Crash (2004) - full transcript

Over a thirty-six hour period in Los Angeles, a handful of disparate people's lives intertwine as they deal with the tense race relations that belie life in the city. Among the players are: the Caucasian district attorney, who uses race as a political card; his Caucasian wife, who, having recently been carjacked by two black men, believes that her stereotypical views of non-whites is justified and cannot be considered racism; the two black carjackers who use their race both to their advantage and as an excuse; partnered Caucasian police constables, one who is a racist and uses his authority to harass non-whites, and the other who hates his partner because of those racist views, but who may have the same underlying values in his subconscious; a black film director and his black wife, who believes her husband doesn't support their black background enough, especially in light of an incident with the racist white cop; partnered police detectives and sometimes lovers, one Hispanic female and the other black male, the latter who is dealing with a drugged out mother that feels he isn't concerned enough about taking care of family; an East Asian man who is run over but who is hiding some valuable cargo in the back of his van; a Persian store owner, who feels he isn't getting satisfaction from American society when his store is robbed time and time again; and a Hispanic locksmith, who just wants to keep his family, especially his young daughter, safe in a seemingly unsafe world.

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It's the sense of touch.

What?

Any real city, you walk, you know?

You brush past people.

People bump into you.

In L.A., nobody touches you.

We're always behind

this metal and glass.

I think we miss

that touch so much

that we crash into each other

just so we can feel something.

You guys okay?

I think he hit his head.

You don't think that's true?

Stay in your car.

Graham, I think

we got rear-ended.

I think we spun around twice.

And somewhere in there,

one of us lost our frame of reference.

And I'm gonna go look for it.

- Calm down, ma'am.

- I am calm!

I need to see your registration

and insurance.

Why? It's not my fault!

It's her fault! She do this!

My fault?

Ma'am, you really need

to wait in your vehicle.

My fault?

Stop in middle of street!

Mexicans no know how to drive.

She "blake" too fast.

I "blake" too fast? I "blake" too fast.

- I'm sorry you no see my "blake" lights.

- Ma'am.

See, I stop when I see a long line of cars

stopped in front of me.

Maybe you see over

steering wheel, you "blake" too!

Ma'am!

I call immigration on you.

Look what you do my car.

Officer, can you please write in your report how

shocked I am to be hit by an Asian driver!

- Ma'am!

- Ma'am, no. See, Detective...

All right. You've got to calm down.

Hey, Detective! Nice entrance.

Fuck you.

Hey, you okay?

I'm freezin'.

Shit. I heard it might snow.

- Get outta here.

- That's what I heard.

- You got a smoke?

- Nah. I quit.

Yeah, me too.

- What do you got?

- Dead kid.

Hey, Bob.

You get one free box of ammunition.

What kind do you want?

Yo, Osama! Plan a jihad

on your own time.

What do you want?

Are you making insult at me?

Am I making insult "at" you?

Is that the closest you can come to English?

- Yes, I speak English! I am American citizen.

- Oh, God, here we go.

I have right like you.

I have right to buy gun.

Not in my store, you don't!

Andy, get him outta here now!

- Go wait in the car.

- Now. Get out!

You're an ignorant man!

Yeah, I'm ignorant?

You're liberating my country.

And I'm flying 747s into your mud huts

and incinerating your friends?

- Get the fuck out!

- No, you get the fuck out!

No, don't touch me!

He cheat me!

- Andy, now!

- Let's go.

Okay.

You can give me the gun

or give me back the money.

And I am really hoping

for the money.

- What kind of ammunition do you want?

- Whatever fits.

We got a lot of kinds.

We got long colts,

short colts, bull heads,

flat nose, hollow points,

wide cutters,

and a dozen more that'll fit

any size hole.

Just depends upon how

much bang you can handle.

I'll take the ones

in the red box.

- You know what those are?

- Can I have them?

Did you see any white people waitin' an hour

and 32 minutes for a plate of spaghetti?

And how many cups of coffee

did we get?

You don't drink coffee

and I didn't want any.

Man, that woman poured cup after cup

to every single white person around us.

But did she even ask you

if you wanted any?

We didn't get any coffee that you didn't want

and I didn't order,

and that's evidence

of racial discrimination?

Did you notice

that our waitress was black?

And black women don't think

in stereotypes?

You tell me.

When was the last time you met one

who didn't think she knew

everything about your lazy ass

before you even opened

your mouth, huh?

That waitress sized us up

in two seconds.

We're black, and black people don't tip.

She wasn't gonna waste her time.

Somebody like that? Nothing you can do

to change their mind.

How much did you leave?

You expect me to pay

for that kind of service?

What? What the fuck

is you laughin' at, man?

I'm seriously starting to think

that you're jealous of Karen.

Hardly. I'd just like to see you get through

a meal without calling her or anyone else.

Okay, no more phone calls.

As a matter of fact, you can hold the battery.

Okay?

Ten bucks says

she calls you in the car.

Wait, wait, wait.

See what that woman just did?

- You see that?

- She's cold.

She got colder

as soon as she saw us.

- Ah, come on, don't start.

- Man, look around you, man.

You couldn't find a whiter, safer

or better-lit part of this city right now.

But yet this white woman

sees two black guys

who look like UCLA students

strolling down the sidewalk,

and her reaction

is blind fear?

Look at us, dawg.

Are we dressed like gangbangers?

Huh? No.

Do we look threatening? No.

Fact. If anybody should be

scared around here, it's us!

We're the only two black faces surrounded by

a sea of over-caffeinated white people

patrolled by

the trigger-happy L. A. P. D.

So you tell me.

Why aren't we scared?

'Cause we got guns?

You could be right.

- Get the fuck outta the car!

- Gimme the keys!

- Hurry up! Get down!

- Okay, okay, okay, okay.

- No, no! Please!

- Don't look at me! Turn around!

- Come on! Go!

- We're fine! Just keep moving!

No, no, no! Take that voodoo-assed thing

off of there right now.

I know you just didn't call

Saint Christopher voodoo.

Man's the patron saint

of travelers, dawg.

You had a conversation

with God, huh? What did God say?

"Go forth, my son, and leave big slobbery

suction rings on every dashboard you find"?

Why the hell do you do that?

Look at the way your crazy ass drive,

then ask me again.

Chevy pickup and Mercedes

driving north on Balboa.

Pickup cuts in front. Driver of the Mercedes

gets pissed, pulls a gun.

