Oz (1997–2003): Season 6, Episode 1 - Dead Man Talking - full transcript

In the Season Six premiere, Alvarez and Schillinger are let out of solitary and placed back in general population. Meanwhile, a mourning Rebadow's spirits get a lift when he is transferred to the library and meets the new librarian, Stella Coffo.

[bright tone]

[tense jazzy music]

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- Oz, the name on the street

for the Oswald State
Correctional Facility,

level four.

Yeah, it's me.

You thought I was dead,
didn't you?

Well, I am.



But that don't mean
I can't keep jawing,

and now that
I crossed over,

I got a whole new perspective
on things,

and I'm seeing a lot
of familiar faces.

[harmonica music playing]

♪ ♪

- Fuck!

- Chill the fuck out.

- Yeah, this ain't so bad.
Let me tell you,

dying's a lot harder
on the livin'

than it is on the dead.

Death really only hurts
those left behind.

♪ ♪

- Tim, what are you doing ?



- Hey, come here.

What do you think ?

- What are you, Picasso ?

- No, it's not art.

It's a maze,
it's a meditative maze.

- Oh, okay.

What's a meditative maze ?

- Well, if you got a problem

that you're trying
to figure out,

you enter the maze,

and...

as you make your way through,

you concentrate
on finding the right path,

which stimulates
your powers of reason,

and by the time
you reach the end,

hopefully you'll have
figured the problem out.

- Oh, yeah, I forgot.

You went to that
New Age seminar last weekend.

- Yeah, so many people that died
since they set up Em City,

I was beginning
to feel anesthetized, you know.

But Augustus Hill.

Boy, that rocked me.

I don't know.

A maze is kind of dumb,
but who's to say, right ?

I mean, if it works...

we gotta try it, right ?
- Sure, Tim.

Only, you know,
without real walls,

these dinks are just gonna

step over the line.

After Augustus died,

and we cleaned out
his footlocker,

I found this box.

Now, written
on the lid is

"Do not open

until six months
after my death."

So, I decided
to respect his wishes.

This morning,
six months exactly,

I looked inside.

And?

"I am having a premonition
that today is

"the last day of my life.

"Or maybe it is not
a premonition.

"In Oz, every day is
potentially your last one.

"Anyway,
I'm taking the precaution

"of sealing up this box.

Both: "Inside you,
and by that I mean McManus,

"Burr and Said...

- "Will find a manuscript
which I've been writing

"over the past six years.

"If you're perusing this letter,

"then my premonition was right

"and I am dead.

"So consider these pages
my last will and testament.

"My will to survive.

"My testament to all
I've experienced in Oz.

- "I ask you to read my memories

and then do with them
whatever you think is right."

Burr.

- I don't want any
fucking part of this.

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

- Hey, Baba.

- Welcome back, Chucky.

You look good,
all healthy and shit.

- I guess I was
pretty close to death,

but Dr. Nathan,
she pulled me through.

What's the latest?

- The tits are flowing
free and easy,

especially now that
the niggers are out of the game.

Augustus Hill's death
really shattered them.

- Redding too?

- I don't understand
the man.

Franky Urbano goes
to stab Redding, kills Hill,

but Redding hasn't even
tried to retaliate.

- Redding's plotting something,
that's for sure.

- Yeah, but what?

[overlapping shouting]

[alarm buzzing]

- [whistles]

- Kill Whitey!

- Okay, let's break it up.

There's nothing to see here.

It's over, move on.

- Redding,
are you watching this?

Redding!

While you weeping and a wailing,
your men are out of control.

- They're upset
over losing Augustus.

What do you
expect me to do?

- I expect you
to take charge.

- Oh, geez, Kareem,

I'd have thought you'd be glad
to see me sit in the back seat.

Give you an opportunity
to convert all my boys to Islam.

- Yeah, well, there are some
who will never find God.

Nonetheless,
they need a leader,

and you are their leader.

But right now
you do not truly lead.

You sit in here
mourning Augustus.

As well, you should.

And you blame yourself.

As well, you should.

But what's the difference,

unless your emotions
are backed by action.

If Augustus's murder was truly
due to him slinging drugs

and you say you do not want
to see anymore young men die,

fine.

Drag your men away
from the drugs.

- How?

- I don't know.

The answer lies within you.

When you find it,

it is then that
you will finally,

completely be a leader.

'Til then,
you just a waste of space.

[soft dramatic music]

♪ ♪

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

- Aah!

- Hey, I want to talk to you
about what happens after death.

The afterlife.

See, the ancient Greeks believed
when a brother died,

he just got on a boat,

crossed the River Styx

and went to a place
called Hades.

Now everybody went to Hades.

It didn't matter how good
or how bad you were.

It's the place we all just
got our groove on.

But the Greeks,
they understood,

just having lived,

just having gone through
the sheer shit of getting up

and going through a whole day,

was enough
to earn eternal reward.

