引用元：【訃報】 映画「ターミナル」のモデルだったイラン出身のナセリさんが死去 亡くなった場所は空港ターミナル
フランス・パリのシャルル・ド・ゴール空港の第1ターミナル内で1988年から2006年までの18年間を過ごし、トム・ハンクス主演の映画「ターミナル（2004年公開）」のモデルとなったイラン出身のマーハン・カリミ・ナセリさんが12日、
同空港の第2ターミナルで心臓発作を引き起こして死去。AP通信は1945年生まれとしているが、1942生まれともされており、年齢は77歳か80歳だったと見られている。
イラン南西部でイラン人の父と英国人の母の間に生まれたナセリさんは1974年に英国に留学したが、75年にイランに帰国した際に反政府運動を行ったとして投獄され、パスポートなしのまま国外追放となった。
このときベルギーやフランス、西ドイツ政府などに政治亡命の申請をしたが却下されて行き場を失った形。1980年に難民に認定されたあとベルギーで生活したが、英国移住を決意してベルギーを離れた。
しかし移動中だったフランスのパリで身分証明書が入ったバッグを盗まれ（その後、本人が国連高等難民弁務官事務所宛に身分証明書を自分で投函したと釈明）、英国に到着したものの入国できずにベルギーにUターン。
その後、英国で「フランスなら受け入れられるかも」と示唆されてパリに向かい、フランス政府は書類不備で入国は認めなかったが、裁判所が「国外追放はできない」としたために1988年からシャルル・ド・ゴール空港のターミナル内が生活の拠点となった。
1999年にフランス政府は入国を許可したが、ナセリ氏は書類への署名を拒否。何度か空港の外には出ているが、
体調を崩して2006年に入院するまで映画でハンクスが演じた「クラコウジア人のビクター・ナボルスキー」同様、空港のターミナル内で働きながらで18年間も生活していた。
AP通信によれば、その後パリ市内の施設に入所したが精神的には不安定だったとされており、死亡する数週間前から同空港の第2ターミナルで生活していたと伝えられている。
https://www.sponichi.co.jp/society/news/2022/11/13/kiji/20221113s00042000329000c.html
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映画ではターミナルから出られて解放って話なんだろけど
結局この人はターミナルが一番の故郷だったんだな
wikiみたけど、別にモデルってほどでもなかった
設定を借りたぐらいで話は特に似ても似つかない
面白い
2回みた
ヤギの薬のくだりは好き
同じ題材で仏映画の「パリ空港の人々」の方が
個人的には好きだな
当時、前売り券を買ったら
搭乗券になってて洒落ててよかったw
スピルバーグはだいたい面白いよ
面白いよ たまに見返す
主人公がいろんな隙間をぬって頑張っ手空港内で出世したり恋人獲得したり
ほっこりするw
クソ面白い
大爆笑した
面白いかどうかは別に心が温かくなる
結末までやってこそよな
こういうノンフィクションからの映画は
1994 フォレスト・ガンプ
1995 アポロ13
1998 プライベート・ライアン
1999 グリーンマイル
2000 キャスト・アウェイ
2002 キャッチ・ミー・イフ・ユー・キャン
2004 ターミナル
2006 ダ・ヴィンチ・コード
この頃のトム・ハンクスは神がかってた
ビッグがない
やりなおし
出来が良いのは4作だけ
多いじゃねーか
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“Then show me, father. Show me what it means, TO BE A MAN?” He says with an excitement building in his voice. Garrett does not go hog-wild on his tool. He caresses and adores it like one would an idol.
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“I’m am nearly 6 foot 2 inches tall, dad. I weigh 210 lbs. I think, dad. At least I was the last time we were weighed at football practice.” The son says. “Much bigger than you, I should say.” “Dad! Dad!” His son says in a straining voice. “Release me?”
His father loosens his grip on the full balls of his son as he stands. He can see the spurts of hair that dot the chest of his son. And he can see the heaving and gentle rise and fall of his son’s chest, as he breathes, as his excitement builds. Daddy gave me a look implying his shoes are needed to be removed. “Can I take off your loafers, daddy ?” I asked so quietly. He looked at me and nodded. I took off both his loafers and put them away neatly in front of me. Daddy then raised his right leg and stepped on my forehead, pushing me down into his loafers. It is a mixed smell with sweat, testosterone, and leather. I couldn’t help but take a big whiff every time I breathed. “Hands-on the floor” he commanded. He moved his feet from my head to my hands. “Kiss them and make the stink goes away using only your fag tongue.” “Yes sir.”