Doesn't realize the guy in the pickup

is a cop coming off shift.

This Barry Gibb dude is a cop?

Yeah. Name's Conklin.

He's a narc out of Wilshire.

I got the Mercedes.

Mercedes takes a shot at him.

Detective Conklin returns fire. One shot.

Mercedes rolls to a stop. Driver opens the

door, falls out dead.

He looks very relaxed

for just having shot somebody.

He says he kept tryin'

to drive away.

The Mercedes kept pulling up next to him,

screaming, waving a gun.

Shot back in self-defense.

- Anybody actually see who shot first?

- They just heard two bangs.

Find me a witness.

That is a nice gun.

The car's registered

to a Cindy Bradley.

And that's not Cindy.

That is a William Lewis.

Found under the front seat.

Hollywood Division.

Looks like Detective Conklin

shot himself the wrong nigger.

- How much longer are you gonna be?

- This is the last one.

Thank you.

You don't think reporters listen to police calls?

I need to talk to you

for a second.

You just give me a minute,

all right?

- Find Flanagan, will you? Now.

- Yes, sir.

Yes, honey?

I want the locks changed again in the morning.

You want-- Why don't you just go lie down?

Have you checked on James?

Of course. I've checked on him every five

minutes since we've been home.

Do not patronize me. I want the locks

changed again in the morning.

It's okay.

Just go to bed.

You know, didn't I just ask you

not to treat me like a child?

I'm sorry, Miss Jean.

Is okay I go home now?

It's fine. Thank you

very much for staying.

You're welcome. No problem.

Good night.

- Good night.

- We'll see you tomorrow.

I would like the locks

changed again in the morning.

And you might mention

that we'd appreciate it

if next time they didn't send

a gang member.

- A gang member? You mean that kid in there?

- Yes, yes.

Yes. The guy with the shaved head,

the pants around his ass, the prison tattoo.

- Those are not prison tattoos.

- Oh, really?

And he's not gonna sell our key

to one of his gangbanger friends

- the moment he is out our door?

- We've had a tough night.

- lt'd be best if you went upstairs...

- And wait for them to break in?

I just had a gun pointed in my face.

You lower your voice!

And it was my fault

because I knew it was gonna happen.

But if a white person sees two black men

walking towards her,

and she turns and walks in the other direction,

she's a racist, right?

Well, I got scared

and I didn't say anything.

And ten seconds later

I had a gun in my face!

I am telling you. Your amigo in there is gonna

sell our key to one of his homies.

And this time it'd be really fucking great

if you acted like you actually gave a shit!

All right, what have we got?

Talk to me, Karen.

Flanagan doesn't think

anybody has the story yet.

I'm the goddamn

District Attorney of Los Angeles.

If my car gets jacked,

it's gonna make news.

Fuck!

Why did these guys

have to be black?

I mean, why?

No matter how we spin this,

I'm either gonna lose the black vote

or I'm gonna lose the law-and-order vote.

You're worrying too much. You have

a lot of support in the black community.

All right. If we can't duck this thing,

we're gonna have to neutralize it.

What we need is a picture of me

pinning a medal on a black man.

Bruce?

The firefighter.

The one who saved the camp or something.

Northridge. What's his name?

He's Iraqi.

He's lraqi?

Well, he looks black.

He's dark-skinned, sir, but he's Iraqi.

His name's Saddam Khahum.

Saddam?

His-His name's Saddam?

That's real good, Bruce. I'm gonna pin a medal

on an Iraqi named Saddam.

Give yourself a raise, will you?

It's been good

doing business with you.

- How soon can I have them?

- I'm picking them up right now.

Look, you're not listening to me.

This is an emergency.

I keep telling you he's in pain.

He can't sleep.

Mr. Ryan, your father has been to the clinic

three times in the last month.

He is being treated for a urinary tract infection.

That is by no means an emergency.

If you have any more questions

about your HMO plan, why don't you

make an appointment to come in between

10:00 and 4:00, Monday through Friday.

What does my father do

about sleeping tonight?

I don't know.

I'm not a doctor.

- I wanna talk to your supervisor.

- I am my supervisor!

- What is your name?

- Shaniqua Johnson.

Shaniqua.

Big fucking surprise that is.

Bronson Avenue, WestWood.

Vehicle is described as a black

late-model Lincoln Navigator.

California plate

4 Peter Charles Ida 315.

Suspects are tWo black males,

approximately 20 years of age.

That's not it.

That's not the vehicle, John.

The plates don't match.

The driver's gotta be 40. Nobody jacks a car

and takes it to Studio City.

They were doin' something.

Enthusiastic.

Keep your hands

where I can see 'em, please.

I'm gonna need to see

your driver's license and registration.

No problem.

I'm gonna have to reach inside the glove

compartment to get the registration.

- Is that okay?

- Nice and slow, please.

Okay.

How are you tonight, Officer?

Excellent.

Here you go.

Stay inside the vehicle, please.

Let's do it again right now.

Step outta the car, please, sir.

Wait a minute, Officer.

I haven't been drinking or anything.

Then we shouldn't have a problem.

He doesn't drink.

He's a Buddhist, for Christ's sake.

No, it's okay.

It's fine.

Step onto the sidewalk, sir.

That's good. Right there.

Look at me.

I want you to stand

on your right foot.

Touch your nose

with the index finger of your left hand.

I told you he doesn't drink.

Ma'am, I'm only gonna tell you

one time to stay in the vehicle.

- Ma'am?

- Honey, honey, I'm okay. I got this.

Don't you "ma'am" me. Who the hell

do you think you're talking to?

Look, Officer, my wife

has had a couple of drinks--

Both of you, turn around. Put your hands on

top of your head and interlock your fingers.

Wait. We're only a block away from our house.

Hands on your head.

Interlock your fingers.

- Hands on your head. Interlock your fingers.

- I'm a television director.

Me and my wife were just coming home

from an awards show.

Take your hands off him.

He's done nothing wrong.

Put your hands on top

of your head, ma'am.

- Do what he says.

- Fuck you!

Put your hands...

And you keep

your filthy fucking hands off me!

You motherfucking pig!

- Just stop talking!

- That's quite a mouth you have.

Of course you know that.

Fuck you! That's what

this is all about, isn't it?

You thought you saw a white woman blowin' a

black man. That drove your cracker ass crazy.

