Small Axe (2020–…): Season 1, Episode 4 - Alex Wheatle - full transcript
Alex Wheatle follows the true story of award-winning writer, Alex Wheatle (Sheyi Cole), from a young boy through his early adult years. Having spent his childhood in a mostly white ...
MUFFLED CHATTER
KEY CLICKS IN LOCK
KEYS RATTLE
Follow.
To the right. Stop there.
DOOR ENTRY BUZZES
To the right.
And right.
Stop there.
KEYS RATTLE IN LOCK
In.
Stinks in here...
Come in, my youth.
Come in, man.
Cha.
Me name's Simeon.
It was Alex, don't it?
You want a tea, or
something fi drink?
The bottom bunk is mine, yeah?
For the proximity to the shitter.
Boy, me 'dep on hunger strike
and me belly bad.
I'm sorry about the smell, still,
but dem things soon pass, man.
I'll give you a little space, yeah?
Anything you want,
just...just help yourself.
Ah! Do you want to end up in hell?
Is that what you want?
Cos that's precisely
what's going to happen
if you carry on playing up!
Now, I know you've been fighting!
You get up them stairs and wash them
dirty little hands before dinner!
And you go straight to bed!
I don't want to hear
a word from you tonight,
you understand? Yes, Auntie.
OFFICIAL: Alec Alphonso Wheatle,
born on 3rd January 1963.
Alphonso, an illegitimate child,
was received into care under section
one of the Children's Act 1948
on 17th April 1964
as the private foster mother,
with whom he was placed
by his putative father, was unable
to continue caring for him.
His mother, Mrs G, a married woman,
deserted him at birth.
He was placed
in a council nursery initially
and transferred in February 1966
to the children's home
where he is now living.
On admission,
he was suffering from severe eczema,
but this has improved
and he is making good progress.
Alphonso's mother has had no contact
with him since birth.
DIARRHOEA SPLATTERS
SIMEON SIGHS
SPLATTERING CONTINUES
Ah! Jah...
Nice! Jah!
BOY: Wheatle's wet his bed again.
Auntie!
Shut up! You dirty little bastard!
Ow!
As if I don't do enough for you.
I am sick to death
of your disgusting behaviour.
HE MUMBLES
What have I done to deserve you?
You are a horrible,
nasty little boy!
ALEX COUGHS
DIARRHOEA SPLATTERS
SIMEON SIGHS
SPLATTERING CONTINUES
SIMEON GROANS
Jah!
How many fucking times, dread?!
You can't use the shitter in the
yard instead of
stinking up this place?!
Me not proud, you know, youth.
Me say sorry once and I say it
again. Dirty fucking Rasta!
You're lucky I don't fuck you up.
Fuck me up? You'd better
fuck me up good, you know.
Anyhow you left me standing,
you finish your life.
Joker, dread.
As if you could do me.
Listen!
ALEX GROANS
Calm yourself, youth!
Calm yourself!
What me say? Huh?
Listen, listen. Calm yourself.
All right, all right, all right.
All right, my youth. All right, man.
All right, all right.
Listen, man. I want to hear.
What is your story?
My story?! What?
I ain't got no fricking story!
All right. All right.
All right. All right. All right.
All right. Listen.
ALEX WHINES
Have all night, you know.
HE SCREAMS
All night me have,
and my ears is fully open.
Huh? So just start at the beginning.
ALEX WHIMPERS
MUSIC: Satta Massagana
by The Abyssinians
What do you call it?
Reggae music.
What, the song?
Nah, not the song.
Why, you like it?
I love it.
Turn that coon wog crap off!
We ain't in Africa now!
What you gonna do, fool?
Don't worry about him.
Listen to the lyrics, man.
Cool down your temper.
HE IMITATES AN APE
I'm not scared of that dickface.
Shut your mouth before
I fill it for you!
Wheats, back down!
Fight! Fight! Wheats, have him.
Fucking have him! Go on.
He's stuck, man.
Oi, get off him!