- Good morning, boys.

Today's the big day.

All you yokels get
to whine and snivel

in front of the review boards

in hopes that we'll
let you out of solitary.

Though God knows why you'd
wanna leave this paradise.

- My man, McManus,
he gonna vouch for me.

He gonna save me,
you know.

- I'd say my chances are 50/50.

- Glynn's a fuckhead.

That motherfucker's
never gonna let me out.

- You'll cast your vote for me,
won't you, Officer Howell?

- Oh, suck your big fat hole!

Where's breakfast?
Breakfast!

- What the fuck you
looking at, Martinez?

- You.
- Step back.

- Make me.

- How'd you know
I was in the mood

for a little Mexican food?

- I'm Puerto Rican.

- Same difference.

Strip.

[both moaning,
breathing heavily]

- Oh, Martinez
is fucking Howell.

- He's fucking her again ?

- He must need
to make a phone call.

- Damn.

- As you know, the time has come
for our biannual review

of the prisoners in solitary,

which I hate
to admit is SRO.

So we either need to let some
of these dinks back into Gen Pop

or ship their butts to another
correctional facility.

Who's first?

- Henry Stanton.

He's in solitary for stabbing
Martin Montgomery in the neck.

- Talkin' no more!
- Ah!

- Montgomery didn't even die.

He just can't sing anymore.

- [sighs]
Next?

- Vern Schillinger,

for raping Franklin Winthrop
and Adam Guenzel.

- I'm telling you,
the sex was consensual.

Ask Winthrop.

- Miguel Alvarez.

He smacked a member
of the parole board.

- I guess I got my hopes
up too high.

I'm not gonna do that again.

- Omar White.
He, uh...

- Omar strangled an Aryan.
- [choking]

- And then he saved
a guy's life.

♪ ♪

- Next.

- Greg Penders,

trained his seeing-eye mutt
to attack Officer Lopresti.

- Lopresti's fine.

Not a scratch on him.

- Carlos Martinez threw
a cocktail in Dave Brass' face.

- Motherfucker!

- Yeah, and as a result,

the CO's beat the shit
out of Martinez.

- [speaking Spanish]

- Martinez is scum.

We definitely should not
let him out of solitary.

- He and Penders
both attacked CO's.

I won't let either of them
back into Gen Pop.

Any recommendations
regarding the others?

- Stanton and Schillinger
could go.

- Schillinger?
No way.

If he's free,
he'll do something

to screw up
Tobias Beecher's parole hearing.

- Miguel Alvarez.
I want him in Em City.

- [groans]
- Leo, he's trying to change.

- So's Omar White.

I don't hear you
begging for him.

- I can help Alvarez.

I can't do anymore for Omar
than I've already done.

- Fuck.

[door clatters]

- Hey, Omar.

You and me get to spend
a little quality time together.

- What--what are you
squawking about ?

- McManus has left you here
in my warm embrace.

- No, no, wait,
let me talk to him.

Please.
- If I help you,

what'll you do for me
in return?

- I don't know.

- Shine my shoes?

- No, I-I ain't
no Pullman porter.

- Strip.

- [mutters]

Look, um...

I-I, uh...

I ain't been feeling
to good lately, you know.

- Strip.

Hurry.
I have lunch plans.

- [vomits]

- Ugh!

- Told you I was sick.

- You know what ?

Today, you are
the shoe shine boy.

Ugh, man!

- [grunts]
- Okay.

- Just coughing up
all kinds of colors and shit.

[coughs]

My--my piss
is like it's on fire.

- Any night sweats?

Trouble sleeping?
- Uh-uh.

- Hmm.
- [inhales sharply]

- I'd better admit him.

- Why, what's wrong with him?

- I'm not sure.
I'll do some tests.

- If it turns out
you're faking, dickwad,

I'm gonna eat your balls
for breakfast.

- By a vote of four to three,

we've decided
to release you from solitary.

- You're shitting me.
- No, Miguel.

You're coming back
to Emerald City.

- McManus put himself
on the line for you, Alvarez.

Don't fuck him over
with more of your nonsense.

- My nonsense, no.

I got enemies.
I can't control their nonsense.

[overlapping shouting]

[alarm buzzing]

♪ ♪

- Break it up!
Stop!

- So, what was that little
scuffle with Torres about ?

- I don't know.
He's crazy.

- Okay, Chico.

You know, I've been doing
some sniffing around,

and I've been able to piece
together some information

I thought you'd find
sort of interesting.

It's about Miguel Alvarez.

Every problem he's had
for the past five years or so

is somehow tied to you.

- Me?
No.

- So I'm telling you this.

If Miguel has
anymore difficulties,

I'm gonna be looking
to blame you,

and now that we got a lot
of free space in solitary,

my first reaction to any trouble
will be to ship your ass there.

