Fargo (2014–…): Season 4, Episode 1 - Welcome to the Alternate Economy - full transcript
The head of an African American crime syndicate goes to war with the Italian mafia in Kansas City, Missouri during the 1950s
ETHELRIDA:
My history report,
by Ethelrida Pearl Smutny.
(door opens)
(door closes)
Frederick Douglass
once intoned,
"I stand before you
as a thief and a robber.
"I stole this head,
these limbs,
this body from my master,
and I ran off with them."
What'd you do this time?
I been maligned.
ETHELRIDA:
My point being,
the moment our feet
touched American soil,
we were already criminals.
Next.
ETHELRIDA:
But this report isn't about
my history.
It's about our history.
DRIVER:
Hyah! Hyah!
ETHELRIDA:
Kansas City, Missouri.
In the beginning
there were the Hebrews,
and they ran the underworld.
(indistinct chatter)
Then came the Irish.
♪ ♪
(spits)
(spits)
(stamping feet)
(clucks tongue)
To keep the peace,
the boss of each family
gave offer of his youngest son
in trade.
Relax, boychick.
ETHELRIDA:
The thinking was,
by raising
your enemy's offspring,
an understanding
could be reached.
‐There.
‐And peace maintained.
‐Put some hair on your bollocks.
‐(all chuckling)
(cheering)
(clapping)
(school bell ringing)
(sighs)
See, the problem wasn't
that I was disreputable.
What'd you do this time?
Punched Dolores Disfarmer
with my eye,
of course.
I was, in fact, a student
of exceptional virtue
and high achievement.
The problem was
the only thing worse
than a disreputable Negro
was an upstanding one.
I got it.
And so I endured
the slings and arrows
of small‐minded folk who,
in their narrow thoughts,
imagined they could
teach me a lesson.
(car horn honks)
‐(music playing)
‐(indistinct conversations)
‐Hey!
‐(men shouting)
WOMAN (screaming):
Oh, my God! Oh!
(shouting)
♪ ♪
Well done, boyo.
Bring the lad.
(grunts)
And now... my son.
Are you familiar
with the legend of Goldilocks?
Someone...
has been sittin' in your chair.
And someone has been eatin'
from your bowl.
And someone has been sleepin'
in your bed.
It's time...
...for bears
to be bears.
(chuckles)
Yeah.
(crying)
(whimpering)
Chew him up.
ETHELRIDA:
Logic dictates
that in every fight,
there is a winner and a loser.
But this is a history report.
And what does history tell us?
Peace don't last for long.
♪ ♪
(horn honks)
The Italians came next.
That's how it worked.
Whoever was last off the boat,
finding the doors
of honest capital closed,
rolled up their sleeves
and got to work,
getting rich
the old‐fashioned way.
(Yiddles spits)
(spits)
(stamping feet)
♪ ♪
(kisses)
ETHELRIDA:
Webster's defines
"assimilation" as...
"the process of becoming
similar to something."
You can check it if you want,
but it's factual.
But imbibing these words,
dear reader,
we are forced to ask,
similar to what?
TEACHER:
Have a seat, Ethelrida.
ETHELRIDA:
If America is a nation
of immigrants,
then how does one
become American?
I take your meaning
and applaud your intent,
but if it's all the same,
I believe I'm gonna
go ahead and stand.
♪ How'm I doin, hey, hey... ♪
‐(indistinct chatter)
‐And, you know, he lied so much,
they called
the son of a bitch "Two Face."
But you can't be too careful.
So, after I shot him between
the eyes I rolled him over
and shot him on the other side,
just to be certain.
‐(laughter)
‐Let it never be said...
(pounding on door)
It's the double cross.
Let me in,
I got to talk to my dad.
(Brahms' "Warum Ist Licht
Gegeben Den Muhseligen" playing)
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
You pig fuckers.
You sons of whores.
I'll murder the lot of you!
(Yiddles wheezing)
YIDDLES:
A curse on you...
ETHELRIDA:
Winston Churchill said,
"History is written
by the victors."
That's a fancy word for winner.
My folks have a system.
Dad does the white funerals.
Condolences.
Condolences.
Mom ministrates to the colored.
(organ playing)
What's this?
It's the Urbanski to‐do,
remember?
Should I go around back?
Dad?
Uh, no, no. Just...
It's winding down,
go on through to the kitchen.
(indistinct chatter)
(blowing nose)
Oh, oh, apologies.
What?
Oh, I‐I... I was simply
excusing myself.
I'm not normally
this out of sorts.
ETHELRIDA:
It's a funeral.
People cry at funerals.
Ah, amen.
Those are wise words
for a person of your complexion.
But, then I've noticed
your people
are often more in touch
with their spiritual
and emotional side.
My people?
(sniffs hard)
The Negro.
It's a Baptist fervor, I'd
wager, what causes them to hoot
and tumble to the floor,
aflush with the Holy Spirit.
Miss Mayflower,
I see you've met my daughter,
Ethelrida.
Your daughter?
THURMAN:
The one and only.
Ethelrida,
this is Miss Mayflower.
She's a nurse
at St. Bartholomew.
Oh, yeah.
Huh.
Yes, now I see it.
This child is certainly
the product of miscegenation.
Uh, if by that you mean
she's the spitting image
of her father, then I take
that as a compliment.
Your mother must be
quite dark‐skinned.
As I've‐I've noticed
in my study of the human animal
that in the combination
of the races,
it is de rigueur for the more
extreme coloration to prevail.
(sniffles)
I'm going to the kitchen.
It was very nice to meet you.
Lovely.
(laughs)
Well, I best be going.
ETHELRIDA: Here's the thing
about America:
the minute you relax
and fatten up...
(car horn honking)
...somebody hungrier's
gonna come along,
looking for a piece
of your pie.
♪ ♪
You come alone?
(whistles)
♪ ♪
(kisses)
♪ ♪
(spits)
Nah.
Relax.
♪ ♪
I just thought, being men,
we should do this like men.
(chuckling)
(Fadda men chuckling)
♪ ♪
LOY:
Well, all right, then.
DONATELLO:
Yeah, all right.
