Gangster Squad (2013) - full transcript

It's 1949 Los Angeles, and gangster Mickey Cohen has moved in, with the intention of controlling all criminal activity in the city. He has bought local judges and police, and no one is willing to cross him or testify against him. Everyone except Sergeant John O'Mara, a former World War II soldier, whose goal is to settle with his family in a peaceful Los Angeles. Police Chief William Parker decides to form a special unit whose mission is to take down Cohen, and chooses O'Mara to lead the unit. O'Mara chooses 4 cops and asks another cop and vet, Jerry Wooters to join him but Wooters is not interested. But when he witnesses the murder of a young boy by Cohen's people, he joins them, and they decide to take apart Cohen's organization. Cohen wonders if a rival is going after him, but eventually he realizes it's the cops.

Every man carries a badge.

Some symbol of his allegiance.

His were the scars of a boxer who'd used

his fists to climb the social ladder of the mob.

A Jew who'd gained the respect of wops

through a homicidal lust.

He'd sworn an oath of violence.

And his master?

His own insatiable will to power.

He wanted to own this town.

His name is Mickey Cohen.

On my badge is the

city of Los Angeles.

I came back from the war

and I didn 't even recognize it.

Brothels, vice,

blood in the streets.

Cohen is building his empire.

"The children of the night.

What music they make."

It's the damnedest thing, Russo.

I come up here so many times...

...they see me,

they know they're getting a treat.

What's the matter with you? You think they're

not gonna hear about this in Chicago?

Oh, I'll make sure they do.

You're certifiable, Mickey.

You belong in a booby hatch,

eating pudding in your goddamn pajamas.

A minute ago,

you were begging.

That's when I thought you were a man.

But you're something else.

You're rotten.

Aah!

What about now, Tommy?

You impressed?

Argh! You prick bastard.

-Okay, boys.

-You sick son of a bitch.

Let her rip!

Aah!

Oh, my. Heh, heh.

Now, you go back to Chicago...

...you tell them what

you saw here tonight.

You tell them that Los Angeles

belongs to Mickey Cohen.

Fighting the war had taught me...

...the only thing necessary for the triumph

of evil is for good men to do nothing.

People are scared.

They say leave it alone.

Excuse me, miss?

Anyone ever tell you you look like

Lauren Bacall?

No.

But Cohen isn't

the only fighter.

And I'm ready to

step in the ring.

Son of a bitch didn't waste any time,

did he?

Today's your lucky day.

We're holding auditions.

-Really?

-Let's go.

-This is it.

-Ooh, wow.

This is wonderful.

Thank you. I can't wait to let

my folks know about this.

They're gonna be

real proud of you.

You know, this is where

Bacall first met Bogart.

What the hell are you doing?

What's it look like? He's gonna

give her a bad time in there.

O'Mara, for chrissakes, that's Cohen's

place. Nobody goes in there.

I don't want any part of this.

Go get an ice cream.

Right this way.

You know, we hold all our screen tests

up here, kiddo.

Away from the crowds.

Come on.

-Help you with something, pal?

-Looking to meet someone.

Yeah? What's her name?

I don't know, I thought maybe you

could help me out with that.

-No, mister. It's okay, really.

-Get in the goddamn room.

-Look at what Daddy found.

-Nice.

I tell you I was partial to blonds?

Yeah, yeah, yeah. All right, big guy.

Pistola, butt-first.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. You're a cop?

Christ, buddy. What are you,

soft in the head?

Please! Let me go! Please! Aah!

Aah!

-Break her, boys.

-Let me go!

No! No! Stop it, please! Don't!

Please! Please!

-Help!

-Shh. Shh.

You make another sound

and you're dead.

Who is it?

Mitts in the air!

Come on!

I don't think so.

-Ten bucks says this guy ain't

even heeled. -I'll take that bet.

Why don't you come over here

and find out. Come on.

Bang.

Help! Somebody!

Please help me!

Welcome to Los Angeles, ma'am.

Patty, it was the strangest thing.

I arrested Whalen, next thing you know,

lickety-split, he escapes.

Oh, really? He overpowered you again?

-No.

-He just slipped his cuffs?

He sure did.

It was the damnedest thing.

Keep moving.

What happened to you this time?

He resisted.

Oh, yeah?

What happened to them?

They resisted.

You're working too hard.

Boys.

O'Mara! Get your

Irish ass in here!

Weren't you told to stay away

from Cohen's turf?

I was.

Hendricks told me you walked in there

without a warrant.

-These three are gonna walk.

-Says who?

Says Judge Carter.

Habeas corpus.

Well, that's fast work.

I didn't know any better, I'd think

someone here stiffed in a call.

Listen to me, we got rules

around here, smartass.

Do yourself a favor: Learn them.

Is that how you got that new Packard

out there in the parking lot?

Following the rules, boss?

Two things you can't take back

on this job, kid:

Bullets out of your gun

and words out of your mouth.

That it?

Get out.

Karl Lockwood.

That's Mickey's bodyguard.

I'm sure I'm not the first person

to tell you this...

...but don't feed or

tease the animals.

Doesn't it bother you?

No.

Not for a long time.

Okay, stay out of trouble.

Connie, look--

-Baby, you promised me.

-I know.

You stood right where you're standing

now and you promised me.

I know.

I didn't go looking for it.

Scout's honor.

John, you go looking for it every time

you leave the house.

What happened this time?

Oh, it was just some pimp.

He was gonna put the hurt on this poor

girl who didn't know any better.

She looked a little like you.

I mean, not nearly as pretty, but--

Smooth talk isn't your line, sarge.

Look, I don't mind living like

Ma and Pa Kettle.

I don't need a new pair

of shoes every week.

I married an honest cop.

You're kind, you don't talk too much,

you're a demon in the sack.

But I don't need a hero, sarge,

I need a husband.

So you do not have permission

to go belly-flop on a grenade.

Not when we're expecting company.

Do you read me?

Yeah.

Whores don't grow on trees.

They're like mustangs.

You gotta catch them wild...

...and break them before you

train them to do tricks.

Means I need a quiet place where

I can keep the girls locked up.