- Wait a minute!

- Unless you become Alvarez's
new best friend.

Miguel.

We were just talking about you.

Guerra's got something
to say to you.

- Yeah.

You know...

You and me,
we started out as friends,

and even though a whole lot of
shit has come down since then...

I'm thinking maybe we could

be, uh, you know...

- Yeah, Chico.

[speaking Spanish]

- Yo tambien.

- Shake hands.

[gate buzzes]

[soft dramatic music]

♪ ♪

- Lights out.
Sweet dreams.

- I saw you and Alvarez
making nice.

Were you serious?

- The truth?

I don't know.

I've hated his guts
for so many years,

now I can't even
remember why.

And today I almost
got my throat cut.

That started me
thinking.

Enrique, you ever feel like
you've lost your appetite

for all of the bullshit?

- Yeah.

When my sister died
in that bus accident.

- That's right.

You were talking peace
and patience back then.

What happened?

- Oz.

Oz is what happened.

Fucking Oz.

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- Now the Italians,
they got a whole 'nother way

of thinking about
life after death.

This Dante dude describes hell
as a series of little circles

where sinners are tormented
by a punishment

that reflects their crime.

Flatterers are buried up
to their necks in shit.

Lawyers wear clothes
that never stop itching.

Just think on it.

What would be the one thing
that would torture you

for all of eternity.

Your mother-in-law?

Britney Spears' singing?

For me,

it'd be a big pair of tits

just hanging out of my reach.

Damn!

- [chuckles]
[gate buzzes]

♪ ♪

- Count!

- Let's go!
- [groans]

[indistinct shouting]

[grunts]

Morning, Bob.

Bob?

You feeling any better?

Hmm.

- Redding, Burns.

Number 0-1-R-2-8-9.

Rebadow, Robert.

Number 6-5-R-8-1-4.

Busmalis,
where's Rebadow?

- Grief's like a wave.
You've gotta ride it out.

and as badly as you feel now,
I can tell you,

you're in better shape
than you were

the day your grandson died.

- That's hard for me to accept
because

the sadness I feel
keeps morphing.

This morning,
or should I say last night

since I barely sleep,
I became consumed with the fact

that the Rebadow name will die.

I was the only son.
My son is my only child.

His son was his only child.

After we're gone,
the family will become extinct

like some species of insect
destroyed by pollution.

My pollution.

- I--I don't know why
we have such a thing

about passing on our names.

As if that somehow
justifies our existence.

- My grandson's illness
filled up so much of my time,

so much of my heart.

His death has left an emptiness.

- You need to keep busy,
you know.

Focus on your job.

You like working
in the dress factory, don't you?

- No, not at all.

The thought of hearing
the hideous hum

of those machines
day in and day out.

- Okay, I'll transfer you.

Where would you prefer
to punch the clock?

- I'm not--

I love to read.

The library?

- So that's what's allocated
in the current budget.

- Can you get more?

- I can try.
[knocks on door]

- Leo?
- Tim.

Meet the new head librarian,
Stella Coffo.

Tim McManus.
- Hello.

- Hi.

I heard you two
were having a meeting.

- Stella comes to us from Boston

where she worked
in the public library system

for 16 years.

- Yeah, I gotta admit
I'm a little curious

as to why you're here.

- You mean why leave
the comfort of Boston

for the wilds of Oswald?

Well, it's simple,
I love to read,

and if I can get the men in
this prison to pick up a book,

maybe their lives will be
changed in some small way.

- Admirable goal.
Tough task.

- Well, I'm from the North End.

To me, "no" only means
"try harder."

- Oh, good.

Um, look, I--I hate to do this
on your first day,

but I need a favor.

- Sure, anything.

- Uh, There's a prisoner
named Rebadow.

[bell ringing]

- Here goes.

Well, first in line.

I guess you heard the
John Grisham finally arrived.

- Oh, I don't read that tripe.

- Sorry, I didn't mean
to offend you.

- You Mrs. Coffo?

- Miss Coffo, actually.

- Name's Rebadow.

I've been assigned
to work with you.

But I'm no acolyte.

I know where every decimal
in the Dewey System is.

Ask me which shelf a book is on,
I'll point to it.

- Excellent.

I should warn you, though,

I'm not gonna sit on my ass and
wait for the men to come to me.

I want to identify the ones
who have no interest in reading,

the ones who maybe
don't even know how to read.

I want to put a book
in their hands,

and finding the right book
is the key.

That's where
I'm gonna lean on you.

- You have my full support.

- Do you have a first name,
Mr. Rebadow?

- Robert.

Though most of the jokers
in Oz call me Bob.

- Well,
I'll call you Robert then,

and you can call me Stella.

I'm very pleased
to have you on board.

[soft dramatic music]

♪ ♪

- Hey, Cyril, we're meeting
with your new lawyer today.