DOCTOR SENATOR:
You're sure about this?
You're the one
who said war was killing us.
But you remember
what happened to the Irish?
We had this back‐and‐forth
already.
They got the upper hand now,
but not for long.
So we play along or keep
cutting each other's throats.
He's your boy.
There's got to be
something less we can risk.
♪ ♪
(quietly):
Keep your head down.
If there's trouble,
swing for the balls,
then the eyes.
SATCHEL:
No!
No. No!
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
Learn everything.
Sleep with one eye open.
Be as Daniel in the lion's den.
I don't want to go.
Come on, kid.
Hey.
You want my advice ?
Be who you need to be,
don't forget who you are.
This is
Zirominu Guglielmo Fadda,
youngest son of Don Fadda.
Protect his life as your own.
Where you from‐‐
Dublin, Italy?
(chuckles)
ETHELRIDA:
And here's what
you need to know
about the people in that room.
None of them were white.
They were dagos,
Negroes, micks,
all fighting for the right
to have been created equal.
But equal to what?
And who gets to decide?
And that leads me to this
conclusory idea, dear reader,
which is that history
is made up of the actions
of individuals.
And yet, none of us can know
at the time we act
that we are making history.
Mama?
Go to your room.
‐But I...
‐I said go to your room.
♪ ♪
alling)
♪ ♪
LOY:
He behaving?
DONATELLO:
Boys are boys.
But he clean his plate.
He says "sir."
LOY:
We should talk
about the stockyards.
DONATELLO:
A done deal is done.
What could we say?
Well, we could talk
about how most of the labor
on the east side is colored now
and how that should
make it ours.
DONATELLO:
I own black clothes.
You saying those are yours, too?
(Omie speaking indistinctly)
So I give him a little uppercut,
keep him on his feet.
‐(chuckles)
‐So, right after...
Which one of you is Samuel?
Lemuel.
‐What?
‐My name is Lemuel.
It's in the Bible.
The Jew part
or the Catholic part?
Boy, you need
to get up out of here.
We're trying to have
a civilized conversation.
Do you know who I am?
Do you?
What?
You say "what" a lot.
What?
I think he's confused.
Boss.
It's a playground.
Come on.
(chuckles)
(clicking tongue)
Like I was saying...
Had to hit him
with a couple uppercuts.
Want to keep him on his feet.
LOY:
His mama needs
to see him.
DONATELLO:
Hmm.
We can arrange something
for the weekend.
Just the women.
You're acting
like I work for you.
We got an alliance.
And I know you think
part of being an American
is standing on my neck.
But I see the window signs.
"No coloreds, no Italians."
So we're both in the gutter
together, like it or not.
Now, I'm gonna
keep growing my business...
...and making sure
my people are safe.
You want to start
murdering children?
Last I checked,
you had more than me.
Calm down.
There's no anger here.
Just business.
Ah.
♪ Up and down this road I go ♪
♪ Skipping and a‐dodging
from a .44 ♪
♪ Up and down
this road I go... ♪
See you in the Bible.
That don't even make sense.
(speaks Italian)
♪ Jack the rabbit... ♪
Take the kid.
I got a meeting.
♪ Just one hair ♪
♪ Jack the rabbit ♪
♪ Jack the bear ♪
♪ Won't you light it ♪
♪ Just one hair ♪
♪ Up and down this road I go ♪
♪ Skipping and a‐dodging
from a .44. ♪
We should move on them already.
They don't respect you,
they don't respect the family.
You think they don't talk
about us like this
in Mission Hills?
In Leawood? Hmm?
"Dago," "wop."
We're the goddamn Roman Empire.
They were born in huts.
Josto...
(mutters faintly)
All I'm saying is who knows
what they're doing
to my brother.
Three years you had me
with the Irish.
Tre ann...
(clears throat)
If I say it is so, it is so.
Hey!
Tell him about Gaetano.
Tell me what?
Your brother's coming over.
He wants to see your ma.
When?
Uh...
Next week.
Visitina?
Yeah.
(caps popping)
(grunts) Bang!
Bang!
BOY:
Put your hands up!
Put your hands up!
♪ ♪
So you were just gonna sneak him
in so he could, uh, what,
measure the drapes?
‐This is my town.
‐(speaks Italian)
He's not even American.
‐Come on, already!
‐(horn honking)
I'm the boss.
This is my world. My crew.
Yeah.
(Donatello clears throat)
(caps continue popping)
(conversation continues faintly)
BOY:
Bang! Bang!
Bang, bang.
‐Papa. I didn't,
I didn't mean...
‐You...
♪ ♪
(caps popping)
♪ ♪
Bang!
‐(grunts)
‐Pop.
Pop, what's the matter?
Pop. Hey.
(caps popping)
‐(Donatello grunting)
‐Pop. Pop.
‐(exhales heavily)
‐What? Pop. Hey, Pop.
‐Boss?
‐Pop.
‐Pop. Papa.
‐Hey, what happened?
‐Boss! Boss.
‐Pop. Pop!
‐Pop! Pop.
‐Boss. What happened, boss?
(farts loudly)
‐(grunts)
‐Christ.
‐Gross.
‐(Donatello speaking Italian)
‐Oh... Oh, Pop.
‐(whoops)
Oh, Jesus Christ.
(grunts)
‐(gasps)
‐Oh!
‐(grunting)
‐Pop!
(mutters)
Go! Go,
‐go, go, go, go!
‐No! Get your ass moving, hurry!
‐(horn honking)
‐CROSSING GUARD: Oh!
Stay with them.
Hey! Hey!
Faster, Antonio, faster!
Step on it, Antoon!
♪ ♪
Hey.
That's the wrong door!
(indistinct chatter)
Keep that pressure on his neck.
(speaking Italian)
Doctor! Doctor! Doctor.
‐We need a doctor.
‐Sir, there is a line.
‐He's cut. Call a doctor.
‐You need to check in properly.
Get the fucking doctor.
Sir, there is no need
for that tone.
Darling, you best find a doctor
or this man's gonna die
right here in your lobby.
And then you'll have us
to deal with.
Stay calm, Papa.