Keep them hopped up

on Mexican dope.

Watch your jacket,

it's filthy here.

But this cop comes out of nowhere

like an early frost.

And now my whole crop of cunt

is ruined.

Mr. Cohen, I swear to God--

You're talking to God, Mitch,

so you might as well swear to me.

I swear, if it hadn't been for that cop,

this would have never happened.

You think I'm sore about that cop?

Hell no.

He's a square Joe, the guy.

Rescues a damsel in distress.

Goddamn hero is what he is.

They should put a medal on him.

We're gonna have to find a whole

new place. Start over again.

It's like they say:

"All good things must one day be burnt

to the ground for the insurance money."

Mr. Cohen, thank you so much.

I swear it won't ever happen again.

I know it won't, kid.

Whoa. Karl, what are you doing?

Let us out of here!

Hey!

Hey, Jerry.

Want a shine?

Hey, Pete, you want a shiner?

Go to bed.

Come on, I'm a working

man just like you.

How many times I gotta tell you?

When it gets dark, go home.

I'd love to, but I gotta make just

one more buck before I can get out of here.

-If I give you a dollar,

will you go home? -Yeah.

-Do you promise?

-I promise.

Beat it.

Shine? Want a shine?

Go ahead, detective.

-Hey, sugar.

-Hey, Jerry.

# Here comes Mr.

Five By Five

Ladies.

# Solid avoirdupois

# Mr. Five By Five

# He's 5 feet tall and

he's 5 feet wide

# He don't measure no

more from head to toe

# Than he do from side to side

# Mr. Five By Five

Jack. Fancy seeing you here.

Fancy that.

You look sharp.

-Take a pew.

-Yeah, okay.

How's it going, pal?

You got a steak ? la carte back there

with your name on it.

You're a peach.

Figure you must be starving.

You haven't picked a winner in what,

six weeks?

-Five. -My boss can

help you out with that.

You know we fix the damn races, right?

All you gotta do is ask me.

First, Jack, you're not allowed

to tell me that.

Second of all, you know I have

a warrant for your arrest, right?

-So, what's the charge?

-Usury.

What the hell is usury?

Loansharking.

Do you want me to pull it out?

-It's in my pocket.

-Keep it in your pants.

-I can read it and tell you exactly

what it's for. -It's fine.

-Jerry, can you listen to me for

a second? -Yeah, I'm listening.

-Cohen's on the warpath.

-Warpath?

Looks like he's on the

"give me some more" path.

-Just keep your eyes on the players, Jerry.

-Hard to know the players without the playbill.

Okay.

Up top you got the killer.

Wrevock's his name.

And down below,

the Honorable Judge Carter.

Max Solomon, Cohen's lawyer.

And Burbank Police Chief

Elmer Jackson.

On this side of the table,

one Eugene W. Biscailuz...

...the high sheriff of

Los Angeles County.

Who's the tomato?

That's Grace Faraday,

Cohen's etiquette tutor.

-Is that right?

-He's getting all sophisticated.

-Oh, must be nice.

-What's that?

I haven't been sophisticated

in weeks.

And it's not for lack of trying.

Roast peacock.

Romans couldn't get enough

of this stuff. The guys had class.

It's the other fork, darling.

Tonight...

...we're celebrating the birth

of a new city...

...built right here on the ruins of

Los Angeles.

-Congratulations, Mickey.

-Hear, hear.

-Cheers.

-Hear, hear.

I think I'll just have a cigarette.

Don't worry about it.

It's done.

Don't even think about it, Jerry.

The penalty for poaching

the king's deer in this town...

...is still a permanent vacation

in a pine box.

Well, you gotta die of something.

Will you excuse me?

Thanks.

Sure.

I'm Jerry.

Say, Jerry, I bet you got a ducky

war story behind that lighter.

Yeah, sure, I got stories.

-Hey, Mac, can I get a

Dirty Shirley? -Coming up.

I got shot down once

over the Pacific.

I spent the night hanging on to the wing of the

plane, sharks bumping my legs in the dark.

Are you weak in the knees yet?

Sure, I am.

Let's see. You're not quite big enough

to be a shylock.

I give up.

What's your racket, handsome?

Mostly I just like to play games.

I bet.

What kind of games?

I like to play Post Office.

Post Office?

It's a kid's game.

Not the way I play it.

But my racket is I'm a Bible salesman.

You wanna take me away from all this

and make an honest woman out of me?

No, ma'am.

I was just hoping to take you to bed.

Chief! Chief, what do you think about

those girls locked up at the Croesus?

Rumor has it that was

Mickey Cohen's place.

When you gonna do something

about Cohen?

-Chief has no comment.

-Hey.

Well, who's running

this town, then?

Who took it down?

John O'Mara. Homicide.

Just one man did that?

Yes, sir.

Sergeant O'Mara, Daryl Gates.

Who the hell is Daryl Gates?

The chief's driver.

He'd like a word with you, sergeant.

Officer Gates, kill the fatted calf,

will you?

I've found my prodigal son.

Two Purple Hearts.

Silver Star.

Trained at Camp X?

I never heard of Camp X, sir.

Of course not.

But you are skilled in guerilla warfare.

All due respect, sir,

may I ask why I'm here?

Would you please have a seat,

sergeant?

I want to talk to you about the war...

...for the soul of Los Angeles.

You see, our forbearers fought

savage Indians and Mexican bandits...

...to win Los Angeles.

And now, we're losing her to an

Eastern crook.

No one will testify.

They know it's suicide.

This isn't a crime wave.

It's enemy occupation, and you've

fought in occupied territory before.

I have.

I need you to do it again.

To wage guerilla war against

Mickey Cohen.

We're finally going after him.

I'll need men.

Recruit them.

And keep it quiet.

You're off the books.

You are to make no arrests.

-You want me to kill him?

-No.

With Cohen dead...

...his empire would only attract

others of his kind.

I want you to shatter

his operations...

...destroy his establishments...

...and drive that bastard

out of this city.

Yes, sir.

What are those?

I'm supposed to recruit a few guys

for this new outfit.

Oh, yeah?