Will you just shut

your fucking mouth!

I'd listen to your husband, ma'am.

Put your legs open.

Do you have any guns or knives

or anything I might get stuck with?

I'm wearing a cocktail dress.

What do you think?

You'd be surprised some of the places

I've found weapons.

He's clean.

What do you think we should do about this,

Mr. Thayer?

My partner and I just witnessed your wife

performing fellatio on you

while you were operating

a motor vehicle.

That's reckless endangerment,

which incidentally is a felony.

We could charge your wife with lewd conduct

and performing a sexual act in public.

You say you're a block from home.

We could use our discretion

and let you go with a warning,

or we could cuff you and put you

in the back of the car.

What do you think

we should do, sir?

Look, we're sorry, and

we would appreciate if you would just

let us go with a warning, please.

The man's apologizing, Tommy.

I think we can let him go.

Don't you?

Yeah.

All right.

You can go.

You folks

drive safe now, huh?

Let's go, Tommy.

It won't close.

I can do that.

Dad, you couldn't even get it open.

Have respect for your father.

Give me the gun!

Here. Now you can shoot

anybody you want.

Dorri, that man

could've killed your mother.

You think I should let crazy people

do what they want to us?

Farhad, it won't close.

Dorri, you should be at work.

Who are you calling?

I'm gonna report their asses.

Sons of bitches.

You actually believe they're gonna take

anything you have to say seriously?

Do you have any idea how that felt?

To have that pig's hands all over me?

And you just stood there!

And then you apologized to him?

What did you want me to do?

Get us both shot?

They were gonna shoot us

on Ventura Boulevard! Pathetic.

Well, maybe you would've been satisfied

with just being arrested.

Oh, I get it. Much better to let him

shove his hand up my crotch

than get your name in the paper.

You finally got me

figured out, 'cause see,

that's exactly

what I was worried about right there.

Oh? You weren't afraid that

all your good friends at the studio

were gonna read about you in the morning

and realize he's actually black?

You need to calm down right now.

What I need is a husband who will not just

stand there while I am being molested!

They were cops for God sakes!

They had guns!

Maybe I should've let them

arrest your ass.

Sooner or later you gotta find out

what it is really like to be black.

Fuck you, man.

Like you know.

The closest you ever came to being black,

Cameron, was watching The Cosby ShoW.

At least I wasn't watching it

with the rest of the equestrian team.

You're right, Cameron.

I got a lot to learn

'cause I haven't quite learned

how to shuck and jive.

Let me hear it again.

Thank you, mister policeman.

You sure is mighty kind

to us poor black folk.

You be sure to let me know next time

you wanna finger-fuck my wife.

How the fuck do you say

something like that to me?

You know, fuck you!

That's good. A little anger.

It's a bit late, but it's nice to see!

How's it goin'?

Okay.

You didn't get scared

or something, did you?

There's no monsters in the closet, right?

'Cause I hate monsters.

There's no such thing

as monsters.

Ah, that's a good thing.

I heard a bang.

Like a truck bang?

Like a gun.

That's funny, 'cause we moved

outta that bad neighborhood.

And there's not

too many guns around here.

How far can bullets go?

They go pretty far.

But they usually get stuck

in something and stop.

What if they don't?

You thinking about that bullet

that came through your window?

You think we should move again?

I like it here.

Me too. But if that bullet

found out where we lived...

Oh, hold on.

What?

So stupid!

How can I forget this?

What?

Nah. Forget it.

You ain't gonna believe me.

Tell me.

Okay.

When I was five, this fairy

came into my room one night.

- Right.

- See, I told you you weren't gonna believe me.

- Okay, go to sleep now, you little rat.

- No, tell me.

Okay.

So this fairy comes into my room and I'm like,

"Yeah, right, you're a fairy."

Anyway, we're talking, you know.

And she's flying all around the room,

knocking down all my posters and stuff.

She was flying?

She had these little stubby wings.

She could've glued 'em on, you know?

Like I'm gonna believe

she's a fairy.

So she said, "I'll prove it."

So she reaches

into her backpack.

And she pulls out

this invisible cloak.

She ties it around my neck, and she tells me

that it's impenetrable.

You know what

impenetrable means?

It means that nothing

can go through it.

No bullets. Nothing.

She told me that if I wore it,

nothing would hurt me.

So I did. And my whole life,

I never got shot, stabbed.

Nothing.

I mean, how weird is that?

Only she told me that I was supposed to give it

to my daughter on her fifth birthday.

And I forgot.

Can I touch it?

Sure, go ahead.

- I don't feel it.

- Yeah. It's pretty cool, huh?

I can take it off and tie it around your

shoulders. She told me how to do it.

- Unless you think it's stupid.

- Don't you need it?

No, not anymore.

So what do you think?

You want it?

Okay, let's get outta here.

Okay.

Put your head up.

Okay. Is that too tight?

Do you feel anything at all?

Good. Then it's just right.

Do I take it off

when I have a bath?

No, you leave it on

all the time.

Until you have a daughter when she turns five,

then you give it to her.

Okay?

Okay.

Okay. Good night, sweetie.

Good night.

Nah, nah. You wanna listen to music

of the oppressor, you go right ahead, man.

How in the lunacy of your mind

is hip-hop music of the oppressor?

Listen to it, man!

"Nigger this, nigger that."

You think white people go around calling

each other honkies all day, man?

"Hey, honky, how's business??"'

"Going great, cracker.

We're diversifying."

How 'bout this, huh? Listen. You like that?

Man's singin' about lynchin' niggers.

And you think

there's a difference, don't you? Huh?

Gonna buy me a rope

and lynch me a nigger

You have absolutely no idea where hip-hop

music comes from, do you?

I'd shoot 'em dead first

but I done broke my trigger

See, back in the '60s we had

smart, articulate black men.

Gonna get out my sheet

Put my hood on my head

Like Huey Newton, Bobby Seale,

Eldridge Cleaver, Fred Hampton.

Gonna string 'em up good

These brothers were speaking out,

and people were listening!

Then they'll be dead

Then the FBl said,

"No, we can't have that."

Home of the brave

and the land of the free

"Let's give the niggers

this music by a bunch of mumbling idiots

and sooner or later,

they'll all copy it, and nobody

will be able to understand

a fucking word they say.

End of problem."

What the fuck was that, dawg?

- Holy shit!

- What?