(speaking Italian)
Gentlemen,
we don't want any trouble.
I'm the hospital administrator,
Dr. Harvard.
Are you kidding? Is he kidding?
Can I get a fucking doctor?
‐Is that a gunshot?
‐PAOLO: Absolutely not.
My friend, we are
both professional.
So, what's it gonna take?
Gentlemen, this is
a private hospital.
We serve only a certain class
of people.
A certain class of people?
Respectable. American.
Now, St. Bartholomew
is a few miles away.
That's the public hospital,
for your kind of people.
I recommend
you take your business there.
Hurt this guy.
‐No. Wait!
‐Now hold on.
You should know
we've called the police,
and they're on their way.
I propose you go
to St. Bartholomew's.
Immediately.
(siren wailing in distance)
Get him in the car.
Keep the pressure on.
‐Come on, Paolo.
‐Come on, let's go.
Let's go.
You and me are gonna
dance again later. Hmm?
Let's go!
‐Go!
‐Go, Antonio.
‐Antonio, go, go!
‐(speaking Italian)
‐Go!
‐Go!
(horn honking)
WINCKLE:
You boys find the place okay?
The third‐largest bank
in the state.
Found it fine.
Well, any friend of the
Alderman's a friend of mine.
He tells me
you're a banker yourself.
In your community.
Well, we give personal
and small business loans.
This is my associate,
Doctor Senator.
‐You're a doctor?
‐DOCTOR SENATOR: No, sir.
Name is Doctor.
Uh, Doctor Senator.
It was my mother's idea.
‐And what was her name?
‐Ma'am.
‐(laughs) Her name was Ma'am?
‐LOY: Doc here runs
operations for the entire
Midwest region.
‐He has a PhD in economics.
‐DOCTOR SENATOR: Mm‐hmm.
Howard University.
That's the Negro school.
Can we cut to the chase? Wink?
Can I call you Wink?
We're here
'cause I have an idea.
‐An idea.
‐I'm something of a futurist,
which means I don't just see
how to make money today,
I have a premonition
about the wealth of tomorrow.
At our bank,
we extend a lot of credit.
But unlike
this fine establishment,
we don't always ask
for commensurate collateral.
And what I've learned
is that every average joe
wants one thing,
and that's to seem rich.
Not to be rich.
To look rich.
It's about face.
Picture it's Saturday night,
and you're going out
with your best girl.
You promised her lobster,
but there's a problem.
You've only got two dollars
to your name.
But you're not afraid,
'cause you've got this.
WINCKLE:
Is that...?
(laughs)
What is that?
I call it a credit card.
Accepted at stores
and fine dining establishments
around the country.
LOY:
Can't pay for the meal today?
Put it on credit,
pay for it tomorrow.
Plus interest.
That's the key.
We've already got about
a hundred businesses signed up
in the colored community
around the state.
It's heavy.
That's just a prototype.
The real card
could be manufactured
‐from a lighter material.
‐For instance,
there's are a lot
of exciting things happening
these days in plastics.
And you're saying
the bank, uh...
What are you saying?
LOY:
What you hold in your hand
right now is something I call
a financial instrument.
It is a product your bank
will offer to customers.
(pneumatic tube rumbling)
Uh, just think of it as
an open line of credit
paid back weekly.
Or monthly.
I don't understand.
If you got your own bank,
what do you need us for?
Simple. I've already
got a customer base.
What I need help with
is convincing white businesses
to take the card
as a means of payment
so we can expand
into your community
and then go national.
I was thinking a partnership,
60‐40.
No.
No?
I'm offering you
a million‐dollar idea.
‐A billion‐dollar idea.
‐(Winckle scoffs)
I'll give you this, you boys
have got a hell of an
imagination. (chuckles)
But the people
I see day in, day out‐‐
hardworking people, family men‐‐
well, they're just not gonna
spend money they don't have.
‐Mr. Winckle...
‐WINCKLE: And charging 'em
high rates of interest,
preying on 'em
when times get tough, well,
that's just not what banking's
all about. (chuckles)
But thanks for thinking
of us here
at Winckle Savings and Loan,
voted number one
in customer services for the
larger Kansas City metro area
three years running.
(chuckles)
You fellas have yourselves
a crackerjack day.
How'd it go?
A fucking dream come true.
(Antoon whimpering, sniffling)
DR. SANJIT:
We got the pellet out, but
he's lost a lot of blood.
I want a real doctor.
I assure you, I'm as real
a doctor as you can get.
Is he gonna die?
I'd like to keep him here
a few days.
Uh, as I said,
he's lost a lot of blood.
What matters is he rests.
‐(door opens)
‐(indistinct announcement
over P. A.)
I want two guys
on watch all night.
I'll take care of it myself.
Send everyone else home.
And what about your mama?
Tell Maxia. She'll talk to Ma
and the others.
They can come in the morning,
if he makes it.
(sighs)
Oh, excuse me,
‐young fella,
chuck wagon coming through.
‐Oh, sorry.
Oh, God, no need for sorry.
What with you worrying
and grieving.
Hey.
You got any bennies?
Zoomers?
A little chicken powder?
You know,
something to pick me up.
I've had a world‐class day.
Well, sir, those...
...those types of narcotics‐‐
when prescribed
as a medical remedy,
say, as a mood elevator or to
strengthen the concentration‐‐
can be quite effective,
but ingesting them
without the written prescription
of a certified physician‐‐
(clicks tongue)
that's not something
I can help you with.
Psst.
What if I share?
(snorts)
‐Holy Christmas.
‐Mm‐hmm.
When using illicit substances,
it's very important to avoid
obvious physical tells:
redness of the eyes,
inflamed epidermal tissue,
say around the proboscis.
‐You got a funny way of talking.
‐Yep.
I'm from Minnesota,
land of 10,000 lakes.
No, I mean... (clears throat)
you use big words.
Well, I've found in my 36 years
on God's green Earth
that it's absolutely critical
to be precise
in your use of language
so as to avoid
instances of misreckoning.
(exclaims)
Well...
I should return
to my ministrations.
‐You have a Bunsen burner?
‐Huh? No.
Oh, no.
