Line Analysis: An important lesson from My Cousin Vinny
Never underestimate the unknown
I promised you lines.
(And I overpromised weekly posts. We’ll get there. Workin’ out the schedule, post cadence, and other kinks over here. Stick with me ;)
I also promised you frameworks.
(Among other fun / strategic / writerly tools and exercises. More is more. But it’s best to start with one; we’ll be rattling off jargon like “2x2” and “answered the brief” and “weighted criteria” to all of our annoyance soon enough.)
So I’m pleased to introduce Line Analysis, a recurring segment designed just for ITL readers.
The plot: In each installment of this segment, we’ll look at a line from literature, entertainment, business, or culture, break down its reason for being, and rate it using our exclusive, professionally crafted, reasonably objective, made-for-ITL Line Analysis Framework1 to see how well it performs.
Image unavailable? See the summary in the footnotes.2
Is this exhaustive in terms of evaluation criteria when it comes to lines of all kinds? No. Especially not when it comes to lines that need to play a specific role, like a positioning line or a tagline. We’ll dig into those kinds of lines and their unique criteria in later posts.
Can it be applied to most lines? Yes. It’s simple, relatively thorough, and universal at a high level. It’s a good comparative basis that cuts across lines from all kinds of categories.
Could it fall apart on certain kinds of lines? Maybe. We’ll try it on and find out.
Cool. Now that we’ve done the nerd part, let’s do the word part.
Today’s line is:
“I’m uh, wearing, uh, clothes.”
Joe Pesci as Vincent Gambini in My Cousin Vinny, 00:29:363
Expecting a different line to be up for analysis? It wouldn’t surprise me. There are so many absolute gems to choose from. The incredulous “I shot the clerk?” or Mona Lisa’s hilariously relatable “my biological clock is TICKING LIKE THIS” or one of my ultimate favorites, “Were these MAGIC grits?”
These are all GREAT lines, without a doubt. They each serve purpose—set up the plot, increase the stakes, elevate the tension before the climax. Generally speaking, they are the better known lines, more often quoted, more likely to become shorthand among people who love the movie. Don’t let that fool you. Maybe our chosen line isn’t the most famous; maybe it never won Most Likely to Be Found on an Etsy Pillow. But in terms of the Line Analysis Framework, the chosen line does more than meets the eye4.
Obviously: All lines are not created equal. Different lines have different value (both in relation to storytelling, and in terms of resources spent—read: time and money5). Some lines are designed to be scene stealers. Some are made to be more subtle—but do far more work when it comes to grounding the story in its true purpose.
I call these “workhorse lines.”
It’s not an official designation; no one in my industry uses the term (that I’m aware of). But they exist everywhere—in songs, buried in scripts, in many places (though harder to place) in books, and in brand guidelines. The workhorse is a line that pulls more than its weight in setting up the rest of the story.
Other examples of workhorse lines:
“I’m here from downtown. I’m here from Mitch & Murray.”
Alec Baldwin has said that while broader audiences quote “Put that coffee down” and “Coffee is for closers” from the famous Glengarry Glen Ross “Always Be Closing” scene, fans from the sales community quote this line. It’s one of the only lines in that scene that isn’t a direct insult, but it’s the line that gives the insults teeth.
Or from the brand world,
“I’m a Mac.”
“And I’m a PC.”
The famous Apple campaign set two personal computer giants in stark contrast with a deceptively simple introduction. The personification approach6, and the personas used, had an immediate payoff on Apple’s positioning: “powering people through technology” or, as is sometimes said, man over machine—the human user comes first.
Even descriptors can operate as the workhorse lines of the naming world, particularly when they disrupt by defining new categories or new territories within existing categories. “Smartphones,” “streaming services,” the “gig economy”—all of these workhorse terms effectively set up a foundational reference or meaning for what comes next: The iPhones, Netflixes, and Ubers of the world, disrupting the scene by changing customer experiences and expectations.
What makes “I’m uh, wearing, uh, clothes” a workhorse line?
Consider the scene: It’s the first time in the movie all of the major characters are together, in the courthouse, where most of the pivotal action takes place. We know the alleged crime (someone shot the clerk), we know the circumstances (it’s all a misunderstanding over canned tuna), we know the lawyer in question is “in the family” and available (i.e. cheap and fast, so, probably not good), and we know this is more than the usual bit of hubbub in small town Alabama. A very efficient story setup.
What we DON’T know is how all of these elements will play together, or why. What’s the point?