Teachers, teachers, teachers!
Get off me!
Get off me!
Oi! Oi!
Fuck's sake!
Fucking kill you!
Fuck off
and take that shit music with you!
Get him out of here!
Don't make it worse
for yourself. Shut up!
Come here, you. Come here!
Stay there, monkey!
WISTFUL MUSIC
RADIO PRESENTER: Our castaway this
week is a writer of short stories,
of children's books
and of screenplays - Roald Dahl.
Could you adjust yourself
to isolation on an island?
ROALD DAHL: Very easily, yes.
I look for it more and more
in my life today.
I hate to say it,
but I would love it.
How much does music mean to you?
It means a great deal, but not
in a...not in a professional way.
In the old days,
before I was married,
I never used to start
writing in the morning
before putting on
some very great music,
like a Beethoven quartet,
er, and sit and listen to it
in...in the hopes
that some of this greatness
would rub off on me
and that I would, er, write...
As a matter of fact, it helps quite
a lot because it is impossible...
MUSIC: Everyday Wondering
by Johnny Clarke
INDISTINCT CHATTER
Shut the gate.
These are your keys.
Don't lose them.
These are the rules. Learn them.
Any questions?
Good.
DOOR OPENS
Fuck my frigging days!
Man seen boy fall from outer space
looking less like him
claffy to raatid.
Wha...? What? A blowoh!
No tomfoolery.
Are you cuckoo or are you the beast?
Dennis, behave yourself.
HE SUCKS TEETH
The man is only ramping with you.
Don't listen to his chats.
I'm Dawn.
My room's just over there.
It's...Alex, innit?
You're seriously busting PVC?
Frig my days, he is!
He's wearing PVC!
From where on this Earth did you
land? Shirley Oaks. In Surrey.
Surrey?
And they dress you there
with garms made by the farm animals?
HE LAUGHS
You got any corn?
You got...any...corn?
I've got some Pot Noodle
they sent me off with.
Oh, God! Oh, Lord!
BOTH LAUGH
Who the...?
Who the fuck is this boy?
Eh? Money, man.
Money.
Corn is money.
You got money?
Why? Leave him money alone.
I just want to take the poor sap
shopping, innit?
Otherwise next man will jump on him
and mash up his claat.
Don't worry about the corn, Mr PVC.
And just meet me outside in two.
And just lose the jacket.
You understand? You see that?
He's hearing, but he's not
listening, you know. Just get out!
Now, crook ya ear, Mr PVC.
Whatever man say,
never trod into Dunn & Co.
That's where them
dirty greybacks shop.
I ain't ramping, you understand?
This is serious.
You see that? That's Farah.
Like what I is modelling.
Anything Farah is on target.
Jah! You're not ready yet.
And we have a priority more pressing
than slacks.
Come, come. Let's trod.
Soon come, brethren. Soon come.
Hm?
HE CHUCKLES
A blowout Afro him want. A blowout.
Him speak? Of course him speak.
Just give him a blowout now.
Man have to ask if
he want a blowout.
All right.
Alex, tell him you want a blowout.
I want one.
A blowout, yes.
Absolutely. I want one.
HE LAUGHS
So, what you say?
Don't start pon me, dread.
So many youth get bust up in a cell.
Something gonna snap, man.
You hear what happened
to Coffin Head? Mm-hm.
Beastman arrest him
outside the Kentucky,
throw him in a cell, bruk up him
nose and boot up him ribcage.
Fi what?
Man, a man want life for life.
That's what the Brixton
Panther man say, innit?
Things are gonna blow up.
You hear what blow up?
Filthy Rocker's valve amplifier
in the dance.
People was vexed.
Galdem on the street
cussing up the boxboys,
but they can't get no cab
to take them to the next dance.
You follow any of the sound system?
I do love reggae music.
Waaah! See, all the African man
love reggae.
What is in our blood.
I'm not African. Come again?
I'm not African, I'm...
Uh, dread, you is African.