Man, we done ran over a Chinaman.

You're sayin' there's a Chinaman

under this truck?

What part don't you understand?

There's a Chinaman stuck

underneath the fucking truck.

Help me.

Uh-huh. Uh-huh.

Ah, God. What the hell did he do,

just leap out in front of the truck?

Man! This is so

completely fucked up.

Oh, really? No shit!

Okay, hold up.

Hold up, hold up, hold up.

- Get back in the truck.

- What?

- Yes, get back in the truck.

- You think we didn't drag him far enough?

No, we gonna drive away.

And he gonna let go.

He's not gonna let go, Anthony.

You know why? Because he's stuck

underneath the fucking truck!

Now, if he could've let go, he probably would've

considered that option half a block back.

What you and I gotta do, just grab his arms

and pull him from underneath.

You grab his arm,

it's gonna fall off.

Then you gonna be standing in the street

holding a Chinaman's arm.

Then what your ass gonna do, huh?

If we leave this man here, he dies.

Then we're up for murder charges.

Just grab his arm.

We'll just pull him out.

I don't wanna cause any problems, Lieutenant.

I just want a new partner.

I understand. Your partner's a racist prick.

But you don't wanna stir up

any bad feelings with him.

He's been on the force for a long time.

Seventeen years.

And I do have to work here, sir.

So you don't mind

that there's a racist prick on the force.

You just don't want him

to ride in your car.

If you need me to go on record

about this, sir, I will.

That'd be great.

Write a full report.

Because I'm anxious to

understand how an obvious bigot

could've gone undetected

in this department for 17 years.

Eleven of which he was under

my personal supervision.

Which doesn't speak very highly

of my managerial skills.

But that's not your concern.

I can't wait to read it.

What if I said I wanted a new partner

for personal reasons?

So now you're saying he's not a racist prick,

you just don't like him.

- Yes, sir.

- That's not a good enough reason.

Then I guess I should think of a better one

and get back to you.

So you think I'm asking you

to make one up.

Uh, no, sir. I just can't

think of one...right now.

You wanna know what I heard?

I heard it was a case

of uncontrollable flatulence.

You want me to say

he has flatulence?

Not him. You.

You have uncontrollable flatulence.

You're too embarrassed to ride with anybody

else so you're requesting a one-man car.

I'm not...comfortable with that,

Lieutenant.

I wouldn't be either. Which is why

I understand your need for privacy.

Just like I'm sure you understand how hard

a black man has to work to get to,

say, where I am, in a racist fucking

organization like the L.A. P D.

and how easily

that can be taken away.

Now, that being said,

it's your decision.

You can put your career and mine on the line

in pursuit of a just cause,

or you can admit to having

an embarrassing problem

of a personal nature.

Fuck.

Excuse me.

Excuse me. Sir?

You finished?

I replaced the lock.

But you got a real problem with that door.

You fix the lock?

Nah, I replaced the lock.

But you gotta fix that door.

- Just fix the lock!

- Sir, sir, sir. Listen to me.

What you need

is a new door.

- I need new door?

- Yeah.

Okay. How much?

I don't-- Sir, you're gonna have to call

somebody that sells doors.

You try to cheat me, right?

You have a friend that fix door?

Nah, I don't have a friend

that fix doors, bro.

Then go and fix the fucking lock, you cheater.

You-- You know what?

Why don't you just pay for the lock

and I won't charge you for the time.

You don't fix the lock!

I pay! You think I'm stupid?

You fix the fucking lock,

you cheater!

- I'd appreciate if you'd stop calling me names.

- Then fix the fucking lock!

I replaced the lock!

You gotta fix the fucking door!

You cheat!

You fucking cheater!

- Fine. Don't pay.

- What?

- Have a good night.

- What? No. Wait!

Wait! You come back here!

You fix the lock!

Come here! You fix my lock!

Fix the fucking lock!

I understand. You run over a Chinaman.

Stuff him in the back.

Then bring the truck here

so I can share in the experience.

Come on, man. It's a little bit of blood.

It'll wash right off.

- Georgie, burn this thing.

- Burn it?

It's a brand-new Navigator.

All you need is a little piece of carpet.

You watch the Discovery Channel?

- Not a lot.

- They got some good shit on that channel.

Every night there is a show

with somebody shining a blue light

and finding tiny specks of blood splattered

on carpets and walls and ceiling fans,

bathroom fixtures and special-edition plastic

Burger King tray cups.

The next thing they show is some stupid

redneck in handcuffs

who looks absolutely stunned

that this is happening to him.

Sometimes the redneck is actually watching

the Discovery Channel

when they break in to arrest him.

And he still can't figure out how on earth

they could've caught him!

Do I look like I wanna be

on the Discovery Channel?

No.

Then get the fuck

outta my shop.

Oh, yeah, make sure

you get that.

Without him, things could've gone really

fucking wrong tonight.

- Fuck!

- Don't! Don't you dare.

Don't.

Graham Waters.

No. No, he's not here, Mom.

I'm not gonna go looking for him.

Look, he'll be home when--

Just leave it alone.

Mom, I can't talk to you right now, okay?

I'm having sex with a white woman.

Okay, where were we?

I was white, and you were

about to jerk off in the shower.

Oh, shit!

Come on.

I would've said you were Mexican, but I don't

think it would've pissed her off as much.

Why do you keep everybody

at a certain distance, huh?

- What, you start to feel something and panic?

- Come on, Maria.

You're just pissed

'cause I answered the phone.

That's just where

I begin to get pissed.

I mean, really, what kind of man

speaks to his mother that way?

Oh, this is about my mother.

What do you know about my mother?

If I was your father,

I'd kick your fucking ass.

Okay. I was raised badly.

Why don't you take your clothes off,

get back into bed and teach me a lesson?

You want a lesson? I'll give you a lesson.

How 'bout a geography lesson?

My father's from Puerto Rico.

My mother's from El Salvador.

Neither one of those is Mexico.

Ah. Then I guess the big mystery is

who gathered all those

remarkably different cultures together

and taught them all how

to park their cars on their lawns?

Pop, you okay?

If I could piss, I'd be okay.

I'm-- Jesus.

I'm done now.

Give me a hand.

Wait a goddamn minute!

- Wait a minute.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa.

All right. Okay. Okay.

Wait, wait, wait.

Stop, stop!

- I gotta go back.

- Okay.

What, are you gonna

stand there and stare at me?