What kind of outfit?

A small squad.

Five, maybe six guys.

What kind of outfit?

We're going after Mickey Cohen.

Oh.

Oh, Connie, Jesus.

We moved out here, you said we'd found

paradise, remember?

Wind was right, you could smell

the ocean right through that window.

That's exactly what kept me going when

I was over there, was raising a family here.

You can't ask me to just hand it

all over to Mickey Cohen.

Mickey Cohen can have L.A., John.

As far as I'm concerned,

he's welcome to the whole lousy town.

He just can't have you.

Sweetheart, look.

The war is over.

Stop fighting.

Come back to me.

I'm trying.

I need your help.

Hey, come here for a second,

I want to ask you something.

Well, you see, the thing is--

I bet you say that to all the girls.

I don't--

--know what you're talking about.

Where have you been

all my miserable life...

...Jerry the Bible salesman?

Drinking.

That's a noble profession.

He'll kill you if he finds out,

you know.

Who?

Mickey.

Mickey Mouse?

What are you doing

with that knucklehead, anyway?

Doesn't really seem like your type.

I'm his type.

That's what matters.

You are something else,

you know that?

Yeah.

Top of his class. Top of his class.

This one made detective before his

30th birthday.

If I'm Cohen, these are the cops

I'm gonna buy.

They'll be lieutenants in a few years.

So I should just find other bums

like me?

I'm just saying that you shouldn't be

looking at choir boys for this.

I'm putting a squad together.

-I need an lndian guide who

knows the territory. -Oh.

I wish I could help. I'm just in the middle

of a very important case, so I can't.

Who's the lucky winner this time?

Mm.

Well, good luck.

That's all you got?

Sarge, the whole town's

underwater...

...and you're grabbing a bucket when you

should grab a bathing suit, you know?

Come on, Jerry,

what the hell happened to you?

Hey...

...same thing that happened

to you, pal.

But the war's over and we

don't have to fight anymore.

You're not gonna change anything

around here, sarge.

You're just gonna wake up one morning

on the wrong side of the grass.

For what?

If you can't answer that question,

take off the badge.

Drink up.

Okay, but only because it sounded

like an order.

How about this guy? They call him

The Sheriff of Central Avenue.

Coleman Harris.

Excessive force and

insubordination.

Sounds like a man

after your own dear heart.

Aah!

It's okay, Del.

-Now, don't wiggle it.

-Unh!

Be best you pull it straight out.

Lieutenant. Sergeant John O'Mara.

Can I buy you a drink?

Well, seeing as though

I'm still on duty...

...you better buy me two.

Damn heroin, eating Central Avenue

down to the bone.

I lost my niece to it a year ago.

I'm the only law that there is down here.

What would you say if

I took you upriver?

All the way to the headwaters.

No more pushers.

Plug it up right at the source.

-Sarge.

-What is that?

Look.

What?

-Oh, no.

-Why not?

No, you can't just pull some guy

out of a magazine like he's a decoder ring.

You can't do that.

Sarge, Max Kennard has shot more crooks

than any L.A. cop in the last hundred years.

Sooner or later, there's gonna be gunplay,

and I want Kennard with you when it happens.

Max Kennard.

Mind if I join you?

All right.

Navidad Ramirez.

"Christmas" Ramirez?

It's all right if you're

a burlesque dancer...

...but I keep on telling him

it's no kind of name for a lawman.

Mind if I talk with you for a minute?

Go on, Navidad. Get some air.

That kid's not gonna last long

riding with you.

Hell, nobody'll work with him

on account of his heritage.

I'm going after Mickey Cohen.

And I need a gun hand.

Wouldn't you know it?

I just happen to have one.

-There it is. Good as new.

-Thanks, Dad.

Yeah, don't crash.

Conwell Keeler?

Can I help you with something, fella?

You need someone with brains

to balance the brawn.

He was Army lntelligence.

Got demoted for not understanding

the need for a warrant.

Rocketdyne's test firing their new

missile up in Santa Susana.

It's supposed to be

faster than the V-2.

-Thank you, ma'am.

-Thank you, baby.

You don't know what the V-2 is,

that's okay. This one's faster.

I heard you were the best wire man

in the department.

Oh, yeah? Thank you.

Look, these other guys I've been asking,

none of them have families.

So you wanna think this over?

-Dad! It's the rocket!

-Oh.

Come on, hurry!

Wow. Isn't she a beaut?

Look, Dad.

Yeah.

It's pretty great, right?

You know, this...

...a brighter future...

...this is what we fought for,

isn't it?

Damn right.

He grows up...

...I don't wanna tell him that I just stood by

while Mickey Cohen took it from us.

Mr. Cohen, right this way.

Mr. Cohen, how's the haberdashery

business these days?

-Booming.

-Ha, ha, ha.

Mr. Cohen. What do you

think about Chief Parker?

-Who?

-Ha, ha, ha.

So nobody's heard from Tommy Russo in

a while. Any idea what's happened to him?

Tommy went to live

on a big farm...

...where he's got lots of room to run and

play with all the other Chicago gangsters.

You want, I'll take you out there

to visit him sometime.

-Hi, Jack.

-Mickey.

You know Red.

I think I'll go bend my elbow

while you boys bend your ears.

Pair of Jacks. It's not a

two-of-a-kind night, kid. Scram.

I'll be at the bar.

Scotch.

-Grace.

-Jack.

Say, kid...

...why don't you cut Jerry loose

before he gets hurt.

-Jerry's a big boy, Jack.

-Hm.

-Trust me.

-Yeah.

He'll make a big stain on the sidewalk

if Cohen finds out about you two.

He's my friend, Grace.

I've known him all my life.

He's a sheep in wolf's clothing.

He's got a smart mouth...

...but he's dumb where it counts.

What you did to Russo,

that was a disgrace, Mickey.

The man rode on a train out from Chicago

to sit with you in good faith.

I don't get you.

You have the world

by the ass out here.

You got all the prestige, the purse,

the pussy any man could ask for...

...and you go and you poke Chicago

in the eye.

Why?

More.

I want more, Jack.