I'm not. I might be black,
but I'm from Surrey.
Oh, God! Bwoy! Him
cuss-cuss in here.
Babylon have you washed.
Babylon have your brain
in the Fairy Liquid.
HE SUCKS TEETH
Who's Babylon?
Where'd you get this youth from?
And what this youth chatting about?
"Who's Babylon?"
Babylon not a person.
It's de politrickster and the system
that oppresses all black people.
So where is it on the map?
HE LAUGHS
Man just arrive in Brixton today.
Or just Planet Earth, I don't know.
Bwoy, you have to find your roots.
Alexander the Great Jokerman.
Boy, you have to find out
who the fuck you is!
HE SUCKS TEETH
KNOCKING ON WINDOW
Yes, I.
All right? Hail Selassi-I.
All right.
HE CHUCKLES
HE SUCKS TEETH
What's wrong? Beast.
Get ready to bolt. What? Why?
What you doing, man?
You seriously are frigging cuckoo!
You can't do that! Do what?
Fuck with the beast round here.
They'll mash you worse than
any bad man.
No, they won't. What?
They're here to help you.
What?! Yes, they will.
They will too, Wheats.
Them truncheon butt de sufferer.
On this I really ain't ramping, man.
About to chip for my life.
About to run, man.
Well, I can't run in these shoes.
I've got really bad blisters.
Floyd call it correct.
You is a jokerman.
Come, come, let's trod.
You like them shoes there?
Yeah. Try it on, man.
All right, you'll look cool
in those, mate. Yeah, man.
Mm. That's it.
How do they feel? Yeah, good, but...
Comfortable? Yeah, but...
Yeah, all right, all right.
All right, blow, man.
What? What did you say?
Fucking leg it, Wheatle!
But I haven't tied my laces yet!
Oi! Where you going? Oi! Come here!
MUSIC: Zion
by The Flames
Cup your hand. Cup your hand.
It make your mouth dry,
but give you a nice, slow buzz.
I have smoked before, you know.
Mm? So give me three quid
and the rest of the collie yours.
Yeah, man.
Come, come.
Let's trod.
Wa-gwaan?
MUSIC CONTINUES
Can I give you 7p tomorrow
when I get my giro?
Nah, youth.
How many time me have to tell you?
Return tomorrow.
It'll be gone by then.
Come on, Lincoln.
I spend all my money
in here every week.
Please!
Dennis! Hey, Dennis. Hi, man.
What happen to you, man?
Don't use me name, dread.
Who's selling the weed, then?
Why have you made
the frigging announcement, man?
What wrong with you, eh?
HE SUCKS TEETH
Come.
Come, let's trod, man.
Careful of the car, Dennis.
Shut up, man. Come.
All right, me dog. You good?
Me cool. Yeah, man,
yeah, man, yeah, man.
Can I have a draw, please?
Yo, where the fuck
this youth come from?
Him cool, man. Him safe.
I have some corn.
Yo, yo, yo. Listen.
You know how many man get jook up
on this road for little more
than nothing? Eh?
HE SUCKS TEETH
Yo, remove ya.
Me said remove ya!
Badger. You known me from time, man.
Give my spar a £2 draw
and be happy for the business.
Hm?
Him safe, man.
HE SUCKS TEETH
Only cos true you is my brethren.
Respect, man.
Come.
WHISPERS: Here's the money.
Respect.
All right, now the two
of you fuck off.
HE SUCKS TEETH
You got to be more Brixton, Wheats.
You been here six month,
and you not learn nothing?
Like blurting out my name for every
undercover beast to take note.
HE SUCKS TEETH
What am I supposed to call you,
then?
Maybe dread, or brethren, or spar,
or...
I don't fucking know.
And you want to let go
of that frigging bumpkin walk, too.
You walk like that
scarecrow on the TV.
Shut up.
Nah, you have to strut
as a black man strut.
Any dread can spot you from a mile.
Now, we have to chat
about the money side, but...
..I can learn you a few things.