There was no bang
when they shot him.
Hmm?
‐My father.
‐Mm.
Who shot him?
I don't know.
Children, I think.
That's not what matters.
Mm, tell me what matters.
Hmm?
(sighs)
He's in a lot of pain.
And I don't like
to see him like that.
Will you take care of him?
I shall attend to him faithfully
until the Lord arrives.
Aces.
(door opens)
(door closes)
♪ To live in an old shack
by the sea... ♪
Bang.
♪ And breathe
the sweet salt air ♪
♪ To live with the dawn ♪
♪ And the dusk ♪
♪ The new moon ♪
♪ And the full moon ♪
♪ I am everyone ♪
♪ Anyone ♪
♪ No one. ♪
DIBRELL:
I was about to ring
the bell again.
Sorry.
Miss French started us
on reverse fractions.
THURMAN:
Come, Lord Jesus,
be our guest, and let Thy gifts
to us be blessed.
Amen.
‐Amen.
‐Amen.
You know, Zebron says
we might be getting
the American Pathology
Conference right here
in Kansas City next year.
Maybe they want me
to present my paper
on how to simulate
a lifelike glimmer
‐in the human eye.
‐It's happening. (chuckling)
Who were those men earlier?
The which?
After the funeral.
You sent me to my room.
THURMAN:
Sorry about the exchange
with Nurse Mayflower before.
She's... you know,
a bit of an eccentric.
Progressive in her way,
I suppose.
By all measure, a fine woman.
Works at St. Bartholomew's.
Hmm.
You mentioned.
Ma, who were those men?
DIBRELL:
Well, Ethelrida,
not all things in this house
is for your understanding.
Your father and I
do deserve some privacy.
Dad?
I'm not a kid,
‐you know.
‐Well, dear, technically...
I know there's something afoot.
I hear the whispers
late at night.
I'm a part of this family,
you know.
Girl, you best sit down
and finish your meal.
I know I didn't raise a child
who would throw such histrionics
at my dinner table,
under my roof.
What your mother's
trying to say...
DIBRELL:
Don't "what your mother's
trying to say" her.
She hears me.
And if she don't,
she damn well hears my tone.
Sit down.
That's better.
Believe me, if there's something
your father and I
want you to know,
you're gonna know it.
Now, pass the peas.
♪ ♪
‐(horn playing)
‐I'll get Lemuel
to bring you out a plate.
‐Hey.
‐CHILDREN: Daddy!
All right.
BUEL:
Give your daddy some room, now.
He's had a tough day.
Hmm. How you know
what kind of day I had?
'Cause you got a face
and I've been looking at it
‐every day for 26 years.
‐Oh.
Boy, get a plate together
and bring it out to Opal.
Now.
Hey, Mama.
(muted trumpet playing
slow melody)
Lemuel says you saw Satchel.
(quietly):
Yeah.
Skinny.
I don't want to hear that.
And I don't want to say it.
But this ain't no fairy tale.
How's he doing?
He ate a loaf of bread
for lunch.
I called him Satchel twice.
We'll get him back.
When?
As soon as I see their throats.
‐Who made dinner?
‐(girls giggle)
‐Did you help your mommy?
‐Yeah.
‐You better help your mommy.
‐(giggling)
And if you made it,
I can't wait. (chuckles)
)
(liquid pouring)
(bottle top squeaking)
(sirens wailing in distance)
(snoring lightly)
(footsteps approaching)
Okay, my lovely,
no need to fret.
Mama's here.
(quick inhale)
(clears throat)
(Oraetta speaks indistinctly)
Does it hurt, my lovely?
This earthly realm.
(weakly):
Dumini.
(labored breathing)
(speaking Italian)
Get... the doctor.
‐You speak Italiano?
‐Mm‐hmm.
Y español.
Und deutsch.
Enough to becalm my wards
and settle my patients.
I'm a people person,
don'tcha know.
(chuckles)
Now, rest up, old‐timer,
for your Lord won't want you
if you're ornery.
My... son.
Such a sweet boy.
And he's concerned for you.
He sees the pain you're in,
the tribulations you've endured.
But don't worry,
it won't be much longer now.
Hey! Stop that!
‐(gasping breaths)
‐It won't be much longer.
‐Shh, shh, shh, shh.
‐(weakly): Dumini.
Dumini.
(choking, panting)
It won't be much longer now.
(grunting)
‐(snoring)
‐(Donatello continues grunting)
(gasping breaths, grunting)
(long, rattling exhale)
(humming quietly)
(watch ticking)
(quietly):
♪ I was stand... ♪
(quietly):
♪ I was standing ♪
(a little louder):
♪ By my window ♪
(louder):
♪ It was a cold and cloudy day ♪
♪ When I saw my ♪
♪ Hearse come rollin' ♪
♪ For to carry my mother away ♪
♪ Will the circle ♪
♪ Be unbroken ♪
♪ By and by, Lord ♪
♪ By and by ♪
♪ There's a better ♪
♪ Home a‐waitin' ♪
♪ In the sky, Lord ♪
♪ In the sky. ♪
♪ ♪
(traffic rumbling in distance)
(vehicle approaching)
Ooh.
(quietly):
I know.
Yeah.
Yeah, I told ya, I...
Mm‐hmm.
(door opens)
♪ ♪
(door opens)
Hon?
Is that you?
Geez, it's freezing out here.
Why don't you come inside?
What's gonna happen to me, Dad?
In the world.
Oh, hon.
It's gonna be okay.
There's a place for all of us
on this earth.
We just...
we just have to find it.
Why don't you come on in?
Who were those guys?
In the kitchen.
We're just having
some money trouble right now,
your mom and me.
Not a lot.
Please don't tell her I said.
She's a very proud woman,
you know.
Are we gonna lose the house?
No. No, nothing like that.
Just a bad city inspection,
some renovations to do,
but we‐we got it covered.
Want me to read to you,
help you fall back asleep?
Dad, I'm 16.
Doesn't mean you don't
need a bedtime story
from time to time.
What do you say?
Wizard of Oz?
All right.
Come on.