You wanna weep over Tommy Russo, fine,

we can drink to Tommy.

He was a guy who died

building a railroad...

...and I'm sorry he won't be out here

when I drive in the golden spike.

But what happened to

Tommy is nothing.

That wasn't murder.

It was progress.

I am progress.

You know what kills me...

...is you think you're something new.

I've seen guys like you before.

The Mojave is filled with them.

Bright boys that wanna shoot their way

to the top of the class. Ha.

You think I lack vision.

It's the other way around.

Matter of fact, I'm having

a vision right now.

You are gonna wake up one morning with

your best part stuffed into your mouth.

I'm sorry, did you say something?

I was kidding.

I heard you, Jack,

you're a funny guy.

And I'm not gonna carry water

for you anymore.

You dumb kike.

You're old, you're slow.

I've outgrown you.

I might be getting old,

I might be getting slow...

...but I got friends in Chicago

that are neither.

This isn't Chicago.

This is the Wild fucking West.

And I've been reading about it.

You heard of Manifest Destiny? That's when

you take what you can when you can.

The greasers took it from the redskins

and we took it from them.

And I'm gonna take it all from you, Jack,

and not just because I can.

But because this is my destiny.

Los Angeles is my fucking destiny,

you motherfucker.

When we succeed, nobody will

ever know what we've done.

No medals, no promotion.

But I'm here to tell you, there's death

in it waiting for the man who hesitates.

Right now, our only advantage is that

he won't know who we are.

So I have only one rule in this outfit.

Leave these at home.

We're not solving a case here.

We're going to war.

That sounds good to me.

Take it easy. No, I'm on your side.

Who the fuck is this guy?

He's a huge pain in my ass

is what he is.

He followed you here?

Real nice, Hopalong.

Yeah, but he's heard everything.

Yeah, I know your plan.

That's what I just said.

I want in.

Do you think you're good enough?

I got the drop on you, didn't l?

Push comes to shove...

...kid'll stay behind his gun.

It's your mess, cowboy.

When do we start?

Tonight. We're gonna hit his casino

across the river in Burbank.

# There's a guy in

our cowboy band

# He plays the best

bass in the land

# He plays it on and

off the beat

# He plays it hot and

he plays it sweet

We destroy the equipment,

burn the money.

We're in and out in 10 minutes and across

the river before they know what hit them.

-We gonna do it or talk

about it? -Let's go.

Hey, who are these guys, sarge?

Squaw need a new

pair of moccasins.

-Young brave need firewater!

-Ha, ha, ha.

Movie extras.

-Yay!

-Get down! Everybody down!

Get down! Do what we tell you

and no one gets hurt!

-Get down!

-We're here for the money!

-Kiss the ground!

-Oh, shit! They're cops!

-What?

-Yeah, who are they?

-Those aren't costumes!

-Put them down!

These sons of bitches

are guarding the place!

-I said put them down!

-Hey, fuck you!

Let's go!

Get out! Get out! Abort! Abort!

Dirty Burbank sons of bitches!

Let's go!

That was a stupid idea!

Shit!

Stay on them!

Hold it right there!

-It's not starting! You gotta push it!

-Take your foot off the brake!

Hurry, get in!

Go, go, go! Just go!

Hands in the air! Now!

Damn.

The shine had this on him.

You packing a pig-sticker, Bwana?

You must be out here

from Chicago...

...or maybe from goddamn Mars.

Because everybody down here

on planet Earth...

... knows that Mr. Cohen's place

is sacred ground.

Dragna put you up to this?

Go to hell.

You better believe I'm asking you

a whole lot nicer than Cohen's gonna.

Lock them up.

Hey, Jerry. How about a shine?

Oh, look, it's Pete.

No, it's Re-Pete.

Look at those shoes. It looks like they've

seen more steps than the Eiffel Tower.

I'll tell you what I'm gonna do. I'll make them

shine like the moon, Jerry. The moon.

Oh, yeah?

-Okay, Pete.

-All right, all right.

New York. It's like being

a rat in a maze.

Everybody living on

top of each other.

You wouldn't believe how goddamn

filthy the place is.

Whole goddamn place.

How's your mom?

How the hell should I know?

You should know how your mom is.

Heh. Okay.

Listen, I heard Cohen's making a move

on Dragna.

Is that right?

But out here...

...a guy's got room to be something

more than he was.

What do you know about

Cohen and Dragna?

I'm just saying to keep

your head down, that's all.

Keep my head down?

You keep your head down.

You're a kid.

Only thing you should be worried about is how

you're gonna get your hands up a girl's skirt.

-Heh. -That's what you

should be worried about.

The air's dry.

Clean.

You can taste it.

And that changes you.

Hey, Pete. Go home.

-I'm not even done yet.

-Go home right now.

-You hear me?

-Yeah, all right.

-Go.

-All right.

-Go now.

-Okay.

I love Los Angeles. I love it.

Jerry!

Hey. Hey.

You can't shoot me. You're a cop.

Not anymore.

Come on.

Get it together, Jerry.

What's the matter with you?

Stop it.

Whose blood is that,

Jerry? Huh?

You know that shoeshine kid?

-They killed him.

-I'm sorry about that.

You gotta screw your head on.

Somebody just hit Cohen's place

in Burbank.

They think it was Dragna's guys,

but I can tell you for a fact it wasn't.

Couple of strong-armed boys made like

to knock over Mickey's casino.

Burbank cops nabbed two of them.

Cohen's sending some

guys over there now.

Goddamn it, O'Mara,

you stupid son of a bitch.

I always knew I'd

die in Burbank.

They won't kill us here.

Cohen will send somebody to pick us up,

and then you'll wish they had.

-Watch the corridor, will you?

-All right.

Hey, fellas.

How's the food in there?

Sarge.

What the hell are you doing,

Hopalong?

This here is fixing to

be a jailbreak.

Supposed to be police officers.

It's like a three-ring circus.

-Help you with something, pal?

-Yeah.

Why don't you get off your fat ass

and get me my prisoners?

This is the dumbest thing

I've ever seen.

You're the one that got pinched

and I'm the dummy?