- So Conklin just shot him?

- Mm-hmm.

- They know each other?

- Sir.

It's a grudge thing?

Not as far as we can tell.

You think this is

racially motivated?

Well, a dozen people heard the shots.

Nobody saw anything.

- Who do we have on it?

- Graham Waters.

Waters. All right. Well, tell him

he speaks to no one but me.

Call a press conference for 4:.00,

and I want Waters here at 3:.30.

And would someone

please find Flanagan.

Oh! What up, Mo Phat?

Man robs purses from old ladies and you,

"Hey, how's it goin', Mo Phat??"'

That nigger will steal teeth

from a cripple, man.

You callin' him a thief?

And we do what?

The man steals

from black people.

Only reason black people steal from their own

is 'cause they terrified of white people.

Oh, man, please.

Think about it. Sherman Oaks.

Burbank. Santa Monica.

All scary-ass places

for a brother to find himself.

Drop Mo Phat at a Starbucks

in Toluca Lake,

that nigger will run like a rabbit soon

as somebody say "decaf latte."

What the fuck did you do to my car?

Sorry I take your car, Miss Jean.

I turn key to my car, but nothing.

James wanted to take this to school.

But I don't want the kids to fight over it.

- Are these clean or dirty?

- All clean, senora!

You know, Maria, just once I would like to

wake up and find these dishes in the cabinet.

Si, senora.

No problem.

I'm startin' to understand now.

By your work, you're settin' an example

for our neighborhood.

Sort of like a big brother

kind of thing, right?

Yeah, you laugh, man.

But you have never seen me steal

from a black person ever in your life.

What the hell do you think

you doin' right now, man?

Wavin' down the bus.

Put your hand down, dawg!

Are you outta your mind?

You actually expect me

to get on a bus?

No. I was hopin' we could

push your car across town.

You know why? 'Cause we just don't

do stuff like that no more.

You have no idea, do you?

You have no idea why they put them great big

windows on the sides of buses, do you?

- Why?

- One reason only.

To humiliate the people of color

who are reduced to ridin' on 'em.

I didn't know that.

You could fill the Staples Center

with what you don't know.

You know the Kings

are playin' tonight.

You don't like hockey! The only reason

you say you do is to piss me off!

I love hockey.

Cut! Print. Moving on.

Okay, that takes us into scene 1 2.

Okay, that takes us into scene 1 2.

Jamal, that's what

I'm talking about.

Right on.

- Cam, you got a second?

- Yeah, Fred, I just wanna grab some coffee.

Yeah. Listen. I think

we need another take, buddy.

That looked

pretty terrific, man.

This is gonna sound strange, but is Jamal

seeing a speech coach or something?

What do you mean?

Have you noticed, uh--

This is weird for a white guy to say,

but have you noticed

he's talking a lot less black lately?

No, I haven't noticed that.

Really? Like in this scene, he was supposed to

say, "Don't be talkin' 'bout that."

And he changed it to,

"Don't talk to me about that."

Wait a minute.

You think because of that, the audience

won't recognize him as being a black man?

Come on!

Is there a problem, Cam?

Excuse me?

Is there a problem, Cam?

No, we don't have a problem.

I mean, 'cause all I'm saying

is it's not his character.

Eddie's supposed to be

the smart one, not Jamal, right?

You're the expert here.

But to me, it rings false.

- We're gonna do it one more time.

- Thanks, buddy.

Everybody back.

Let's do it one more time.

Jamal, um...

Morning, Carol.

Who do I have?

Hold for a minute, please.

Mr. Trujillo called and cancelled,

but you have a walk-in, Mr. Ryan.

Send him in.

- Mr. Ryan.

- Yeah.

My name is Shaniqua Johnson.

I believe we spoke last night.

Oh, yeah. I wanted

to apologize about that.

I haven't been gettin' too much sleep.

My father's in a lot of pain.

Oh! I'm sorry to hear that.

This doctor he's been seein'

says he's got a urinary tract infection.

But he's been takin' this medicine for a month,

and he keeps gettin' worse.

And he's been back to see

Dr. Robertson?

Yeah. Between you and me,

the man's an idiot.

- Really?

- No offense.

But the guy sees 1 00 patients an hour.

I think his nurses are doing most of the work.

Mmm. If you're unhappy, your father's welcome

to see a doctor outside the network.

And if this new doctor

says it's not an infection,

says it's his prostate and it needs to be

operated on, is that gonna be covered?

- Not unless Dr. Robertson authorizes--

- What good is that gonna do?

I'm sorry. There's nothing else I can do.

All right.

You know what I can't do?

I can't look at you without

thinking about the five or six

more qualified white men

who didn't get your job.

It's time for you to go.

I'm saying this 'cause I'm hoping

that I'm wrong about you.

I'm hoping that someone like yourself,

someone who may have been

given a helping hand,

might have a little compassion

for someone in a similar situation.

Carol, I need security in my office!

You don't like me, that's fine.

I'm a prick.

My father doesn't deserve

to suffer like this.

He was a janitor.

He struggled his whole life.

Saved enough to start

his own company.

Twenty-three employees,

all of them black.

Paid 'em equal wages

when no one else was doing that.

For 30 years he worked side by side with

those men, sweeping and carrying garbage.

Then the city council decides to give

minority-owned companies

preference in city contracts.

And overnight,

my father loses everything.

His business, his home, his wife.

Everything!

Not once does he blame your people.

I'm not asking you to help me.

I'm asking that you do this small thing

for a man who lost everything

so people like yourself

could reap the benefits.

And do you know

what it's gonna cost you?

Nothing.

Just a flick of your pen.

Your father sounds

like a good man.

And if he'd come in here today, I probably

would've approved this request.

But he didn't come in. You did.

And for his sake, it's a real shame.

Get him the hell outta my office.

Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

Sir, I spoke to our employee, and he told you

you needed to replace or repair the door.

He say he fix the lock.

- You come here, see how "fix-ed" it is!

- You're yelling again.

I am not yelling! I'm upset!

Yes-- Yes, I am.

Mom, are you all right?

Stop washing.

Insurance must take picture.

Okay?

Look what they wrote.

They think we're Arab.

When did Persian become Arab?

I want his name. Yes.

Oh, my God.

- I want his name! Give me his name!

- Dad?

I'm not giving you his name, sir.

- Dad, did they take the gun?