Some big hotshot
that Meehan found.

- Can I come with you now?

- No, not yet,
but soon, all right?

- Sound awful optimistic there,
O'Reily.

- I'm trying, Keller,
but optimism isn't exactly my--

what's the word I'm looking for?
Forte.

-Yo, can I get
some fucking food?

- Eat that,
you hairy bitch.

- Hey, everyone.

Meet the new member
of our clubhouse.

- Kirk, you fucking cocksucker!

You should be dead,
you little fucking prick!

- Don't be angry, Jaz-man.

It's not your fault
that I'm alive.

The truth is,
I can't die.

- Bullshit.
Just give me another chance.

- Won't do any good.
I can't die.

- Yeah, why is that, pumpkin?

- Because...

I am Satan,

and Satan will never die.

- Good morning, Pete.

- Ray.

Oh, boy.
[both chuckle]

I'm so glad you're back.
- Thank you.

I would say
I'm happy to be back,

but I'm not sure yet.

- There's something
you should know.

Timothy Kirk has been
transferred to death row

and he's asked to see you.

- No chance.
- Alright, now look.

- Pete, two of the priests
from my parish

were burned alive in that fire.

A fire that Kirk arranged
and paid for

out of spite and malice.

- In a few weeks,
he's going to be executed.

He may need
to make peace with you.

His soul--
- His soul will rot in hell.

- Ray, only God can decide that.

♪ ♪

- Uh-oh, Holy Ghost on deck.

- Say hello, Jericho.

Hello, father.

- Yo, Mukada.

Look at that fucking jizzball
sitting there.

I'm gonna fucking kill you,
cocksucker.

- Thank you so much
for the meeting.

- Don't get used to it.

- I have to talk fast,
before he comes back.

- Who?
Lopresti?

- Satan.

Father, look,
I know that you hate me

and I know that I've committed
all these horrible acts,

but it's not me
who's done them.

I am possessed by the devil.

- Stop.
- I am possessed,

and you are the only one
who can help me.

I need an exorcism.

- I said stop.

Do you think I can't see through
this little performance?

What, are you trying for an
insanity defense on your appeal?

- No, Father, please.
He's coming.

- By even suggesting
what you're suggesting,

you make a mockery
of my religion.

Goodbye, Kirk.

I'll see you the day you die.

- Mukada!

You can walk away,

but I'm not like
the Reverend Cloutier.

I won't just disappear.

♪ ♪

- We work with criminals.

We try to understand the reasons
why they broke the law

so we can help them.

We examine
the psychological elements,

the sociological,

we consider
their family backgrounds,

environments, addictions,
blah, blah, blah.

Usually there's an answer,
if not a cure.

But sometimes we come
face-to-face with a larger,

more stunning reality.

We come face-to-face

with pure evil.

And we are powerless.

I believe that Kirk has
no hope for salvation.

He is pure evil.

- I don't disagree that
there's evil in the world.

I do disagree that
we're powerless against it.

Ray, you and I have
dedicated our lives

to overcoming evil through love.

God's love.
[knocks on door]

- Come in.

- Hello, Ray.

- Oh, Monsignor.

Sister Peter Marie,
this is Monsignor Slon,

vicar general
of the archdiocese.

- How do you do?
- Nice to meet you, Sister.

I'm sorry to interrupt,

but this is a matter
of some importance.

- Well, I have a session.
Pleasure.

- Can I get you
some tea or...?

- No, thanks.
Uh, let's sit.

- Sure.

How's Cardinal Abgott?

- Troubled,
and that's why I've come.

His Eminence received
a letter yesterday

from a prisoner here at Oswald.
Timothy Kirk.

- Monsignor,
you've gotta understand

there's a lot of history
between Kirk and me.

- So it seems.

Ray, Kirk claims you
sexually abused him.

- What?

- These are dicey times,

and even though Kirk
is no parochial schoolboy,

the church can't afford either
spiritually or financially

to have any more
of our priests be suspect.

- Monsignor, Kirk is lying.

- I believe you.

So does the cardinal.

But if Kirk goes public
with his accusations,

we have to be ready.

Which is why,
until we investigate,

I'm suspending you.

We'll handle the investigation
as quickly as possible,

but as of this moment,
you are no longer allowed

to perform any functions
as a Catholic priest.

♪ ♪

I'm sorry, Ray.

- Pure evil.

♪ ♪

- I was very happy

with the variety show
you put together,

and I'm hoping
you'll produce another one.

- Oh, thank you, Leo.

Um, actually, I'd really like
to do more with the prisoners

than just singing and dancing,
so I was thinking Shakespeare.

"Macbeth."

- Sounds great.
- Yeah.

- Sounds expensive.
- No, not necessarily.

Because we would do
the production

in modern dress
with minimal scenery,

and that way the play
will be more accessible.