You got here awful quick.

Yeah, well,

Mr. Cohen was in a hurry.

Just one guy?

Yeah, don't worry about it.

I can handle these two.

With enough left over for you too, pal,

so just open it up.

Help you fellas?

Yeah, we're here to pick

up some garbage.

Two bags.

Oh, shit.

Hold it! That guy's bullshit!

Lights out.

Floor it, Navidad!

That didn't work.

Who's there?

Bwana's a Swahili word.

-Means "sir." Got it?

-Unh!

Yes, sir.

Come on, let's go, let's go.

Now, who the fuck

is this guy?

Jerry Wooters.

He's one of us.

I know it doesn't look

like much now.

But this is gonna be

my crown jewel.

Welcome to El Dorado Trust.

We're standing in the middle

of a money-making machine.

Makes me giddy.

We got all the whores

and dope sewn up.

But pari-mutuel wagering, bang.

Off-track betting, ba-bang.

That's where the real money is.

Have this place open in a few weeks.

After that, all the wire traffic west

of Chicago comes right through here.

Millions.

I couldn't make it any faster if I was

printing it myself.

What about the Syndicate?

That's the past. This is the future.

I'll buy them off with money we pull

out of this place alone.

Buy every politician from

here to Frisco.

Within a month, we'll have the whole

West Coast tied up in a nice ribbon.

Come on.

All right? Your turn.

You gonna break leather, Hopalong?

Or you just gonna watch us?

You were saying?

Get on up here, Navidad.

Sheesh.

You loaded?

Don't shoot where it is, son.

Shoot where it's gonna be.

They got Dragna.

They killed everybody in the house.

His wife. Killed the maid,

for chrissake.

Cohen must have thought what we did

to his casino was Dragna's guys.

This was payback.

It's war. People die.

I'm sorry, I can't believe you would

say something like that.

Sarge, I don't want any more

civilian casualties.

Then talk to Cohen.

I'd rather listen to him.

All we do is plant a bug and we can

hear everything he says.

One of the clubs?

No, his house.

It takes him three minutes

to get around the house. Go.

Hey, guys, do you want in on this?

-You owe me 10 bucks from last night.

-You always say that.

We're here to play cards.

-So five-card draw?

-Sounds good.

-What are you doing?

-Just looking at a picture.

Cohen's home. Get out now.

Get out.

Dessert, Mr. Cohen?

Oh, hot fudge sundae.

Let's taste that, yeah. Mm.

You're the best.

-I'm just gonna powder my nose.

-Whatever.

Shh.

Hey, Mickey. Anybody home?

Karl, I wanna take a look

at that property.

-That bakery down near Boyle Heights.

-You got it, Mickey.

-Hi.

-You heard anything?

Apparently, Johnny Stomp's

balling Lana Turner.

Sinatra sounds pretty sore about it.

Judge Carter is a world-class whoremonger

and Mickey takes good care of him.

Figures.

Those are the locations of some

of the books around town.

There must be a ton of them.

He's building something.

I don't know what it is yet.

Okay, well, we gotta find it.

No. Don't touch that.

Get some grub.

You got something to tell me,

Romeo?

It's nothing.

It didn't look like nothing.

What the hell is this?

Hey, guys, guys. I just heard

something about a heroin shipment. Shh.

-Let me hear. Let me hear.

-Here.

-I can't hear it, Con. Turn it up.

-Well, it's up all the way.

-I can't hear anything.

-I think they're leaving the room.

-Oh, come on.

-Yeah, they left the room.

Shit.

-Where. We need to know where.

-I don't know. I'll keep listening.

-I know a guy who can tell us.

-Who?

Old friend from the neighborhood.

Unh!

Cohen's got some medicine coming.

Where's he bringing it in?

I don't know! Aah!

-Don't lie to me, boy.

-Wait, wait!

Harris, they'll kill me.

Not if you leave town, they won't.

Now, start talking.

Burbank Airport, Friday night.

-You sure?

-Yes!

All right. Get your ass

out of here. Damn.

I can't believe we going

back to Burbank.

That stuff is Mickey's poison.

We shut it down, we take away

his best weapon.

Let me get that for you, sir.

We good?

All right, let's go.

Come on.

Let's just wait until they get over

the river into L.A.

I think we've worn out our welcome

with the Burbank P.D.

Forget it, let's take them now.

Looks like we picked up

a couple of ticks.

Let's burn them off the road.

Shit!

Oh, my God!

Everybody get down!

Hold on to your hats, boys!

Ah! Jesus Christ!

Take them out!

Ah!

You're giving them a clear shot!

-All right, that's it!

-Where the hell is he going?

Get out of the way!

What the hell's he doing?

Move over!

Where the hell did he go?

-You see him?

-No, sir!

Damn it, you see him?

Jesus!

Oh, shit!

What the hell is that?

Shit!

Jesus Christ!

John, back off! Back off!

Grenade! Shit!

Grab it!

Hit him harder!

All right, hang on.

Unh! Son of a bitch. No!

Okay.

Closer, Navidad!

Shit.

Let's go, hoss.

-Where do you want them?

-Right here.

Who the hell are you?

You don't know what you done, pal.

You think he's gonna laugh this off?

He will hunt you down.

-That's not your problem anymore.

You hear me? -Ah!

-Whoa, whoa, whoa. -You have their

wallets? What are their names?

Edgar Beaumont and Jeffrey Clark.

We know who you are.

You used to run dope for Mickey Cohen.

You're retired.

Let's get out of here.

You really wanna win this thing,

or you wanna die trying?

Don't get me wrong, I love shooting gangsters

in the legs just as much as the next guy.

But we're gonna have to be smarter

next time.

Playing hot potato with a grenade

isn't much of a strategy.

We got really lucky.

If we keep going head-on at him like this,

we're not gonna make it more than a week.

It worked, Jerry.

Get in the car.

Mr. Cohen, sir. I.... The, uh....

Someone hit the shipment.

I'm sorry.

Who hit the shipment?

Guineas from back East.

Maybe Russo's people.

-I don't know.

-Hm.

Maybe Russo's people.

Well....

