In a dystopian future all singletons are arrested and transferred to the Hotel according to the rules of the Town, and there they have 45 days to find a matching mate, otherwise they are transformed into an animal of their choosing and released into the Woods. When one man escaped from the Hotel to the Woods where the Loners live, he falls in love and in doing so contravenes the rules.
The first pair of posters for Yorgos Lanthimos’ The Lobster, premiering at Cannes.
King Arthur: The Lady of the Lake, her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water, signifying by divine providence that I, Arthur, was to carry Excalibur. THAT is why I am your king. Dennis: [interrupting] Listen, strange women lyin’ in ponds distributin’ swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony. Well, but you can’t expect to wield supreme executive power just ‘cause some watery tart threw a sword at you! I mean, if I went 'round saying I was an emperor just because some moistened bint had lobbed a scimitar at me, they’d put me
So, my little Amélie, you don’t have bones of glass. You can take life’s knocks. If you let this chance pass, eventually, your heart will become as dry and brittle as my skeleton. So, go get him, for Pete’s sake!