The pre-cum leaks, like a babbling brook, from the boy’s erect and pulsing cock, depositing its tiny droplets of juice onto the arm-hairs of his proud father. His father squeezes the nuts of his son, tighter and tighter, releasing more of the youthful essence. “Yeah.” He answers his dad. “…and I was ‘going commando’ too.”
His father strokes his own cock in the shower, the dew from his cock mixes with the drops condensing on the glass. “FUCK! FUCK!” He says, as he loosens the tightened grip on his fleshy-red-tool, while it throbs with its life-giving blood coursing through its many vein-filled region.
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“Have you fucked, son? Have you fucked? Have you dumped that seed of yours in those balls into a moist hole?” His father asks as he leans forward on the commode-chair. His hand squeezing the bulge growing larger in his tan khakis. Garrett can see what his father is doing, unconsciously his hands moves to his cock. He strokes the length of his tool with his left hand while he teases the blistering red crown with the fingertips of his right hand. The lightning of his cool fingertips sends sparks through every nerve in his body.
He dries himself but his throbbing cock continues to pulse as it grows harder because of his youth. The sensation intensifies. The feeling is wonderful. He can hear his cock throbbing in his ears. “That your jockstrap on the floor next to you, son?” His dad asks.
His father kicks the shoes from his feet and slides his khaki pants off, while still holding, the resistant nut-sac of his virile son in his right hand. He is now as naked as his 17-year-old son. Garrett nods his head as he wraps the jock over his head, and takes a hearty breathe of the pouch placed over his nose.
“I look forward to the day when you are a fully grown man, my son.” His father says. “I am anxious to see the fruit of my loins reach his fully-adorned manhood. Adulthood.” His father steps into the shower, turning on the water. As he soaks and lathers himself up under the lukewarm stream of water, he fondles his cock and balls. His cock soon mimics that of his son.
“Maybe his dad is right.” He thinks to himself as he continues with his intense fondling of his fiery red cock. “Last I measured, I was nearly eight inches, dad. Maybe more. I may be even bigger, who knows.” He answers nonchalantly.
Garrett nods to his father. Garrett thinks to himself; he did not wear a jock home from practice. He was ‘going commando.” Is it his older brother’s jock? “Oh, well. “He mumbles to himself as he takes another whiff of the musky scented pouch of the jock.
I didn’t move and I didn’t want to move because the smell in there is so toxic. I can smell daddy’s unwashed ass in there. I was also so happy as daddy sat on the toilet to released his scent just for me to sniff. Just when The scent faded away I heard the daddy say, “Come here, boy.” I saw daddy sitting on my couch with nothing but a white brief on. The bulge was staring at me. I knew I was going to be having a wonderful night. The one shower after his workout and practice had been a good start. But the walk home had tired him. But the massaging jets of water caressing across his muscular frame takes the weariness from his bones from this stressful day.
Garrett can see what his father is doing, unconsciously his hands moves to his cock. He strokes the length of his tool with his left hand while he teases the blistering red crown with the fingertips of his right hand. The lightning of his cool fingertips sends sparks through every nerve in his body. His father steps into the shower, turning on the water. As he soaks and lathers himself up under the lukewarm stream of water, he fondles his cock and balls. His cock soon mimics that of his son.
His father’s words are what he hears when he erupts. His cum streaming like liquid threads from the pee-hole of his rigid cock. “Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad.
His father loosens his grip on the full balls of his son as he stands. He can see the spurts of hair that dot the chest of his son. And he can see the heaving and gentle rise and fall of his son’s chest, as he breathes, as his excitement builds. “Do it!” His dad orders.
“Then, what is this, father.” He says as he wrestles his cock in a fierce grip and squeezes it like he is fighting against a serpent unleashed from its coil. Garrett thinks to himself; he did not wear a jock home from practice. He was ‘going commando.” Is it his older brother’s jock? “Oh, well. “He mumbles to himself as he takes another whiff of the musky scented pouch of the jock.