(lock clicks)
(dogs barking in distance)
(wind howling)
(train whistle blows
in distance)
♪ ♪
MAN:
Now I get it.
(rooster crows)
My history report,
by Ethelrida Pearl Smutny.
(door opens)
(door closes)
Frederick Douglass
once intoned,
"I stand before you
as a thief and a robber.
"I stole this head,
these limbs,
this body from my master,
and I ran off with them."
What'd you do this time?
I been maligned.
ETHELRIDA:
My point being,
the moment our feet
touched American soil,
we were already criminals.
Next.
ETHELRIDA:
But this report isn't about
my history.
It's about our history.
DRIVER:
Hyah! Hyah!
ETHELRIDA:
Kansas City, Missouri.
In the beginning
there were the Hebrews,
and they ran the underworld.
(indistinct chatter)
Then came the Irish.
♪ ♪
(spits)
(spits)
(stamping feet)
(clucks tongue)
To keep the peace,
the boss of each family
gave offer of his youngest son
in trade.
Relax, boychick.
ETHELRIDA:
The thinking was,
by raising
your enemy's offspring,
an understanding
could be reached.
‐There.
‐And peace maintained.
‐Put some hair on your bollocks.
‐(all chuckling)
(cheering)
(clapping)
(school bell ringing)
(sighs)
See, the problem wasn't
that I was disreputable.
What'd you do this time?
Punched Dolores Disfarmer
with my eye,
of course.
I was, in fact, a student
of exceptional virtue
and high achievement.
The problem was
the only thing worse
than a disreputable Negro
was an upstanding one.
I got it.
And so I endured
the slings and arrows
of small‐minded folk who,
in their narrow thoughts,
imagined they could
teach me a lesson.
(car horn honks)
‐(music playing)
‐(indistinct conversations)
‐Hey!
‐(men shouting)
WOMAN (screaming):
Oh, my God! Oh!
(shouting)
♪ ♪
Well done, boyo.
Bring the lad.
(grunts)
And now... my son.
Are you familiar
with the legend of Goldilocks?
Someone...
has been sittin' in your chair.
And someone has been eatin'
from your bowl.
And someone has been sleepin'
in your bed.
It's time...
...for bears
to be bears.
(chuckles)
Yeah.
(crying)
(whimpering)
Chew him up.
ETHELRIDA:
Logic dictates
that in every fight,
there is a winner and a loser.
But this is a history report.
And what does history tell us?
Peace don't last for long.
♪ ♪
(horn honks)
The Italians came next.
That's how it worked.
Whoever was last off the boat,
finding the doors
of honest capital closed,
rolled up their sleeves
and got to work,
getting rich
the old‐fashioned way.
(Yiddles spits)
(spits)
(stamping feet)
♪ ♪
(kisses)
ETHELRIDA:
Webster's defines
"assimilation" as...
"the process of becoming
similar to something."
You can check it if you want,
but it's factual.
But imbibing these words,
dear reader,
we are forced to ask,
similar to what?
TEACHER:
Have a seat, Ethelrida.
ETHELRIDA:
If America is a nation
of immigrants,
then how does one
become American?
I take your meaning
and applaud your intent,
but if it's all the same,
I believe I'm gonna
go ahead and stand.
♪ How'm I doin, hey, hey... ♪
‐(indistinct chatter)
‐And, you know, he lied so much,
they called
the son of a bitch "Two Face."
But you can't be too careful.
So, after I shot him between
the eyes I rolled him over
and shot him on the other side,
just to be certain.
‐(laughter)
‐Let it never be said...
(pounding on door)
It's the double cross.
Let me in,
I got to talk to my dad.
(Brahms' "Warum Ist Licht
Gegeben Den Muhseligen" playing)
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
You pig fuckers.
You sons of whores.
I'll murder the lot of you!
(Yiddles wheezing)
YIDDLES:
A curse on you...
ETHELRIDA:
Winston Churchill said,
"History is written
by the victors."
That's a fancy word for winner.
My folks have a system.
Dad does the white funerals.
Condolences.
Condolences.
Mom ministrates to the colored.
(organ playing)
What's this?
It's the Urbanski to‐do,
remember?
Should I go around back?
Dad?
Uh, no, no. Just...
It's winding down,
go on through to the kitchen.
(indistinct chatter)
(blowing nose)
Oh, oh, apologies.
What?
Oh, I‐I... I was simply
excusing myself.
I'm not normally
this out of sorts.
ETHELRIDA:
It's a funeral.
People cry at funerals.
Ah, amen.
Those are wise words
for a person of your complexion.
But, then I've noticed
your people
are often more in touch
with their spiritual
and emotional side.
My people?
(sniffs hard)
The Negro.
It's a Baptist fervor, I'd
wager, what causes them to hoot
and tumble to the floor,
aflush with the Holy Spirit.
Miss Mayflower,
I see you've met my daughter,
Ethelrida.
Your daughter?
THURMAN:
The one and only.
Ethelrida,
this is Miss Mayflower.
She's a nurse
at St. Bartholomew.
Oh, yeah.
Huh.
Yes, now I see it.
This child is certainly
the product of miscegenation.
Uh, if by that you mean
she's the spitting image
of her father, then I take
that as a compliment.
Your mother must be
quite dark‐skinned.
As I've‐I've noticed
in my study of the human animal
that in the combination
of the races,
it is de rigueur for the more
extreme coloration to prevail.
(sniffles)
I'm going to the kitchen.
It was very nice to meet you.
Lovely.
(laughs)
Well, I best be going.
ETHELRIDA: Here's the thing
about America:
the minute you relax
and fatten up...
(car horn honking)
...somebody hungrier's
gonna come along,
looking for a piece
of your pie.
♪ ♪
You come alone?
(whistles)
♪ ♪
(kisses)
♪ ♪
(spits)
Nah.
Relax.
♪ ♪
I just thought, being men,
we should do this like men.
(chuckling)
(Fadda men chuckling)
♪ ♪
LOY:
Well, all right, then.
DONATELLO:
Yeah, all right.
DOCTOR SENATOR:
You're sure about this?
You're the one
who said war was killing us.
But you remember
what happened to the Irish?