I've just spent all my corn.
If me a teach you, me have to
have compensation for my time.
You understand.
I've got 30p.
30p?
That is satisfactory
for a few pointers.
Now walk.
Lift up your head, man,
and slow it down, Wheats.
You is marching like you
the Stormtrooper hunting the Jedi.
You got to be the Jedi doing
the hunting of the Stormtrooper.
What are you blinking talking about?
You sound like them raas baldhead,
man.
"What are you blinking talking
about?" Well, fuck you, Dennis!
I ain't had no-one teach me
jack shit in my life.
A mum or dad, brother or sister,
no-one my whole life.
I ain't had nobody!
Was only ramping with you, brethren.
The truth?
I can't know how deep your pain.
You're the real thing, man.
No hyping.
But I always kept eyes out for you,
innit, Wheats?
Listen to me.
Christmas soon pon us,
and my mother puts on
a serious spread.
You want to come sample
the Jamaican jam on the day?
I don't like Christmas. Wha?!
Nuff boiled chicken, rice and peas,
roast potatoes, stuffing,
hot corn...
All right, all right. As long as
you quiet your beak about it.
You'll come? Yeah?
HE LAUGHS
I'm warning you -
all my family are a bit...
..mad up.
It'll be good for you.
Now, me reckon me owe you 10p
off this lesson.
You was proving be
a faster learner, too, Wheats.
But I...I'll hold onto that,
because that's going to be 20p
for your next lesson, innit?
It's like a little deposit, yeah?
Head high.
Chest out.
# Jah would never give power
# To a baldhead
# Run come crucify the dread... #
Hey!
Hurry up, man.
Happy Christmas, Mummy.
You just come?
Where you been? Food cook long time.
Hi, Sylvia.
This is my spar, Alex.
Fix him up a drink first, eh?
Is me for fix it? Thirsty boy.
Jah.
Come. Sit down.
Everybody, this is Alex.
Can you hold the baby?
So, are your parents Jamaican?
I don't think so, no.
What do you mean, you don't
think so? Where they from, then?
SHE SUCKS TEETH
Anyway...
..give me the baby.
Very cold start. Tell me
how the garage is going.
The garage is going good, family.
I got a Cortina I just picked up
last week.
All right, that's good.
I need you to come round,
help me do some work on it.
Yeah. How's your football going?
BABY CRIES
I heard about it. 4-0 you lot lose.
I was in goal as well.
DENNIS: Hold that.
Secret family recipe, you know.
All right, Uncles?
What's going on, Uncle? You good?
Yeah, man.
Can't wait to have some yam.
Who want food, come now.
Hey!
CHATTER CONTINUES
Guys, come get your food.
Coming, Auntie. Coming, Mum.
My mother give me one piece
of chicken, man.
HE SUCKS TEETH
How much piece of chicken
did you get?
Got a nice piece there. You got one?
Two piece. You got two piece?!
Yeah, man. What?!
Come out of my seat, man.
Come out of seat, boy.
Move.
You want more gravy?
Is it spicy?
You nuh like spice? It's all right,
me can get you some drink from the
tray. No. No, thank you.
It looks delicious.
What happen to you? Take your time.
The food no have no legs.
Your mother not cook for you?
Sometimes.
Sometime?
Sometime me no know why me bother.
DISTANT CHATTER
WATER RUNS
Me 'dep on hunger strike.
Ten days now, you know. Hm.
If they can serve halal and kosher,
they must can serve ital.
Huh?
Me believe fighting
for that is worth all sufferation.
But, bwoy, it wreak havoc
with my belly, you know?
And for that, me sorry till me
can't sorry no more, my youth.
Why are you even here, dread?
I was arrested at the gates
of Westminster Abbey
with a pickaxe, big so.
Me tell the judge
me intent upon destroying
the tomb of Edward the Confessor
in retaliation for the desecration
of all of the Egyptian king
by the European man.
Me gonna bruk it up!
He give me six months.