These things happen.

-Tsk.

-Thank you, Mr. Cohen.

Karl.

You know the drill.

No! No! Karl, no!

Hey, Karl! No!

-I'm begging you!

-You stupid bastard.

This ain't right!

This ain't right! Aah!

# Fallin' for no one but you

# There's no use denying

# I might as well confess

-Come in.

-Mrs. O'Mara?

Please, Connie.

Jerry Wooters. Nice to meet you.

Nice to meet you too.

What'd you bring?

Bear claws.

Uh....

Congratulations.

I didn't....

Thank you. John

didn't tell you?

No, he didn't.

-Where is that guy?

-Out back.

Okay.

This little bird told

me when we marry

Jerry?

Yeah?

I know. What kind of a guy would take on

a job like this with his wife in my condition?

That kind of guy.

My husband's the bravest man I know

but he is not much for abstract thinking.

Honor and duty are

as real as I am.

So if it comes down to a choice

between his life and his duty--

You want me to push him

in the right direction?

-Can I shove him in the

right direction? -Heh.

That's why I picked you.

You seem sensible.

Well, that's a nice way to put it.

I handpicked all of you guys,

except the Mexican kid.

-I don't know where you found him.

-I don't know where he came from either.

Take that out?

John's a lucky guy, Connie.

Look, you know what?

You should get your

wife a Cadillac.

How's your love life these days?

Your wife deserves a Cadillac.

You're driving a Studebaker, you should

buy yourself a Cadillac. It's a nice car.

You don't get cars

like that too often.

You know, Jerry, one of these nights

she's just gonna get bored.

Scared.

Or he'll give her a rock and she'll

just roll on us in a fit of gratitude.

Or he'll just find out she's got

a new swain and that's not good.

With all due respect, sarge, you don't

know a goddamn thing about her.

Gentlemen.

I would congratulate you

on a job well done.

But then I was never here.

Cohen has already

organized a dragnet.

He has his people inside

the department...

...hunting for the gang

that hit his drug shipment.

It's only a matter of time until

he realizes you're cops.

We need to step up our timetable here,

sergeant.

We need to offer Cohen no quarter.

I'm not a quarter kind of guy, sir.

Neither am I.

Unh!

Get out!

Over there.

Telephones, wires. Hey, hey.

You are dead, pal. You are all dea--

Yeah, we get that a lot.

Find these bastards.

Kill them all.

Kill their families.

Their kids.

Their dogs. Their cats.

They're on the scent of

El Dorado Trust.

We cannot let that happen.

Do you understand me?

El Dorado Trust.

It's an A-bomb.

It's Mickey Cohen's pride and joy.

The whole reason he killed

Tommy Russo...

...was to take over his

Continental Wire service...

...which means Cohen's got the only wire

between here and Chicago.

He's building the central book

for the entire western United States.

Wait, what's the central book?

All gambling money on the West Coast

will go through a central book...

...and Mickey Cohen

will touch every penny.

If he gets that thing up and running,

inside a week it won't matter what we do.

It'll be growing faster than we can

tear it down.

He'll own the whole goddamn state.

Where is it?

I don't know.

They haven't said a thing.

Well, we gotta find it.

Yes, we do.

We don't have a lot

of time, Jerry.

I'm not gonna get her killed.

You gotta ask her.

Or I will.

You know, I ain't gotta

prove myself to you.

You asked me to be

here and I'm here.

I'm risking my life,

like every single guy in there.

But there's a line.

You go and talk to my girl...

...you put her in danger, you're gonna

cross that line with me, pal.

I'm not questioning

your loyalty, Jerry.

Don't go near her.

Just do what needs to be done.

You're going somewhere?

I gotta go.

You gotta do that in front of me?

You gotta make yourself pretty for him

in front of me?

-What's the matter?

-You got a lot of nerve.

What are we doing?

I can't figure out your angle.

What's your angle?

What were you doing in

his house, Jerry?

You don't wanna know that.

Why didn't you tell

me you're a cop?

I'm looking out for you.

-Trust me.

-No. I don't trust you.

He's gonna plant us both.

-That stirs you a little, doesn't it?

-Oh, yeah, that stirs me up.

-It does, Jerry, admit it.

-It stirs me right up.

Maybe that's why you're with him.

-You think that's why I'm with him?

-I don't know.

I came out here to be a star, Jerry.

I figured I couldn't lose.

I figured wrong, didn't I?

I'm open to suggestions.

Don't go.

Don't let me.

One-two. Ho-ho. Whoa.

This the one where you

break his jaw?

Hey, Claude Rains.

Come here,

I wanna show you something.

Hurt him. Yeah.

-This putz was trying to

steal my title. -Heh.

Story of my life.

Some bum's always trying to steal

what's mine.

You gotta dance.

Come on. Finish him.

Oh!

-Hey, Dad?

-Yeah?

Mom wants to know when you're gonna

put up the lights.

As soon as I'm done here.

Can you hand me those wire strippers?

Yeah.

-Here you go.

-Thank you.

Son, your dad's a genius.

Go tell your mom that.

So the first one's Pacific Telephone.

The second one's Western Union.

And that third one--

-Cohen's.

-That's right.

That's all there is to it?

Just cut the wire?

No. You cut the wire, they'd be out

here in an hour to repair it.

El Dorado Trust is the terminus

of the wire, right?

So all you gotta do is ping the wire and the

pulse echo will tell you how far away it is.

Why didn't I think of that?

Hey, keep an eye out.

What'll it be?

Remember 75.

And bingo.

You gotta be shitting me.

Am I the only one who thinks

this is fucking insane?

Because there's an alarm,

it goes right to Cohen.

It'll take me 10 minutes to find it

and disable it.

You got 5 then.

Shooting starts, sheriffs are gonna be

all over our asses.

You sure we can pull this off?

No.

Let's do it then.

-Hey.

-Hey.

-Hey.

-Howdy.

-Who are you guys?

-We're the band.

Unh!

Oh, shit.

-Keeler?

-All clear.

# Boom, chica,

boom-boom-boom-boom-boom

Aah!

All right, everybody,

time to go home! Out!