We had this back‐and‐forth
already.
They got the upper hand now,
but not for long.
So we play along or keep
cutting each other's throats.
He's your boy.
There's got to be
something less we can risk.
♪ ♪
(quietly):
Keep your head down.
If there's trouble,
swing for the balls,
then the eyes.
SATCHEL:
No!
No. No!
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
Learn everything.
Sleep with one eye open.
Be as Daniel in the lion's den.
I don't want to go.
Come on, kid.
Hey.
You want my advice ?
Be who you need to be,
don't forget who you are.
This is
Zirominu Guglielmo Fadda,
youngest son of Don Fadda.
Protect his life as your own.
Where you from‐‐
Dublin, Italy?
(chuckles)
ETHELRIDA:
And here's what
you need to know
about the people in that room.
None of them were white.
They were dagos,
Negroes, micks,
all fighting for the right
to have been created equal.
But equal to what?
And who gets to decide?
And that leads me to this
conclusory idea, dear reader,
which is that history
is made up of the actions
of individuals.
And yet, none of us can know
at the time we act
that we are making history.
Mama?
Go to your room.
‐But I...
‐I said go to your room.
♪ ♪
alling)
♪ ♪
LOY:
He behaving?
DONATELLO:
Boys are boys.
But he clean his plate.
He says "sir."
LOY:
We should talk
about the stockyards.
DONATELLO:
A done deal is done.
What could we say?
Well, we could talk
about how most of the labor
on the east side is colored now
and how that should
make it ours.
DONATELLO:
I own black clothes.
You saying those are yours, too?
(Omie speaking indistinctly)
So I give him a little uppercut,
keep him on his feet.
‐(chuckles)
‐So, right after...
Which one of you is Samuel?
Lemuel.
‐What?
‐My name is Lemuel.
It's in the Bible.
The Jew part
or the Catholic part?
Boy, you need
to get up out of here.
We're trying to have
a civilized conversation.
Do you know who I am?
Do you?
What?
You say "what" a lot.
What?
I think he's confused.
Boss.
It's a playground.
Come on.
(chuckles)
(clicking tongue)
Like I was saying...
Had to hit him
with a couple uppercuts.
Want to keep him on his feet.
LOY:
His mama needs
to see him.
DONATELLO:
Hmm.
We can arrange something
for the weekend.
Just the women.
You're acting
like I work for you.
We got an alliance.
And I know you think
part of being an American
is standing on my neck.
But I see the window signs.
"No coloreds, no Italians."
So we're both in the gutter
together, like it or not.
Now, I'm gonna
keep growing my business...
...and making sure
my people are safe.
You want to start
murdering children?
Last I checked,
you had more than me.
Calm down.
There's no anger here.
Just business.
Ah.
♪ Up and down this road I go ♪
♪ Skipping and a‐dodging
from a .44 ♪
♪ Up and down
this road I go... ♪
See you in the Bible.
That don't even make sense.
(speaks Italian)
♪ Jack the rabbit... ♪
Take the kid.
I got a meeting.
♪ Just one hair ♪
♪ Jack the rabbit ♪
♪ Jack the bear ♪
♪ Won't you light it ♪
♪ Just one hair ♪
♪ Up and down this road I go ♪
♪ Skipping and a‐dodging
from a .44. ♪
We should move on them already.
They don't respect you,
they don't respect the family.
You think they don't talk
about us like this
in Mission Hills?
In Leawood? Hmm?
"Dago," "wop."
We're the goddamn Roman Empire.
They were born in huts.
Josto...
(mutters faintly)
All I'm saying is who knows
what they're doing
to my brother.
Three years you had me
with the Irish.
Tre ann...
(clears throat)
If I say it is so, it is so.
Hey!
Tell him about Gaetano.
Tell me what?
Your brother's coming over.
He wants to see your ma.
When?
Uh...
Next week.
Visitina?
Yeah.
(caps popping)
(grunts) Bang!
Bang!
BOY:
Put your hands up!
Put your hands up!
♪ ♪
So you were just gonna sneak him
in so he could, uh, what,
measure the drapes?
‐This is my town.
‐(speaks Italian)
He's not even American.
‐Come on, already!
‐(horn honking)
I'm the boss.
This is my world. My crew.
Yeah.
(Donatello clears throat)
(caps continue popping)
(conversation continues faintly)
BOY:
Bang! Bang!
Bang, bang.
‐Papa. I didn't,
I didn't mean...
‐You...
♪ ♪
(caps popping)
♪ ♪
Bang!
‐(grunts)
‐Pop.
Pop, what's the matter?
Pop. Hey.
(caps popping)
‐(Donatello grunting)
‐Pop. Pop.
‐(exhales heavily)
‐What? Pop. Hey, Pop.
‐Boss?
‐Pop.
‐Pop. Papa.
‐Hey, what happened?
‐Boss! Boss.
‐Pop. Pop!
‐Pop! Pop.
‐Boss. What happened, boss?
(farts loudly)
‐(grunts)
‐Christ.
‐Gross.
‐(Donatello speaking Italian)
‐Oh... Oh, Pop.
‐(whoops)
Oh, Jesus Christ.
(grunts)
‐(gasps)
‐Oh!
‐(grunting)
‐Pop!
(mutters)
Go! Go,
‐go, go, go, go!
‐No! Get your ass moving, hurry!
‐(horn honking)
‐CROSSING GUARD: Oh!
Stay with them.
Hey! Hey!
Faster, Antonio, faster!
Step on it, Antoon!
♪ ♪
Hey.
That's the wrong door!
(indistinct chatter)
Keep that pressure on his neck.
(speaking Italian)
Doctor! Doctor! Doctor.
‐We need a doctor.
‐Sir, there is a line.
‐He's cut. Call a doctor.
‐You need to check in properly.
Get the fucking doctor.
Sir, there is no need
for that tone.
Darling, you best find a doctor
or this man's gonna die
right here in your lobby.
And then you'll have us
to deal with.
Stay calm, Papa.
(speaking Italian)
Gentlemen,
we don't want any trouble.
I'm the hospital administrator,
Dr. Harvard.