Our chosen line opens the floodgates of tension central to the plot: The conflict that arises when we take on the unknown with overconfidence.
“‘Oh suuuure. No problem! I could win the case.’ I already got myself sent to jail twice.” 00:47:03
Gambini’s “I’m uh, wearing, uh, clothes,” kicks off a cascade of obstacles. A dressing down because he “doesn’t look lawyerly.” A night in jail for contempt. A fiancé questioning his abilities. A judge determined to dig up dirt on his record, because he can’t possibly be a real lawyer. An opposing counsel banking on his apparent lack of trial experience. Doubt and disdain from his clients. Mud, everywhere.
“Not to mention your biological clock, my career, your life, our marriage, and let me see, what else can we pile on? Is there any more SHIT we can pile on to the top of the outcome of this case??” 01:06:15
By swaggering into the unknown unprepared and overconfident, he brings himself under attack.
The genius of the script is that everyone is overconfident and feels that they are under attack. The judge vs. a “dismissive New York City hotshot.” The sheriff vs. two yutes who start out entirely too sure of themselves. Minor characters defined by their bluff and bluster: The barfly who can’t settle his pool debt; the hotel manager who misrepresents the frequency of the early morning train schedule; the witnesses who can’t see or who claim to cook faster than physics allow or who are downright hostile even under expert scrutiny.
It's the constant conflict and condescension that makes the eventual win—and that final handshake—just that much more satisfying.
This classic underdog arc is all set in motion by an honest but naïve little line describing a less-than-classic black leather blazer.
But feel free to argue which line started it all in the comments ;) I love a spirited (respectful) debate.
Time for our Line Analysis:
Efficiency: 3. Not wasteful, but not tightly packed with meaning. One “uh” woulda done it.
Context: 5. It’s pretty essential to setting up the offense / defense that drives the tone of the entire plot.
Character: 6. Unmistakably Italian New Yorker (the line, the delivery, AND the jacket), but doesn’t hold up out of context.
Effect: 5. I laughed. It’s a moment of absurdity in a serious circumstance. But by definition, it’s not one of the better known, scene stealing lines.
But as we’ve learned from My Cousin Vinny, never underestimate the unknown. Capiche?
Total Score: 19/28.
Not too shabby for a guy who had to take the bar six times.
P.S. I chose to start with My Cousin Vinny before the nightmare of wrongful imprisonment for Kilmar Armando Abrego Garcia began. It is horrifying and tragic and a clear undoing of American rights and values. I do not post this to make light of wrongful imprisonment. Just to recall and wallow in a movie from my yute that brings me joy. Stay strong out there.
Is it exclusive? Yup. I made it just for ITL. Professionally crafted? You got it. 20+ years of experience in strategy, comms, and verbal identity over here. Reasonably objective: I’m the only one doing the ratings; we’ll see how heated this gets and if the system needs to evolve over time. BUT we are using a 1-7 point system vs a 1-5 system or a 1-10 system, which is generally recognized as the superior rating system for its balance between detail of outcome and ease of input.
Line Analysis Framework: A quadrant framework, similar to the “4Cs” approach:
Efficiency: Wastes nothing; no matter the length, every word is necessary and intentional
1 = Just filler 7 = Airtight
Context: Exploits elements of the broader story; adds depth and meaning
1 = No added value 7 = Essential
Character: Expresses specific tone and personality; captures role and indicates background
1 = Could be anyone 7 = Unmistakable
Effect: Evokes an emotional response; has immediate and lasting impact
1 = I feel nothing 7 = Unforgettable
Works cited: My Cousin Vinny, directed by Jonathan Lynne, distributed by 20th Century Fox, released March 13, 1992.
If you didn’t read this in a robot voice, you missed an epic time in cartoons and Saturday mornings.
Just for example, it’s fairly standard for a corporate tagline to take two to four months and $35-$50K to develop; more than once I’ve worked on taglines that have taken longer than nine months and (with research) cost over $100k. Like I said—another post! Taglines are waaaayyyyyy more interesting and challenging than most people realize.
My verbal identity / brand voice / copywriting nerds all know how incredibly difficult it can be to get big companies on board with getting a company to use the first person or even second person POV, KILL ME for wanting to sound like a HUMAN BEING.
Nice! Also up for contention as a line that kicks things off, “Oh yeah, you blend.”
I like the framework! Very efficient way to analyze a line. Thanks for sharing this.