- Can you work up a budget?
- As a matter of fact...

[both chuckle]
We have one here.

Leo, I don't want this to get
bogged down in bureaucracy.

I'd like to start next week
holding auditions

and putting together a crew.

- You know,
the hardest part's gonna be

getting these jamokes
to participate.

- And that's why
we are so lucky

that we have you
for the motivation, Tim.

- [groans]
- [laughs]

- We're not looking
for Denzel Washington here.

The point is to give you
a place to channel your emotions

other than fighting
or heroin,

and not everyone has to be
in front of the footlights.

Suzanne needs a stage manager,

lighting, props, scenery,
the whole enchilada.

So I expect a strong
representation from Em City.

Get involved.

Chuckie, what about you?

- Plays are for fags.

- Miguel, Miguel.

Come on, this is a chance
to show everybody the new you.

- No, I think I'd be
a little embarrassed

to be in front of people.

-So, be a stage manager.

- What the fuck do they do?

- Boss everyone else around.

- Really?

Alright, I'm in, yeah.
- Okay, good.

Hey, how about props?

- "Here I have a pilot's thumb,

wracked as--as homeward
he did come."

- That's very good, Poet.

- What the fuck am I saying?

- [laughs]

- You are telling your friends
how you destroyed your enemy.

- Really?
- Yeah.

- A'ight.
[chuckles]

So in the real play,
can I get a real thumb?

- You got anybody in mind?

- Maybe yours, cheeseball.

- What'd you say, cum stain?
- Hey, hey...

- What?
- Settle the fuck down!

[tense music]

- How goes it, Ma?
- Well, if I could keep 'em

from killing each other
I think I've got all my actors,

except for Macbeth,

so I was thinking, Ryan--
- Sorry.

- Ryan, you'd be brilliant
in the part.

- I love you, Ma, but, uh-uh.
No way.

- Oh, you got no balls,
O'Whitey?

- I don't see you strutting
your stuff there, Pepe.

- Dick.
- Oh, come on, Ryan.

It could be fun.

I did the part once
at the C.Y.O.

Let's see now.
"Stay, you imperfect speakers,

"and tell me more.

"By Sinel's death
I am thane of Glamis,

"but how of Cawdor?

"The thane of Cawdor lives
a prosperous gentleman,

"and to be king stands not
within the prospect of belief.

"Say from whence you owe

"this strange intelligence?

Speak, I charge you!"

- Father Meehan,
that was excellent!

Now how would you
like to play Macbeth?

- Me?
- Yeah.

[buzzer sounds]
- Lights out.

Nighty-night, boys.

♪ ♪

- Amen.
- Well, it's about time.

- Ah, the power of prayer
is a wonderful thing, Ryan.

- You know, when I was a kid
I'd bend my knees and ask God

to stop Dad from beating on us.

God never answered his pager.

- A prayer's more
than asking for something.

It centers you,
gives you peace of mind.

Pray with me.
- [chuckles]

No, I figure between you,
Sister Pete, and Aunt Brenda,

I'm covered.

- It would give me profound joy

if someday you would join me
in prayer.

- Well, it would
give me profound joy

to fuck an 18-year-old virgin,

so save your lungs,
okay, Father?

- Naughty.

♪ ♪

- What you have to remember

is that this is about power.

You cannot let these people

take your power away from you.

Remember, Cyril,

you are the center

of the universe.

What the fuck you looking at?

♪ ♪

[intercom buzzes]

- So you're the new lawyer?

- Arnold Zelman.
- You want to explain to me

why my brother is still
sitting on death row?

Eight months ago,
the supreme court ruled that

executing the mentally retarded
was unconstitutional.

- Each state has the right
to determine for itself

how retarded is defined.

Our assemblymen
have been squabbling

over a definition all this time.

Yesterday, they finally managed
to reach an agreement.

- Which is?

- Well, basically
to qualify as retarded,

a person has
to have demonstrated

some sign of retardation
before the age of 18.

- 18?

But Cyril wasn't hit in the head
until his late 20s.

- Well, that's why
he can still be executed.

- Oh, fuck.

All right,
so what do we do next?

- Appeal Cyril's conviction.
At the first trial,

the prosecution was able
to make the case

that Cyril's attack
on Li Chen was premeditated.

- Yeah, but it wasn't.

- Well, in the appeal,
we have to prove it wasn't.

I'm going to start

by reinterviewing
all of the witnesses.

- Great.

Those fucks in Em City,
they got no reason to help me.

- All we need is one, Ryan.

♪ ♪

- Prisoner number 9-9-S-9-1-7,

Glen Shupe.

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

Convicted April 22nd, 1999,
manslaughter.

Sentence: 15 years,

up for parole in eight.

- Hey, Shupe, you need a hand?
[chuckles]

- Stay away from me!

- Oh, why you so testy, man?