- Not fix my lock! I want his name!

I'm gonna hang up now, sir.

Don't hang up! Shit!

Oh, thank God.

Mom?

Mom, it's cold. Come on.

Did you find your brother?

No, Mom.

I was doin' good.

I was-- I was doin' real good.

- I know, Mom.

- I was doin'...

It's okay.

Did you find your brother?

No, Mom.

Tell him to come home.

Tell him I'm not mad, okay?

Okay, baby?

Okay, Mom.

Okay, baby.

Okay.

Okay.

- Did you apologize to your mother?

- She wasn't there.

Internal Affairs called.

Found something in the Mercedes.

That's lunch. One hour.

I tried to call.

Sounded like you're havin'

a bad day, huh?

Yeah.

What?

I got scared, Cam.

It's not like I haven't been

pulled over before. You know?

But not like that.

And, yes, I was a little drunk.

And I was mouthing off.

I'm sorry.

But when that man was

putting his hands on me...

I don't wanna talk about it.

I can't believe

you let him do that, baby.

Look, I know what you did

was the right thing. Okay?

But I was humiliated!

For you.

I just couldn't stand to see

that man take away your dignity.

Yeah. That's what happened.

- Oh, baby, don't do this.

- No. No, you're right.

I ain't doin' it.

You gonna walk away from me?

- Cameron!

- Just go home.

Mm-hmm.

I understand.

Thanks.

- Has your father read his policy?

- He doesn't read English.

Mr. Golzari, you said

you called the locksmith?

Yes. I tell him, fix it.

They said their man told you to fix the door,

and you didn't do so.

Are you saying it's his fault?

Insurance company is calling it negligence.

They're not covering any of this.

No. This store is all we have.

I really am sorry.

What time

you must go to work?

Not until tonight.

Go home and sleep.

It's okay. It's okay.

Go home and sleep.

Hey.

Maybe they didn't tell you,

but I've been reassigned.

Yeah, they told me.

I just wanted to say, good luck

and it was good ridin' with you.

You too.

Wait till you've been

on the job a few more years.

- Yeah.

- Look at me, look at me.

Wait till you've been doin' it

a little longer.

You think you know

who you are, hmm?

You have no idea.

Yo, Gomez,

you ready to roll, homie?

Ready, amigo.

Radio check, 2-1 -L-2-3.

2-1-L-23, picking up screams and noises

from your car.

21-L, is your mike open

by any chance?

Call it in.

Ma'am?

Can you hear me?

Paramedics are rolling.

They'll be here in two minutes.

- Get an extinguisher, and get that fire out.

- Jesus.

Ma'am, are you hurt?

- Can you move?

- l-- I can't breathe.

Okay, I'm gonna get you out.

It's okay.

Okay. Okay.

Okay, I'm gonna get you out.

No!

- It's okay.

- Get away from me!

Get away.

Stay away from me!

Not you! Not you!

- It's okay.

- Don't touch me! Don't touch me!

- Keep away from me!

- Lady, I'm tryin'-- I'm tryin' to help you.

Fuck you! Not you!

Somebody! Anybody else!

- Please, somebody! Not you!

- Stop moving!

No! Get your filthy

fucking hands off me!

Stop moving. Lady, I'm not

gonna fucking hurt you!

Okay. Okay.

Please don't touch me. Don't, don't.

I'm not gonna touch you.

But there's nobody else here yet

and that's gasoline there.

We need to get you

outta here right away. Okay?

Oh, my-- Oh, my--

Oh, my-- Oh, my God.

Okay. I need to reach across your lap.

Can I do that, please?

Yeah. Yeah.

Thanks.

Is anything broken?

I-I don't think so.

Okay. Then that's good.

Are you-- Are you

gonna get me out?

Yeah, I'm gonna get you out. Okay?

Look at me. Look at me.

I'm gonna get you out.

Oh, fuck!

- I'm sorry.

- That's okay.

I'm gonna have to cut your belt, okay?

I'm gonna have to cut the belt.

It's okay, it's okay.

It's okay.

Okay, we're gonna get you out.

Everything's gonna be fine.

Look at me!

Everything's gonna be fine.

We're gonna get you outta here.

Everything's gonna be fine.

Ryan!

Pull!

It's okay.

It's okay.

All right.

It's okay, it's okay.

It's all right.

I got it. I got it.

Ma'am? Ma'am,

can you walk with me?

It's cool, it's cool.

Here we go.

All right, you're doin' great.

The D.A. wanted me to apologize.

He really wanted to be here himself.

No, he didn't! If he did his own dirty work

none of us would have jobs.

- Jake Flanagan. I work with Rick.

- Graham Waters.

- Thanks for coming in.

- He just pulled into the garage.

Great. Press conference is in ten minutes,

so we'll make this short.

Internal Affairs says this Conklin

has two suspicious shootings on his record.

Both black men.

Both times he was cleared, but only just.

Detective Lewis

makes black man number three.

You know any reason why

we shouldn't hang Conklin for this?

Well, it's more complicated

than we originally thought.

We found $300,000 in the trunk of the car

that Detective Lewis was driving.

Shit!

Ah. Go down to the garage. Tell him

to stay in the car until he hears from me.

You found the money in the Mercedes.

I thought that wasn't his car.

The car's registered to a Cindy Bradley.

We haven't been able to get in touch with her.

Apparently she, uh,

left town this morning.

So it wasn't Lewis's car. He may not have

known the money was in it.

You really think you're gonna

be able to make that fly?

Give us a minute.

No problem.

Who knows about the money?

You gotta be kiddin' me.

There are only two people

in this room.

Myself, my partner,

Ferguson and lnternal Affairs.

- Jim Ferguson?

- Yeah.

Okay. I guess

I don't see a problem.

As it wasn't Lewis's car, the money isn't

clear evidence of any wrongdoing.

And even if it was, we aren't

going to prosecute a dead man.

Which means the money lnternal Affairs

is holding can't be considered evidence.

You can do this dance if you want to,

but I'm willing to bet when the coroner's report

comes back tomorrow

it's going to say that Detective Lewis

was coked out of his head.

Fucking black people, huh?

What did you just say?

I mean,

I know all the sociological

reasons why per capita

eight times more black men

are incarcerated than white men.

Schools are a disgrace. Lack of opportunity.

Bias in the judicial system.

All that stuff.

All that stuff!