Ladies, go on and take

the rest of the night off.

Come on, ladies.

That means you. Get up.

Let's go, ladies. Come on.

We already took care of that.

# Ch-ch-chica, boom

# Chica, chica, boom, chica boom

Chica, boom-boom-boom

# Boom, chica,

boom-boom-boom

-Aah!

-Everybody out! Now!

Everybody out!

My, oh, my.

What the fuck happened

here, Eugene?

We don't know, Mr. Cohen.

Right now, I'm coordinating the--

"Coordinating"?

What's this coordinating?

Take the dog.

No, the deputy.

This how you take

care of business?

You motherfucker!

You will find the cocksuckers

that did this to me!

You will find them!

Drink. Come on.

-Look, look. Come on.

-Shut up.

Come on, you son of a-- Drink.

No, it's right here, man.

Drink it. Don't be scared,

don't be scared.

Our young Se?or Ramirez is drunker

than a peach orchard sow.

-Let me tap you.

-No, I'm good.

You sure?

It's not good right now.

Sarge, come here for a second.

-Come on, everybody. Get over here.

-Come on, sarge.

Sarge, come here.

To the sarge.

For bringing us all home safe.

You're a bull in a china shop, but we'd

follow you anywhere. To the sarge.

No, look, this victory

belongs to all of us.

You know, I've run with a lot of outfits,

but none better than you group of misfits.

Cheers.

-To the Gangster Squad.

-The Gangster Squad.

How much did they get away with?

Nothing.

Neddy says they didn't

take the money.

They're cops.

Chief Parker put them up to it.

I've had it with that sadistic,

Bible-thumping boozer.

He's done.

We never had that kind

of trouble before.

Trust me, Karl.

I've bought myself enough cops.

I know what I'm talking about.

These guys are a special brand.

They're hard cases,

not interested in money.

A cop that's not for sale

is like a dog with rabies.

There's no medicine for it,

you just gotta...

...put him down.

Heh.

Somebody peached to them.

Somebody up and turned rat on me!

There's ears in this fucking house!

Find them!

The slut cluck bitches!

Come on. We need to get you out of here

before he runs out of pretty things to break.

Now, you don't ever need to come

back here, Miss Grace. Not ever.

Wrevock's gonna pick up the

shipment tonight in Chinatown.

Use the laundry truck.

No, wait, you gotta hear this.

You don't make this deal,

we're finished, you hear me? Done.

That hit on Slapsy's is still killing us.

Wrevock's gonna pick up the shipment

tonight in Chinatown.

Use the laundry truck. Don't fuck it up.

I need this.

We hurt him.

He is bleeding cash. Desperate enough

to do this out in the open.

We intercept that dope,

he is dead in the water.

You know, I signed up for this...

...ahem...

...so that I could tell my boy that I

at least tried to do something about it.

But I hope he never finds out about

all the things we've done.

Con, we did what we had to do.

Can you remind me of the difference

between us and them?

Because at this point,

I can't tell anymore.

You want to find a witness to sign

their own death warrant?

Con, look, this is the only way

we can beat him. The only way.

Okay.

All right, look,

I need you on the wire tonight.

-Okay?

-Oh, no.

In case Cohen has a change of plan.

It's all right, Con.

You sit this one out. We can handle it.

All right?

Okay.

Hey.

You wanted to talk to me?

He thinks somebody ratted.

He what?

-It's a matter of time before he gets to me.

-What are you doing here?

-I gotta get out of town. You should too.

-I can't. Gracie, look, for whatever it's worth....

Look, for whatever it's worth, Cohen had

nothing to do with us. Not for one second.

Don't run. Just stay.

Can I help you fellas?

-We'll get to you in a minute.

-We wanna talk to her, is all.

Hey, we got a message from Mr. Cohen.

It just seems like the lady

doesn't want to talk to you.

What lady? She's just one of Mickey's

pro skirts, there, pal.

Where is it?

-Where is it?

-It's over there!

-Ah-ah-ah. No, no, no.

-What is that?

Is that your message for her?

Is that acid?

-Oh, come on. -I ever see you

near her again, I'll kill you.

-Okay.

-Good.

Damn it!

Fuck!

You're gonna get yours! Aah! Aah!

O'MARA: We know Cohen's sending

Wrevock here to meet the shipment.

Maintain surveillance until he reaches

the target location.

He's gonna lead us right to the dope.

We get this shipment, it's over.

No more business.

A lot of civilians, this goes south.

Let's make sure that doesn't happen.

Come on.

-Where's Wooters?

-Wasn't my turn to watch him.

We're ready to go

now for round 9...

...of the scheduled 15-round

lightweight championship...

...in the Olympic Auditorium,

Los Angeles, California.

Jerry. Grace.

Come on in.

Come on, quick.

I gotta ask you a favor.

I need you to get Gracie

out of town tonight.

Yeah.

I can do that.

Thank you.

I gotta go.

Are you guys sisters?

We can be.

-Wait here in case he doubles back.

-Got it.

-Jesus Christ, Wooters.

-Where the fuck were you?

Where's John?

John!

John! John!

John, look out!

-You okay?

-Yeah, I'm all right.

Fuck!

Oh, Jesus.

Keeler.

I was 9 years old when I robbed the

Palace Theater with a baseball bat.

Cashier was laughing.

Till I bashed his head in.

Knocking the place over,

that wasn't the hard part.

A 9-year-old kid with a cash box...

...trying to get from Broadway

all the way to Boyle Heights?

Every block, I must have fought five,

six kids for that box.

But I wouldn't let it go. I wouldn't

let anybody take it away from me.

But you know who finally

got that box?

A cop.

A dirty cop.

An eavesdropping fucking cop.

That bug's a nifty piece of work.

Limited range, though.

I'm not angry. That's done.

This is business.

Don't you worry, Grace.

I'll get you out of town safe.

I don't want out of town, Jack.

I want out of this life.

Jack. Ha, ha, ha.

-You stay here.

-Jack.

Where is she, Jack?

Where's that gorgeous

red snatch?

She's not here, Mickey.