So, you're serious about your stuff,
then, innit?
Rasta is not...is not a religion.
Is my life.
What are you writing?
Why you ask me that?
No reason.
Me write some.
Just notes, man.
I don't really have the talent.
What me blessed with
is for the love of reading.
Reading's what shaped my life.
Is that your family?
Yeah. The woman in the white dress
are me mother.
The minister's sister.
Keep in touch?
Not for a long while now, no.
HE SUCKS TEETH
Cha.
Enough about me now.
Me never suffer like you, you know.
You know how me end up
in a prison, right?
So, come on, youth, man,
what happened to you?
I took a wrong turn. No, man.
Listen up now.
Not one man, woman or a child
ever learnt anything in life
without making a mistake.
For me, it was always
about the music.
That was it, dread.
# One good ting about the music
# When it hits you
You feel no pain, yeah
# Me say one good ting
about the music
# When it hits you, you feel no pain
# Come and say hit me with music
# Come and say hit me with music now
# Cos dis a Trenchtown rock
Don't watch that Trenchtown rock
# Big fish or sprat, Trenchtown rock
# You reap what you sow
Trenchtown rock
# Only Jah-Jah know. #
Jah know the gong speak!
Yeah, my youth. Come here, man!
HE LAUGHS
Yes, my youth?
Have corn for this,
but not this one.
Can you keep it for me,
just for a couple of days?
Irie. You have until Friday. Safe.
Respect, Lincoln. Respect.
You is too fat.
You can't see how you need church?
Fat stinkin' dog. You is a... You...
You is a scrawny little rat boy,
you know that?
You not see how your trouser,
them a burst out? Look how your head
big like breadfruit, dog.
Big like breadfruit?
You know what? You look like
some sewer rat, you know.
You know that?
Dog, you is the fattest man
in Brixton. You know that?
And guess what?
Me still take your girl, you know.
You know that? You can't take my
girl. I can't? Ask her. You can only
take my girl McDonald, dog.
And what? That's...
Listen, you is a sausage dog.
Brethren, you see your nose?
You're like Blackwall Tunnel or
something like that, you know what
me say? You is a dumpling.
I'll squash you, brethren. I destroy
you. You is a Jamaican panda.
A Jamaican panda?
Shut the fuck up, man,
before me chop off your two lip,
them, and make two imitation sausage
out of them to raatid! Say it.
Me? Yes, fatman.
You must be mad, you know.
I'm not mad, you is just fat.
Frig my days!
Valentine Golding.
Come find you, innit?
Welcome, sir.
What, you did all this? Mm-hm.
Check my new suitcase.
Philips 423?
Dread, how you lay your hands
on this record?
Spent every penny of my G-cheques.
Me sometimes keep a look out
for the bad men up on the line
to make a little extra corn.
Can still run fast, innit?
And the beast never
seem to bother me.
Check this.
Corn is money.
Ooh! Hey, that's the skills
man have to have.
Yes, man.
I knew it.
You ain't changed. I have.
A little bit.
You're mad, you know that, right?
Ah, shut up.
LAUGHTER
The leg-back's mine, you know,
brethren.
Where's mine, man?
I keep telling you.
You're not ready, man.
Today's going to be the best night,
I swear to God.
Mind yourself, dog.
Dat's Festus Coxsone's operator.
You telling me, brethren.
Careful, man. Careful.
That's how much leg-back
are going to be in there,
brethren, with that bass, man.
Man, there's going to be
every type of girl here.
Girl from North London.
South London. West London.
South-east London.
LAUGHTER
Bruh!
Me gone.
Yo, baby, yo.
Hold on. Whoa, whoa, whoa.
1.50 for coming in.
What you mean?
Give me 1.50 to come in, otherwise
fuck off. Move from the door.
Man, fuck this.
All the criss girls
are with the sound man.
To get dem leg-back is simple.
HE SUCKS TEETH
Yeah.
We need our own sound.
That's it.
That's right, man.
But we have to make it proper.