His father loosens his grip on the full balls of his son as he stands. He can see the spurts of hair that dot the chest of his son. And he can see the heaving and gentle rise and fall of his son’s chest, as he breathes, as his excitement builds. That night, I did a whole spa routine to make sure my skin was soft and my ass was stretched and wet. I was wearing nothing but a jockstrap as I was told. Waiting by the door on fourth. My heartbeat was so fast as my mouth was dry. I heard the footstep approaching. I left the door unlocked as one of the instructions I was received from daddy. He stepped in with his size 10 Christian Loublitine loafer where my eyes were going up from there. When I made eye contact with daddy, daddy slapped me across the face and said, “Bad boy, Where the fuck are your sneakers as I told you to wear tonight.” I was trembling and said in a very low voice, “ sorry daddy I fooooorgot.”
“It was intense. Really intense. We ran so many drills. I am exhausted.” He explains. His bare ass melts to the lid of the toilet bowl. He sweats from the steam and the exertions from his continued pounding of the fierceness of his cock. He wiggles as his ass opens, squeaking on the plastic surface of the thrown lid, as he takes whiffs from the cum soaked pouch of the jock that covers his face.
“You guys jerk off together, these days?” His dad asks, “Back when I was in high school me and several of my friends would jerk-off in our trucks in the parking lot. We were so horny we could barely sit in our seats. You ever do that Garrett?” “You are grown. Yes. Physically. Yes, my son. But a full man. No! No!” His father, says, sharply. “You have much more to grow, to mature, before you are a man, before you can call yourself. A man.”
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“Yeah. Yessir. Dad.” Garrett mutters. “Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad.
“Was it because of that?” His dad asks as he points a finger towards him. And his midsection. “FUCK! FUCK!” He says, as he loosens the tightened grip on his fleshy-red-tool, while it throbs with its life-giving blood coursing through its many vein-filled region.
After I serve daddy’s left one, I was about to move to the right foot. While He stopped me, stood up, and walked towards the couch, he said “Crawling right after me.” I followed daddy. My nose was where daddy’s ass was. I was staring at that crotch while I was crawling, and I didn’t realize daddy stopped one of a sudden in front of the bathroom. My nose is slightly right into that dreaming ass crack. “You are grown. Yes. Physically. Yes, my son. But a full man. No! No!” His father, says, sharply. “You have much more to grow, to mature, before you are a man, before you can call yourself. A man.”
Garrett can see what his father is doing, unconsciously his hands moves to his cock. He strokes the length of his tool with his left hand while he teases the blistering red crown with the fingertips of his right hand. The lightning of his cool fingertips sends sparks through every nerve in his body. “Have you fucked, son? Have you fucked? Have you dumped that seed of yours in those balls into a moist hole?” His father asks as he leans forward on the commode-chair. His hand squeezing the bulge growing larger in his tan khakis.
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“That is your cock, son.” His father, says. “…but it does not make you a man. It only makes you a boy with a hard cock in his hand.” “Then, what is this, father.” He says as he wrestles his cock in a fierce grip and squeezes it like he is fighting against a serpent unleashed from its coil.
“What…huh…what, dad?” He asks, puzzled by the question from his dad. As his cock is mere inches from his dad’s face. “It was intense. Really intense. We ran so many drills. I am exhausted.” He explains.
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“You lettin’ the beard grow on your face, I see, son?” His father asks him, as his head bumps up under the chin of his towering son. “What happened at today’s practice today that was so different from any other day, son?” His dad asks.
“See this; see this. “His father says. “This is where power comes from.” “Yes! Yes! I know you understand.” His father proudly exclaims.
“I knew ya couldn’t keep your hands off it.” His dad says. “Men can’t do it, we are drawn to our cocks, like a moth to a flame, and usually that burning sensation that a man feels is the cum boiling up in our balls. You know that feelin’ doncha son?” “Have you fucked, son? Have you fucked? Have you dumped that seed of yours in those balls into a moist hole?” His father asks as he leans forward on the commode-chair. His hand squeezing the bulge growing larger in his tan khakis.
“I’m am nearly 6 foot 2 inches tall, dad. I weigh 210 lbs. I think, dad. At least I was the last time we were weighed at football practice.” The son says. “Much bigger than you, I should say.” “I thought you usually showered after practice. In the locker room.” His dad asks as he walks into the open door of the bathroom.
He does not answer but tilts his head down in an almost subservient nature to his father. I used my teeth to strip off daddy’s black sheer socks. I placed them in my mouth and washed them with my saliva. I swallowed every single sweat and stink from these socks. It takes so well. I rolled them into a ball and stuck them into my jockstrap where my small dick and balls were.