- It's 'cause of you
I'm like this.

- Uh-uh, no way, not me.
Spics chopped you up.

- On your say-so.

Hello, Mom.
- Hup.

Look, whether I did or didn't
have anything to do with your--

what's the word
I'm looking for there, Glen?

Ah, disability, know this,

a lawyer's gonna be coming
around asking people questions

about the day
Li Chen got whacked

and unless you want to be
dialing with your nose,

you'd best tell him
what he wants to hear.

You got that,
you stupid bitch?

♪ ♪

- I'm here to talk about the day
Cyril O'Reily attacked Li Chen.

Now I know you've had
several conversations

with various
law enforcement officers,

prosecutors
and defense attorneys,

and I know you've testified

that you saw nothing
and know nothing

of the circumstances
surrounding Li's death,

but since I only recently
jumped onto this case,

I'm hoping you may--

- I know exactly what happened.

- You do?

- Ryan and Li had a scuffle.

A knife fell to the floor,
probably Li's knife,

and Cyril stabbed Li
spontaneously

to save his brother's life.

There was nothing premeditated
about Cyril's actions.

Nothing.
- Mr. Shupe,

have you talked
to anyone else recently

about these events?

I mean, has anyone prepped you?

- No, sir.

It's what I saw

and I wanna testify
to that in court.

- Do you know that you can get
five more years for perjury?

- Mr. Zelman,
I'm already serving 15.

I'm not afraid.

- So how's it going
interviewing the witnesses?

- So far, not so good.

- What about Shupe?

- He's not very credible.

- Shupe is a compulsive liar.

The irony is that this time,
he's telling the truth.

- Well, then use him.
- If I put Shupe on the stand,

the jury won't believe
a word he's saying.

He'll do more damage than good.

- So you'll find
a credible witness.

- I hope.
I'm down to my last few guys.

- So how, more rallies...
- What do we do next?

- Turn up the heat.
The press and the public

have shown a keen interest
in this case.

I'll use my contacts
to network.

[indistinct chatter]

♪ ♪

- Hey, Petey,
you out of the psych unit?

Did you work out
all your "inner demons"?

[chuckles]

- I heard something
from a very reliable source

yesterday, O'Reily.
- Oh, yeah?

What'd you hear?

- That you ground up glass
and put it in my father's food,

cut his insides up slowly.

You're responsible
for my father being dead.

- Well, what you heard is true,

except for one little detail.

Adebisi did the deed.
It wasn't me.

I was your father's friend.

Hey, who's your reliable source,
huh?

Some nut job
from the whack shack?

- Never mind.

I'll tell you who he is,
he's dead.

- Fair enough.

But what if what
you say is true?

Which it isn't.

What the fuck's
a little prag like you

gonna do about it anyhow, huh?

Now back the fuck away from me.

[sniffs]
You stink like anchovies.

[dramatic musical sting]

- I have to admit I'm stunned.

I've been trying for months to
get to you to visit your wife,

and now all of a sudden
you wanna see her?

- Well, like I said, Sister,
I'm feeling better about myself.

With you
and Father Meehan's help, I--

- I had a long talk
with Rosalie yesterday.

- But you didn't tell her
what happened to me, right?

- No, I'm just gonna
wait for you to find

the right time to tell her.

[soft dramatic music]

♪ ♪

- "A drum, a drum!

"Macbeth doth come.

[together] "The weird sisters,
hand in hand,

"posters of the sea and land,

"thus do go about, about.

"Thrice to thine
and thrice to mine,

"and thrice again
to make up nine.

"Peace!

The charm's wound up!"

- "So foul and fair a day
I have not seen."

- "How far is it called
to Forres?"

[bell rings]
- All right, shut up!

Time's up.

- But I barely got a line out.

- Tomorrow and tomorrow
and tomorrow, Agamemnon.

- Ah, here comes
another volunteer.

Mr. Peter Schibetta.
- Great.

Hello, Peter.
- Hi.

- Ryan could use some help
painting the scenery.

- No, I don't need any help.
Especially his.

- [chuckles wryly]

You know, I seen
this play in high school.

It's got all
these incantations, right?

- Right.
- We Sicilians,

we have our own version,
our own spells.

The evil eye.
My wife's grandmother,

she can give somebody evil eye
from a mile away.

I'm not saying the stuff works,
but who knows, right?

- I thought I told you
to back the fuck away.

- No problem, cuz.

No problem.

♪ ♪

- Ah, Ryan.

Look, I know you've done things

you're not
particularly proud of,

but sometimes
if you talk things through--

- Skip the preamble, Father.
What's on your mind?

- All right.
Peter Schibetta.

I've seen the way
you two look at each other.

The hostility.

- Schibetta's a corn hole.

- For god's sake, Ryan.

Will you knock off this bravado?

This--this--this bullshit?