Did you bring your trouble boys

just to see Grace?

You expecting some trouble, Mickey?

You looking for some?

My dog, Mickey, Jr...

...he shits more trouble

than you're gonna give me.

We'll see about that, huh?

Make it good, boys, huh?

You? You?

Come here.

You're up next,

you little creep.

I've been saving something special

for you, Mickey.

My boxing days are over, Jack.

Come on, Mickey. Unh!

-Does that hurt?

-Fuck you, Mickey.

Argh!

John.

-Damn it, John, don't do this.

-Stay out of it, Jerry.

Just listen to me.

You goddamn suicidal son of a bitch.

You want to hit something, you hit me.

-Get out of my way!

-You want to hit something, hit--

Mickey!

Cohen!

Come on!

Well, sarge...

...this is where I get off.

The papers are calling

for my resignation.

And the mayor, I'm afraid,

is calling for your head.

I will likely be replaced by someone

more amenable to Cohen.

And you, sergeant,

you'll be relieved of your duty.

Your career with the Los Angeles

Police Department is over.

As for your comrades--

They were following my orders, sir.

Blame rests solely with me.

You've served with distinction.

I'm sorry, John.

He won.

-Here, come here.

-No.

It's okay, it's okay. It's okay.

If I leave, Keeler

died for nothing.

Is that what you want me to tell our son

when he asks about his father?

Connie!

The war taught us how to fight.

And, God knows, it was worth it.

But now it's all I know how to do.

I don't know how to live.

I just know how to fight.

Might as well be Mickey Cohen.

You're a good man, John.

You might even be a fucking angel.

Either way you're a hero.

You lose everything and

you win the war...

...you're a hero.

You lose everything and

you lose the war...

...you're just a fool.

I've been looking for

you everywhere.

Gracie.

-I heard about Jack and I

just thought.... -I know.

Jack saved my life.

He fought like hell.

What are you doing here?

I saw Cohen kill him.

Well, that's all the more reason

for you to get out of here.

No, I'm a witness.

-Gracie. Listen to me--

-I'm a witness.

I'm your witness, Jerry.

Gracie.

Let me.

Excuse me. Do I know you?

Need a favor, judge.

See, we've been bugging Cohen's house

for a while now.

Which I understand is illegal

and inadmissible in court.

But we don't think the papers

are gonna be so choosy.

Mickey's boys get pinched, you cut

them loose, he pays you in whores.

-That sound familiar?

-What do you want?

You're gonna retire, judge.

But before you do, just this once...

...you're gonna do something right.

Sign it.

Come on, sign it.

I hope you boys know

what you're getting into.

Where is he?

He's holed up at the

Park Plaza Hotel.

Rented out every room in the place

and it's a fortress.

You'll never get him out of there.

Tomorrow, they'll take my badge.

Tonight, I'm still a cop.

I have here an arrest warrant for

Mickey Cohen for the crime of murder.

I'm bringing him in.

Think I'll tag along

if you don't mind, sarge.

I got no plans tonight.

I'm in.

Let's finish it.

# Ole buttermilk sky

I'ma telling you why

# Now you know

Keep it in mind tonight

I just got off the phone with Judge Carter.

He says he signed the warrant himself.

Who's gonna serve it?

Five guys? Forget it.

They'll never get through the lobby.

-Beat it.

-Get inside.

Think I'll dance with the one

what brung me.

Mickey Cohen...

...this is Sergeant John O'Mara of the

Los Angeles Police Department.

We have a warrant for your arrest.

Come out quietly with your hands up

and you will not be harmed.

Mickey Cohen,

this is your final warning.

I like having only one fork.

You never make the wrong decision.

Fucking had it.

All right, Cohen, time's up!

We're coming in!

We got a better idea, coppers.

Why don't you take your guns...

...and shove them up your asses.

You call it, sarge.

Light them up!

Dirty stinking copper!

-Where you hiding?

-Clear!

Unh!

Cover me!

We gotta take out that gun!

Watch this, hoss!

I'm out!

Elmer's got a plane waiting in Burbank,

but we need to leave now, Mick.

Can I get my tie on?

Want my fucking tie straight,

I'm gonna go out there in fucking public.

You all right?

I'm all right.

-Hold on.

-Unh.

Go get that son of a bitch.

That you, O'Mara?

That's right, coward!

Come and get it, Cohen.

Here comes Santy Claus.

Get the car! Get the car!

Unh!

Harris, help me out!

Come on, let's go!

Come on! Drive faster!

Son of a bitch.

Aah!

Navidad, come over here

and help me aim.

Remember, not where

the son of a bitch is, goddamn it.

Where he's gonna be.

That's my boy.

Mickey Cohen...

...you're under arrest for the murder

of Jack Whalen.

All right, lawman, take me in.

Come on.

-Wanna dance?

-Yeah.

All right, come on.

You're an interrupter.

An interrupter of progress.

I'm progress, see?

Come on.

Get up! Get up!

Come on. Come on.

That's Mickey Cohen.

Take him away.

All right, let's go.

Every man carries a badge.

Mickey Cohen pledged allegiance

to his own power.

Violence was his

means and his end.

When he was sent to Alcatraz, friends of

Jack Whalen welcomed him with a lead pipe.

Parker stayed on as chief of police

until his death in 1966.

He got credit for Cohen's downfall.

No one ever spoke of

the Gangster Squad.

The reign of the gangster Mickey Cohen

in Los Angeles is at an end.

Parker deserved the praise.

In tough times, he'd kept his oath

to protect and serve...

...just like the thousands who walk

their beats every day.

Maybe without glory...

...but with pride and honor.

We brought Cohen in, but it was

Grace's testimony that put him away.

After the trial, she held on to Jerry

and wouldn't let go.

Jerry always threatened to leave

the force, but he never did.

I guess he couldn 't shake

the call of duty that echoed in his ears.

Every man carries a badge,

and this was mine.

But it was time

to put it away.

The mob has never had

a foothold in Los Angeles.

I'd like to think I played

a small role in that.

I may not be in the line of fire anymore,

but I still love my town.

It's not paradise...

...but it is the City of Angels.