But still, it's gotta get to you,

on a gut level as a black man,

they just can't keep their hands

out of the cookie jar.

Of course, you and l

know that's not the truth.

But that's the way

it always plays, doesn't it?

And assholes like Lewis keep

feeding the flames. It's gotta get to you.

What did you say

you did for the D.A. again?

You coach ball down in Compton.

Am I right?

Oh, please, don't do that.

Don't act like you know

something about me, okay?

What do you think those kids need...

to make them believe, to give them hope?

You think they need another

drug-dealing cop

or do you think they need

a fallen black hero?

Why don't you cut through the bullshit

and just tell me what it is you want.

The D.A.'s squad loses

its lead investigator next month.

Rick is quite adamant

that his replacement be a person of color.

It's a high-profile position, and he wants

to send the right message to the community.

And the right message is,

"Look at this black boy I just bought??"'

Well, fuck you very much.

But thanks for thinking of me.

Actually we were thinking of you.

Until we saw that.

It's your brother's file.

Twenty-something years old

and already three felonies.

Three strikes law. Kid's going away

for life for stealing a car.

Christ, that's a shitty law.

There's a warrant in there.

But still, hey, he had

every opportunity you had.

Fucking black people, huh?

So all, uh-- all I need to do

to make this disappear

is to frame

a potentially innocent man?

What are you? The fucking defender

of all things white?

We're talking about a white man

who shot three black men.

And you're arguing with me that maybe

we're not being fair to him?

You know what? Maybe you're right.

Maybe Lewis did provoke this.

And maybe he got exactly

what was coming to him.

Or maybe stoned or not,

just being a black man in the Valley

was enough to get him killed.

There was no one there to see who shot first,

so there is no way to know.

Which means we

could get this wrong.

Maybe that's what happened with

your brother. Maybe we got it wrong.

Maybe Lewis isn't the only one

who deserves the benefit of the doubt.

You're the one closest to all this.

You need to tell us.

What does your gut tell you?

So? Graham?

What do I tell 'em?

You tell me, and I'll tell them.

Well, I think given

Detective Conklin's history,

it's pretty clear

what happened last night.

Okay.

Before I get to why we're here,

I know that many of you have heard

we had our car stolen last night.

And as you could imagine, my wife and l

are both pretty shaken up.

But we're okay.

And Jean and I truly appreciate all your calls

and your concern. Thank you.

Now, just after 9:00 p. m. last night,

Detective William Lewis,

an eight-year veteran of the force

and an active member of the black community,

was gunned down

by a fellow officer.

Get outta the car!

Gimme the keys!

Get out-- What the fuck?

Whoa! What the fuck

are you doing, man?

Shit! You wanna get killed, nigger?

Say that again!

- Say that again!

- You stupid motherfucker!

Say it again, huh!

Call me a nigger again!

- Man, what the fuck? Get off!

- Fuck you!

- Shoot him!

- I'll blow your head off!

- Shoot this motherfucker!

- I swear to God, I'm gonna blow your head off!

Stop talkin' and shoot!

- Stop! Let's go! Here comes the po-po.

- Get off of me!

Hey, hey! Where you goin', man? Hell, no!

- Oh, shit.

- Anthony! Anthony!

Get the fuck outta my car!

Shit! Damn!

- What are you doin', man? Get outta the car!

- Fuck you!

Car 25 in pursuit of a black Navigator.

West bound.

I will blow you away!

Get the fuck out of the car!

Go on! Shoot me then!

2-2 lda Tom Adam 3--

Oh, Christ!

- Get the fuck outta the car!

- You get the fuck outta the car!

- Get outta the fucking car!

- It's my fucking car!

- It's my fucking gun!

- Fuck, it's my gun now!

Gimme my fucking gun!

Fuck!

Hands in plain sight!

Step out of the vehicle!

Hands in plain sight!

Step out of the vehicle!

Slowly step out of the vehicle.

- Get out of my car.

- You so brave, you get outta the car, man.

Turn off the engine.

Throw the keys out the window.

You fucking want me?

Here I am, you pig fuck!

Lie face down on the ground.

- Spread your arms and legs.

- No, you lie face down!

Don't come any closer!

Down on your knees!

Fuck you! What are you gonna do?

Pull the fucking trigger!

On your knees now!

You get on your knees

and suck my fucking dick!

Do I look like

I'm fucking joking with you?

That's what you look like,

a fucking joke to me.

- This man is making threatening gestures.

- Threatening gestures?

You wanna see a threatening gesture?

I got a threatening gesture.

- I know this man! I know this man!

- Get back.

- Give me some space. I know this guy.

- Get outta the way.

Step away.

Give me some goddamn room.

I know this guy.

- Man, don't walk up on me!

- See what's happening here?

Do you wanna die here, huh?

Is that what you want?

'Cause these guys

really wanna shoot you.

And the way you're acting,

they'll be completely fucking justified.

Fuck you!

Fuck me? I'm not the one who's fucked here.

You're the one.

'Cause you're the one

whose head's gonna be blown off!

Officer Hanson, step away.

He's a friend of mine, okay? He's a fucking

friend! This man is not armed!

He's not gonna shoot you, me,

or anybody else, all right?

So give me two goddamn seconds.

Can you do that?

Lower your firearm.

Lower your firearm!

You startin' to understand

the situation?

What do you want from me?

Unless you think your wife is better off with

a husband who has a bloody stump for a head,

I want you to sit on that curb,

put your hands on your head

and do nothing until I speak with these officers.

I'm not sittin' on no curb, I'm not puttin'

my hands on my head for nobody.

Then stand where you are and keep your

hands in sight. Can you do that, huh?

Yeah, I can do that.

Good.

I told this man to stay where he is and keep his

hands in plain sight.

This man better be related to you by blood

because this is fucking nuts.

I need this favor.

You can check the guy's name, his license.

He's got no priors, no warrants.

I need to let him go

with a warning.

- What kind of fucking warning?

- A harsh warning.

Thank you.

You've been warned. Do you understand me?

Do you understand me!

You want something from me?

'Cause I'm right here.

- I'm trying to help you.

- I didn't ask for your help, did l?

Go home.

Yeah, that I can do.

Look at me.

You embarrass me.

You embarrass yourself.

Daddy's home!

- What's up?

- Give me my money!

- What? What money?

- Daddy!

- To pay for my store. Give me my money!

- Honey, stay inside. Elizabeth!