Just for a moment.

I know you think you have
to be hard to survive here,

but there are other ways.

I've seen you with your brother,

there's love,
there's caring.

There's goodness in you.

Will you let that goodness rise

and be the man that
God meant you to be?

- How, Father?
- I'll help you.

And we'll start
with your laundry.

Now you think
you'd know by now

that if you don't
separate your laundry,

the colors will bleed.

♪ ♪

- In the Shona tribe in Africa,

the living communicate
with Mwari,

that's God,

through their dead ancestors,
the Vadzimu.

The Shona believe
that all around the living

there's an invisible community
of Vadzimu

watching and caring
for their descendants.

But there's also Ngozi,

evil spirits,

the wronged,
the neglected,

the murdered,

who avenge themselves
on a family

through sudden death.

♪ ♪

[thumps]

- Oh, Christ.

♪ ♪

Father!

Ah, God, Father,
what's the matter with you?

Father, what's the matter?

Father!

Father!
Shit.

Help!
Help!

Help!

Come here, help!

Help!

- Bring in that crash cart!

Four, five.

One, two, three, four, five.

Get the intubation tray.

[flatline]

[knocks lightly]

- How is he?

- Father Meehan's dead.

- Oh, fuck.

- An aneurysm.

He died almost immediately.

- How did it happen?

- Who knows?

We'll do an autopsy,

try to figure out the cause,
but...

- But he'll still be dead,
right?

- And yet, of all the ways
he could have died in Oz,

God chose the most peaceful.

- [scoffs]
Yeah, right.

You know when I found Father
Meehan lying on the floor,

he'd taken a shit
in his underwear.

So what does that tell you
about us human beings?

That the last thing we do
before we die is shit?

- Ryan, have some respect
for the man.

- I do!

You know,
a couple of Sundays ago at mass,

he read the part of the Gospel

where after Jesus
was pulled off the cross

his friends took the body down
and they washed it.

I'd like to do that.

I'd like to wash
Father Meehan's body.

- Uh, I don't know.

- Please.

He wanted me to pray with him,
but I never did.

Despite all that he tried to do
for me and Cyril.

I...I owe the man this much.
Please.

- ♪ Ah see, now preacher
you ought to be there ♪

- Our father who art in heaven,
hallowed be they name...

- ♪ Sitting in God's kingdom ♪

♪ To see old Jordan roll ♪

♪ Roll ♪

♪ Jordan roll oh yeah ♪

♪ Roll ♪

♪ Jordan roll ♪

♪ I want to get to heaven ♪

♪ When I die ♪

♪ To see old Jordan roll ♪

♪ Now brother ♪

♪ You ought to have been there ♪

♪ Sitting in God's kingdom ♪

♪ To see old Jordan roll ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah ♪

- Gonna ruin your eyes
reading all that small print.

- They're law books.

Small print's the best part.

- Working on an appeal?

- Yeah.

Not for me.
For Chris Keller.

I'm trying to overturn
his death sentence.

I've got my dad
working on the case too.

- You're a lawyer?

- Used to be.

- Mail call!

- What you got for me there,
Winthrop?

- Uh, "Newsweek"
and "Field and Stream".

- Where's my "Swank"?

- It got a little manhandled
in the mail room.

Hey there, Beecher.

Enjoying life in Unit "J"?

- Beats bobbing for apples
with the Aryans.

[both grunting]

[dramatic music]

- Get off him, Beecher.
Come on!

Break it up!
Break it up!

- What'd you expect?

You got Schillinger
sent to solitary.

- For raping you.

- I told you
I can take care of myself.

I have plans.

- What plans?

- Have a nice visit
with your kids.

- How'd you know
my kids were coming?

Winthrop!

♪ ♪

- In a vote of six to one,

we've decided
to release you from solitary

with the understanding

that if you attempt
another rape,

you will be sent back there
permanently.

- Let me guess.

Sister, you were
the one dissenting vote?

- Take him to Unit "B".

[tense jazzy music]

- [grunts]

That was nice, prag.

- May--may I speak, sir?

- Yeah--well,
wipe your mouth first.

- I...

I come from pure Aryan blood.

I have an education.

I can be of better use to you
than this.

- You want to join
the brotherhood?

- Yes.

- Well, that'd be unusual.

Usually a bitch
is a bitch is a bitch.

- I have a plan.

- That Ivy League mind at work?

- If Beecher gets hurt
before his parole hearing,

you go into solitary forever,
am I right?

- Yeah.

- Yet revenge on that scumfuck
is all you can ever think about.

Am I right?

- Your point?

- I'll kill Beecher's father.

- What?
- I'll cover my tracks,

pay off the CO's,
and if I'm caught,

I'll take sole blame.

I can kill him--
I will kill him,

if you promise me an upgrade.

- Done.

[bell ringing]

- My son, Harry,
is coming here today.