Are you kidding? Is he kidding?
Can I get a fucking doctor?
‐Is that a gunshot?
‐PAOLO: Absolutely not.
My friend, we are
both professional.
So, what's it gonna take?
Gentlemen, this is
a private hospital.
We serve only a certain class
of people.
A certain class of people?
Respectable. American.
Now, St. Bartholomew
is a few miles away.
That's the public hospital,
for your kind of people.
I recommend
you take your business there.
Hurt this guy.
‐No. Wait!
‐Now hold on.
You should know
we've called the police,
and they're on their way.
I propose you go
to St. Bartholomew's.
Immediately.
(siren wailing in distance)
Get him in the car.
Keep the pressure on.
‐Come on, Paolo.
‐Come on, let's go.
Let's go.
You and me are gonna
dance again later. Hmm?
Let's go!
‐Go!
‐Go, Antonio.
‐Antonio, go, go!
‐(speaking Italian)
‐Go!
‐Go!
(horn honking)
WINCKLE:
You boys find the place okay?
The third‐largest bank
in the state.
Found it fine.
Well, any friend of the
Alderman's a friend of mine.
He tells me
you're a banker yourself.
In your community.
Well, we give personal
and small business loans.
This is my associate,
Doctor Senator.
‐You're a doctor?
‐DOCTOR SENATOR: No, sir.
Name is Doctor.
Uh, Doctor Senator.
It was my mother's idea.
‐And what was her name?
‐Ma'am.
‐(laughs) Her name was Ma'am?
‐LOY: Doc here runs
operations for the entire
Midwest region.
‐He has a PhD in economics.
‐DOCTOR SENATOR: Mm‐hmm.
Howard University.
That's the Negro school.
Can we cut to the chase? Wink?
Can I call you Wink?
We're here
'cause I have an idea.
‐An idea.
‐I'm something of a futurist,
which means I don't just see
how to make money today,
I have a premonition
about the wealth of tomorrow.
At our bank,
we extend a lot of credit.
But unlike
this fine establishment,
we don't always ask
for commensurate collateral.
And what I've learned
is that every average joe
wants one thing,
and that's to seem rich.
Not to be rich.
To look rich.
It's about face.
Picture it's Saturday night,
and you're going out
with your best girl.
You promised her lobster,
but there's a problem.
You've only got two dollars
to your name.
But you're not afraid,
'cause you've got this.
WINCKLE:
Is that...?
(laughs)
What is that?
I call it a credit card.
Accepted at stores
and fine dining establishments
around the country.
LOY:
Can't pay for the meal today?
Put it on credit,
pay for it tomorrow.
Plus interest.
That's the key.
We've already got about
a hundred businesses signed up
in the colored community
around the state.
It's heavy.
That's just a prototype.
The real card
could be manufactured
‐from a lighter material.
‐For instance,
there's are a lot
of exciting things happening
these days in plastics.
And you're saying
the bank, uh...
What are you saying?
LOY:
What you hold in your hand
right now is something I call
a financial instrument.
It is a product your bank
will offer to customers.
(pneumatic tube rumbling)
Uh, just think of it as
an open line of credit
paid back weekly.
Or monthly.
I don't understand.
If you got your own bank,
what do you need us for?
Simple. I've already
got a customer base.
What I need help with
is convincing white businesses
to take the card
as a means of payment
so we can expand
into your community
and then go national.
I was thinking a partnership,
60‐40.
No.
No?
I'm offering you
a million‐dollar idea.
‐A billion‐dollar idea.
‐(Winckle scoffs)
I'll give you this, you boys
have got a hell of an
imagination. (chuckles)
But the people
I see day in, day out‐‐
hardworking people, family men‐‐
well, they're just not gonna
spend money they don't have.
‐Mr. Winckle...
‐WINCKLE: And charging 'em
high rates of interest,
preying on 'em
when times get tough, well,
that's just not what banking's
all about. (chuckles)
But thanks for thinking
of us here
at Winckle Savings and Loan,
voted number one
in customer services for the
larger Kansas City metro area
three years running.
(chuckles)
You fellas have yourselves
a crackerjack day.
How'd it go?
A fucking dream come true.
(Antoon whimpering, sniffling)
DR. SANJIT:
We got the pellet out, but
he's lost a lot of blood.
I want a real doctor.
I assure you, I'm as real
a doctor as you can get.
Is he gonna die?
I'd like to keep him here
a few days.
Uh, as I said,
he's lost a lot of blood.
What matters is he rests.
‐(door opens)
‐(indistinct announcement
over P. A.)
I want two guys
on watch all night.
I'll take care of it myself.
Send everyone else home.
And what about your mama?
Tell Maxia. She'll talk to Ma
and the others.
They can come in the morning,
if he makes it.
(sighs)
Oh, excuse me,
‐young fella,
chuck wagon coming through.
‐Oh, sorry.
Oh, God, no need for sorry.
What with you worrying
and grieving.
Hey.
You got any bennies?
Zoomers?
A little chicken powder?
You know,
something to pick me up.
I've had a world‐class day.
Well, sir, those...
...those types of narcotics‐‐
when prescribed
as a medical remedy,
say, as a mood elevator or to
strengthen the concentration‐‐
can be quite effective,
but ingesting them
without the written prescription
of a certified physician‐‐
(clicks tongue)
that's not something
I can help you with.
Psst.
What if I share?
(snorts)
‐Holy Christmas.
‐Mm‐hmm.
When using illicit substances,
it's very important to avoid
obvious physical tells:
redness of the eyes,
inflamed epidermal tissue,
say around the proboscis.
‐You got a funny way of talking.
‐Yep.
I'm from Minnesota,
land of 10,000 lakes.
No, I mean... (clears throat)
you use big words.
Well, I've found in my 36 years
on God's green Earth
that it's absolutely critical
to be precise
in your use of language
so as to avoid
instances of misreckoning.
(exclaims)
Well...
I should return
to my ministrations.
‐You have a Bunsen burner?
‐Huh? No.
Oh, no.
There was no bang
when they shot him.
Hmm?
‐My father.
‐Mm.
Who shot him?
I don't know.