Give me my money!

- I want my fucking money! Give me that truck!

- That's not my truck!

- Daddy?

- Elizabeth!

Hey, you know what?

Hey, I got $50. Here.

Fifty dollars?

You took everything!

Mommy?

I'm coming, I'm coming!

- He doesn't have it.

- Hasn't got what?

I have it. He doesn't

have the impenetrable cloak!

Lara, stay outta the street!

- It's okay, Daddy.

- What-- What?

I'll protect you.

It's okay. Daddy's okay.

It's a really good cloak.

I sent her out for groceries,

and that was two hours ago, Carol.

Well, you are one to talk.

You go through, like,

six housekeepers a year?

I'm not snapping at you!

I am angry.

Yes! At them! Yes!

At them, the police,

at Rick, at Maria,

at the dry cleaners who destroyed

another blouse today,

at the gardener who keeps

overwatering the lawn.

I...

I just thought that...

Carol, I just thought that

I would wake up today

and I would feel better, you know?

But I was still mad.

And I realized--

I realized that it had nothing

to do with my car being stolen.

I wake up like this

every morning!

I am angry all the time,

and I don't know why.

Carol, I don't know why! And l...

Yeah, yeah, call me back.

Bye.

Really appreciate this.

You're welcome.

So how long you been out there tonight?

It's cold.

Hour maybe.

Big surprise, huh?

Yeah, this ain't exactly

"pick up a brother" territory.

True.

So where you headed?

Anywhere the other side

of the hill.

That's some good music.

Mm-hmm.

No, really.

I'm startin' to understand it.

Wrote me a country song

myself just yesterday.

I'll bet you did.

So what was goin' on

in the Valley tonight?

Ice-skatin'.

Ice-skatin'.

Love the ice-skatin'.

When I was a kid,

I always wanted to be a goalie.

Come on!

What, you-- you think

that's funny or somethin'?

I think you're having fun.

Yeah. Whatever.

Something else funny?

Oh, yeah.

Yeah? What's that?

People, man. People.

People like me.

No, no, no, no.

I'm not laughin' at you, man.

I can see that.

- Why don't you laugh outside?

- Why are you gettin' all bent outta shape?

I'm not gettin' bent, man.

Just pulling over.

Come on, man, keep drivin'.

I said I'm not laughing at you.

And I'm not telling you

to get the fuck out of my car.

Why you bein' a fucking jerk?

Just drive the car.

I've got a better idea.

Get out now.

Fine. You want me

to show you? I'll show you.

Get your hands out of your pocket.

Put your hands where I can see 'em.

- Who the fuck you think you're talkin' to?

- Put your hands where I can see!

You wanna see what's in my hands?

I'll show you what's in my fuckin' hands!

Oh, God.

Thank you, Brother Merle.

That Was Merle Haggard on KYHA.

The scene of country music

here in L.A.

It's a cold night,

and it's getting colder.

We're giving out tickets to the rodeo coming

to the Fairplex in Pomona.

- Hey, you okay?

- I'm freezin'.

Shit. I heard it might snow.

- Get outta here.

- That's what I heard.

- You got a smoke?

- Nah. I quit.

Yeah, me too.

- What do you got?

- Dead kid.

Hey, Bob.

Choi Jin Gui! Choi Jin Gui!

- Choi Jin Gui! Choi Jin Gui!

- Do you speak English?

I am speaking English, you stupid cow!

My husband name Choi Jin Gui!

- Jin Gui!

- Ma'am!

Kim Lee.

I thought you were dead.

I called every hospital.

It's okay. I'm okay.

Thank you for finding me.

- Will you do something for me?

- Anything.

Go to the locker.

No, next one.

In my wallet, there's a check.

Bring it here.

Oh, I get it. When I said get me

a black Lincoln Navigator,

you thought I said get me

a white piece of shit panel van.

- Fine, fine. Just give me whatever for it.

- You should see this.

I'll take the van.

They're chained to the van.

So I'll take them too.

You wanna buy these Chinamen?

Don't be ignorant.

They're Thai or Cambodian.

Entirely different kind of chinks.

- What the hell are you gonna do with 'em?

- Sell 'em. What you think?

I'll give you 500 apiece,

and you can keep the van.

Oh, no!

No! No!

This is Dorri.

Oh.

Oh. Mmm, mmm, mmm.

My baby. My poor baby!

Mom.

I promise you... I promise I'm gonna

find out who did this, Mom.

Oh, I already know.

You did.

I asked you to find your brother,

but you were busy.

We weren't much good

to you anymore, were we?

You got things to do. You go ahead.

I'll sign the papers.

I wanna stay.

I just wanna wait

with my baby.

He came home.

Did you know that?

My little boy.

When I was sleepin',

he brought me groceries.

It's the last thing he did.

What happened?

What did you do?

What did you do?

I shoot a little girl.

What?

No, she's okay. She's--

She's-- Here.

The gun shoot her,

but she's okay, Dorri.

Nothing happened.

She's my--

What are you

talking about, Daddy?

My angel.

My angel!

She came to protect me.

To protect us!

You understand?

Take this. Please.

Take it.

Hey! Hey!

Everything is okay, Dorri.

It's okay.

Okay, Daddy.

Okay.

Jean?

- Rick?

- Yeah. What's wrong.

I fell down the stairs.

- Are you all right?

- I tried calling you.

I couldn't get through

to anyone. Not--

Not Kath, not Marge, not Julie.

I'm getting in the elevator. I'll be in my car.

I'll be home in 20 minutes.

It's okay. Maria drove me to emergency.

It's just a bad sprain.

Carol was the only one

that was home and

she said she couldn't come get me because

she was getting a massage.

That's because she's a bitch.

She's been my friend for ten years.

All right, honey.

Feel better.

I'll be there soon.

I love you.

I love you too.

Miss Jean.

Would you like to sit up?

Here. Good!

Do you wanna hear

something funny?

What, Mrs. Jean?

You're the best friend I've got.

Hi.

Hi.

I love you.

All right.

Everybody out, man.

You're free to go.

All right, come on.

Come on now! This is America.

Time is money. Chop, chop!

Come on, y'all.

Come on.

That's $40.

Buy everybody chop suey.

You understand?

Dopey fucking Chinaman.

Aah! Oh, my God!

What the hell is wrong with you?

Uh-uh! Don't talk to me

unless you speak American!