It's the first time
I'll be seeing him in six years.

- Six years?
- Yeah.

After my wife died,

my parents took the two oldest
and Genevieve's parents,

they took Harry, the baby,
to live with them in San Diego.

- Well, why haven't
you seen Harry in so long?

- You know, everybody figured
it was for the best.

- Horseshit.

A child belongs with his father,

even if his father is
behind bars.

- Hello, son.
- Dad.

- Oh.

- Where are the kids?

- I--I need to talk to you.

- Guess I'll take a nap.

Wake me up for shuffleboard.

- Genevieve's parents
have been staying with us

for the past week.
[chuckles wryly]

Well, it was awkward at first,

but Jonah and Margaret
have been working very hard

to be--well,
to be a family again,

to ease Harry
back into your life.

- And?

- Well, they're waiting
in the parking lot.

Harry won't get out of the car.

- [sighs]

Oh, no.

- Son, son.

He's six years old.

He's terrified.

His crying is upsetting Holly.

- It's okay, don't force him.

- We'll try again tomorrow.

- No.
No.

[stammers]

Let's just hold off, okay?

My parole hearing's on Thursday.

If I get paroled,

I can see him at home.
- Are you sure?

- Yes, I can wait.

[quietly]
I can wait.

It's just a couple more days.

- Right.

This time I know
the parole board

is going to let you out.
I know it !

In the bottom of my heart,
I know that you will be free.

- [chuckles]

So, uh...

tell me,
how does he look, my son?

- Oh, well...
[chuckles]

Like his father.

- [exhales sharply]

He has his mother's eyes.

[sighs, chuckles softly]

So you're going to see Chris
to talk about the appeal, right?

- Yes.

[buzzer sounding]

- Will you give him my love?

[soft dramatic music]

♪ ♪

- Our current strategy
is to focus

on the credibility
of the prosecution's eyewitness.

Uh...
- Jerry Heekin.

- We've just discovered that

he'd been arrested twice
for dealing crack cocaine.

- How come my other
motherfucking lawyer

didn't know that?

- Well, like the kids say,
he sucked.

- [chuckling]

Gotta calm down there,
Mr. Beecher.

Gum?
- No, thank you.

- You don't like me, do you?

- [exhales]
That's beside the point.

I don't have to like you
to defend you.

And my son--
- Loves me.

That bother you?

- Yes.

- That he loves a man
or that he loves me?

- We're finished for the day.

- Your Honor,
please instruct the witness

to answer the question.

- All right.

I find you despicable.

Happy?

- Just another notch in my gun.

- The trial
of Mayor Wilson Loewen

continued today at
the Bankhead State Courthouse.

Loewen was indicted
for his involvement

in the 1963 murder

of two 10-year-old
African-American girls.

Prosecutors alleged that Loewen,

who was the Jackson County
sheriff at the time,

aided and abetted

members of the Ku Klux Klan
in the brutal slaying.

[ominous music]

♪ ♪

- I beg your pardon.

Guard!

Guard!
Guard!

Guard!
Oh!

No!
Ah!

[grunting, moaning]

No.

[groans, breathing heavily]

♪ ♪

- These are live images
from the east side of the city.

Looting and burning have
continued for several hours,

sparked
by Governor James Devlin's

off-the-record comment

that he would pardon
Wilson Loewen

if the mayor is convicted.

[indistinct shouting]
- First, let me announce

that we have put
the National Guard on alert,

though I sincerely hope

there'll be no need
to activate it.

Let me stress that violence,
especially rioting...

- We cannot lose control here.
I want the prison locked down.

- It never solved anything.
- Now go on.

- The only thing that's
got me more confused

than the rioting itself
is the reason for it.

I am an innocent man,

and yet you are destroying
your stores, your cars,

your neighborhoods,
all based on hearsay

With regards to a verdict
that not only has yet passed,

but that will ultimately...
- Stay calm

and preferably indoors.
- My brothers and sisters,

we must stop the violence
on our streets.

- I have spent my life trying
to make it a better place...

- By rioting, by looting,
by destroying...

- And my heart breaks
to see my city being torn down.

- We are doing more
to damage our community

than Mayor Loewen has.
- I am an innocent man....

- There's no victory to be won

when we address hate with hate.

Let us take back our city
with love...

- ♪ Oh see now preacher ♪

♪ You ought to been there ♪

♪ Sitting in God's kingdom ♪

♪ To see old Jordan roll ♪

♪ I seen her roll ♪

♪ Oh Jordan roll ♪

♪ Roll Jordan roll ♪

♪ I wanna get to heaven ♪

♪ When I die ♪

♪ Yeah ♪

♪ To see ♪

♪ Old Jordan roll ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah ♪

[chuckles]

Rest in peace.

[tense jazzy music]

♪ ♪

♪ ♪