Children, I think.
That's not what matters.
Mm, tell me what matters.
Hmm?
(sighs)
He's in a lot of pain.
And I don't like
to see him like that.
Will you take care of him?
I shall attend to him faithfully
until the Lord arrives.
Aces.
(door opens)
(door closes)
♪ To live in an old shack
by the sea... ♪
Bang.
♪ And breathe
the sweet salt air ♪
♪ To live with the dawn ♪
♪ And the dusk ♪
♪ The new moon ♪
♪ And the full moon ♪
♪ I am everyone ♪
♪ Anyone ♪
♪ No one. ♪
DIBRELL:
I was about to ring
the bell again.
Sorry.
Miss French started us
on reverse fractions.
THURMAN:
Come, Lord Jesus,
be our guest, and let Thy gifts
to us be blessed.
Amen.
‐Amen.
‐Amen.
You know, Zebron says
we might be getting
the American Pathology
Conference right here
in Kansas City next year.
Maybe they want me
to present my paper
on how to simulate
a lifelike glimmer
‐in the human eye.
‐It's happening. (chuckling)
Who were those men earlier?
The which?
After the funeral.
You sent me to my room.
THURMAN:
Sorry about the exchange
with Nurse Mayflower before.
She's... you know,
a bit of an eccentric.
Progressive in her way,
I suppose.
By all measure, a fine woman.
Works at St. Bartholomew's.
Hmm.
You mentioned.
Ma, who were those men?
DIBRELL:
Well, Ethelrida,
not all things in this house
is for your understanding.
Your father and I
do deserve some privacy.
Dad?
I'm not a kid,
‐you know.
‐Well, dear, technically...
I know there's something afoot.
I hear the whispers
late at night.
I'm a part of this family,
you know.
Girl, you best sit down
and finish your meal.
I know I didn't raise a child
who would throw such histrionics
at my dinner table,
under my roof.
What your mother's
trying to say...
DIBRELL:
Don't "what your mother's
trying to say" her.
She hears me.
And if she don't,
she damn well hears my tone.
Sit down.
That's better.
Believe me, if there's something
your father and I
want you to know,
you're gonna know it.
Now, pass the peas.
♪ ♪
‐(horn playing)
‐I'll get Lemuel
to bring you out a plate.
‐Hey.
‐CHILDREN: Daddy!
All right.
BUEL:
Give your daddy some room, now.
He's had a tough day.
Hmm. How you know
what kind of day I had?
'Cause you got a face
and I've been looking at it
‐every day for 26 years.
‐Oh.
Boy, get a plate together
and bring it out to Opal.
Now.
Hey, Mama.
(muted trumpet playing
slow melody)
Lemuel says you saw Satchel.
(quietly):
Yeah.
Skinny.
I don't want to hear that.
And I don't want to say it.
But this ain't no fairy tale.
How's he doing?
He ate a loaf of bread
for lunch.
I called him Satchel twice.
We'll get him back.
When?
As soon as I see their throats.
‐Who made dinner?
‐(girls giggle)
‐Did you help your mommy?
‐Yeah.
‐You better help your mommy.
‐(giggling)
And if you made it,
I can't wait. (chuckles)
)
(liquid pouring)
(bottle top squeaking)
(sirens wailing in distance)
(snoring lightly)
(footsteps approaching)
Okay, my lovely,
no need to fret.
Mama's here.
(quick inhale)
(clears throat)
(Oraetta speaks indistinctly)
Does it hurt, my lovely?
This earthly realm.
(weakly):
Dumini.
(labored breathing)
(speaking Italian)
Get... the doctor.
‐You speak Italiano?
‐Mm‐hmm.
Y español.
Und deutsch.
Enough to becalm my wards
and settle my patients.
I'm a people person,
don'tcha know.
(chuckles)
Now, rest up, old‐timer,
for your Lord won't want you
if you're ornery.
My... son.
Such a sweet boy.
And he's concerned for you.
He sees the pain you're in,
the tribulations you've endured.
But don't worry,
it won't be much longer now.
Hey! Stop that!
‐(gasping breaths)
‐It won't be much longer.
‐Shh, shh, shh, shh.
‐(weakly): Dumini.
Dumini.
(choking, panting)
It won't be much longer now.
(grunting)
‐(snoring)
‐(Donatello continues grunting)
(gasping breaths, grunting)
(long, rattling exhale)
(humming quietly)
(watch ticking)
(quietly):
♪ I was stand... ♪
(quietly):
♪ I was standing ♪
(a little louder):
♪ By my window ♪
(louder):
♪ It was a cold and cloudy day ♪
♪ When I saw my ♪
♪ Hearse come rollin' ♪
♪ For to carry my mother away ♪
♪ Will the circle ♪
♪ Be unbroken ♪
♪ By and by, Lord ♪
♪ By and by ♪
♪ There's a better ♪
♪ Home a‐waitin' ♪
♪ In the sky, Lord ♪
♪ In the sky. ♪
♪ ♪
(traffic rumbling in distance)
(vehicle approaching)
Ooh.
(quietly):
I know.
Yeah.
Yeah, I told ya, I...
Mm‐hmm.
(door opens)
♪ ♪
(door opens)
Hon?
Is that you?
Geez, it's freezing out here.
Why don't you come inside?
What's gonna happen to me, Dad?
In the world.
Oh, hon.
It's gonna be okay.
There's a place for all of us
on this earth.
We just...
we just have to find it.
Why don't you come on in?
Who were those guys?
In the kitchen.
We're just having
some money trouble right now,
your mom and me.
Not a lot.
Please don't tell her I said.
She's a very proud woman,
you know.
Are we gonna lose the house?
No. No, nothing like that.
Just a bad city inspection,
some renovations to do,
but we‐we got it covered.
Want me to read to you,
help you fall back asleep?
Dad, I'm 16.
Doesn't mean you don't
need a bedtime story
from time to time.
What do you say?
Wizard of Oz?
All right.
Come on.
(lock clicks)
(dogs barking in distance)
(wind howling)
(train whistle blows
in distance)
♪ ♪
MAN:
Now I get it.
(rooster crows)