk to them.
Del, don't play with me.
I'll bet if I stopped
cooking, you'd call Marci.
Boy, what is that on your feet?
Mm. Converse All-Stars,
vintage 2004.
Don't turn your
face up like that.
I know you want some.
All you gotta do is ask.
No, thank you very much.
- Sweet potato pie.
- Put that on a plate.
You know, I've seen on TV, they're giving
away some of them new robots in the lottery.
You know, Gigi...
those robots don't do
anybody any good.
Of all the people on God's
earth, you should know better.
Sometimes the stuff that
comes out of your mouth.
You listening to me, Del?
Hey! Hey!
Hold my pie.
Sir, hold it or wear it.
Hey! Move!
Hey, hey, thief!
Stop!
I said stop.
Relax. Relax.
- I'm a police officer.
- You...
are an asshole.
Ma'am, is that your purse?
Of course it's my purse.
I left my inhaler at home.
He was running it out to me.
I saw a robot running with a
purse, and naturally I-I assumed...
What? Are you crazy?
I'm sorry for this
misunderstanding, Officer.
Don't apologize. You're doing
what you're supposed to be doing.
But what are you doing?
Have a lovely day, ma'am.
You lucky I can't breathe, or I'd
walk all up and down your ass.
Lead by example.
It says that
right on your badge.
- So, we gonna talk about this?
- About what?
Help, police. That robot
stole my dry cleaning.
Oh, you wanna talk about that.
Detective, how many robots
have ever snatched a purse?
- John, the thing is running down the...
- Uh-uh. Mm-mm.
How many robots
in the world...
have ever committed a crime?
- Well, define "crime."
- Answer my question, damn it.
None, John.
Now tell me what
happened today.
Nothing.
Better be the last nothing.
Spoon, are you sure you are ready to be
back? 'Cause you can take your time.
I'm fine, John.
Thank you.
Better here than
sitting around at home.
Homicide. Spooner.
Please take the next
exit to your right.
Welcome, Detective Spooner.
Welcome to U.S. Robotics.
You have entered
the garage level lobby.
Please use the elevators for direct
access to the main level concourse.
Thank you.
Good to see you again, son.
Hello, Doctor.
Everything that follows is a
result of what you see here.
Is there something
you wanna tell me?
I'm sorry.
My responses are limited.
You must ask
the right questions.
Why did you call me?
I trust your judgment.
Normally, these circumstances
wouldn't require a homicide detective.
But then our interactions have never
been entirely normal. Wouldn't you agree?
Got that right.
Is there something
you wanna say to me?
I'm sorry.
My responses are limited.
You must ask
the right questions.
Why would you kill yourself?
That, Detective,
is the right question.
Program terminated.
Good-bye, old man.
- Afternoon, boys.
- Hey, Detective.
- Enlighten me.
- What you see, is what you get. Massive impact trauma.
U.S. Robotics.
I gotta get my kid something.
- Anything upstairs?
- Nada.
Door was security-locked
from the inside.
Wham. Splat.
The guy's a jumper, for sure.
Okay, guys, we gotta be smart
about this. Let's deal with it later.
Detective.
- Lawrence Robertson.
- Wow.
Richest man in the world.
I've seen you on television.
Can I offer you coffee?
Uh, sure. Why not?
It's free, right?
I don't think anyone
saw this coming.
You know, I-I should have, I
suppose. I knew him 20 years.
Alfred practically
invented robotics.
He wrote the Three Laws.
But I guess brilliant people often
have the most persuasive demons.
- So, whatever I can do to help, just...
- Sugar.
- I'm sorry?
- For the coffee. Sugar?
- Ah.
- Oh, you thought I was calling you "sugar."
- You're not that rich.
- It's on the table.
Thank you.
Uh, when Lanning fell, he was
holding the, uh... the little green...
- The holographic projector.
- Right, right.
Why do you think Lanning's
hologram would have called me?
I assumed you knew him.
Yeah, I knew him.
Well, holograms
are very simple programs.
They're just pre-recorded responses, designed
to give the impression of intelligence.
And apparently this one was
programmed to call you upon his suicide.
- Death.
- I'm sorry?
The hologram. It was programmed
to call me in the event of Lanning's death.
Yeah. Suicide is a type
of death, Detective.
Look. Please don't
misunderstand my impatience.
No, no. Go, go, go.
A really big week
for you folks around here.
- Yeah.
- Gotta put a robot in every home.
- Mm.
- Look. This is-This is not what I do...
but I got an idea for
one of your commercials.
You could see a carpenter
making a beautiful chair.
Then one of your robots comes in
and makes a better chair, twice as fast.
- Mm-hmm.
- And then you superimpose on the screen...
USR..Shittin' on the little guy.
- Ah.
- That would be the fade-out.
Yes. I suppose your father
lost his job to a robot.
Maybe you would have simply banned
the Internet to keep the libraries open.
Prejudice never
shows much reason.
No, you know, I suspect...
you simply don't like their kind.
Yeah, you got a business
to run around here.
And the last thing you need, especially
this week, is a dead guy in your lobby.
But hell, seeing as how you
got one, maybe I'll look around.
Ask a few questions. Do the
whole cop thing, you know?
I'll send someone to escort you.
Thank you very much.
Lawrence told me to accommodate
you in any way possible.
Really?
Okay.
I reviewed Dr. Lanning's
psych profile.
Alfred had become a recluse. He
rejected human contact for machines.
So, you're a shrink, huh?
My ex-wife would sure be
glad I'm talking to you.
- You don't know her, do you?
- I'm sorry. Are you being funny?
I guess not.
Level 10.
So, would you say that
Dr. Lanning was suicidal?
It would seem the answer
to that question is apparent.
That's not what I asked you.
No. I wouldn't
have thought so.
But obviously I was wrong.
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