That's crucial.
Of course, dread.
To raatid.
We can call our sound
Crucial Rocker Sound System.
Crucial Rocker.
Crucial Rocker, to raatid, yeah.
To raatid.
HE CHUCKLES
But we haven't got any equipment.
Ah, don't worry.
Me know where.
ELECTRIC SAW WHIRS
Thank you, Dawn.
In tune to the great boss sound
of Crucial Rocker,
flash up your lighter. Easy.
We want to have at least 100 watts
a channel in the amp.
Then we can be nuff match for Tupper
King and all them dreadheads.
We thieved enough ply for at least
three boxes. But you ain't got
nothing to put in them.
What a blowoh!
We never had nothing to start with.
Watch, this sound is going to
be wicked and wild. Trust me.
# Wicked and wild
# That's the sound
of the underground
# See me there in a Brixton town
# Give the beastman
a crucial pound... # Eh!
Crucial, crucial!
# Wicked and wild
# That's the sound
of the underground
# Give the beastman
a crucial pound... #
GRUNTING
Fuck my days!
Get in!
Get in. 12, 12.
DOG BARKS
Frig, man!
There's a dog. There's a dog!
Hurry up! Move, man, move!
Move, move!
Hurry up, man!
Fuck it!
I'm here to see Cutlass.
Is Cutlass there?
Mr Rankin, I mean.
And what if him is?
Him might want chat
a likkle business.
Wholesale business.
Youth?
I've come to talk business.
Take off your clothes.
What?
Take off your clothes.
Take off your brief.
I ain't carrying no wire, dread.
I ain't no undercover beast.
Who control Moa Ambessa sound?
Beres.
Who are the mic men, then,
fi Frontline International?
Welton Youth and Silver Fox.
Who run tings down the Villa Road?
Soferno B.
Who operate the sound?
Big Youth.
But some man call him Chabba.
All right.
Still me question your dialect.
Your accent sound too English.
But all right, my youth.
How much collie you want?
Half ounce, dread.
But the brethrens I sell to
smoke top-ranking bush.
LAUGHTER
You know the runnings!
What name dem call you, my youth?
My friends call me Wheats.
My sound is going to be
called Crucial Rocker.
Irie a'ight, Crucial Rocker!
HE LAUGHS
Next time you want to make
your order, no forward here.
Call this number.
Pull up your brief now.
Youth!
I like your jacket.
CUTLASS LAUGHS
Crucial Rocker!
Big Wheats, me no have no weed left,
so me need 3oz, all right?
3oz, and just come link me back next
week, I...I deal with you proper. I
give you something nice, all right?
Nah, I don't know about that one,
Badger. What you mean, you no know
about that?
You see the road, big man, you have
to know everything about everybody.
Yeah, but, if I give you them 3oz,
how do I know you'll give them back
to me?
Oh, you know me, I give it back.
Boy, me look like criminal to you?
Eh? You think that me ever rob
big Wheats? Yeah, yeah. What happen
to ya, dog? Whatever, Badger. I need
to go pee, all right?
Wait there, yeah? Go on, go piss,
come back and we talk some real
business, yeah? Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Go on, man.
HE SIGHS
You got any gear?
What ya talk about, big man?
Yo, yo, move from me, man.
What the fuck you all doing, boy?
Come here. Yo, get the fuck off me!
SHOUTING
Come here! Fuck off!
Get in the back! Move the coon!
Get the fuck off me!
CRASHING
Get in the back! Get him in!
BADGER SHOUTS OUT
SCUFFLING AND SHOUTING
TYRES SCREECH
THUDDING, BADGER SHOUTS OUT
MUSIC THROBS
That's a nice jacket, nig-nog.
Fuck off, bacon.
SHOUTING
Something to say? Something to say?
SHOUTING CONTINUES
SIREN WAILS
DOOR OPENS
DOOR SHUTS
ENGINE STARTS
Fucking black bastard,
he's got a long walk home!
They never learn, do they?
They never learn.
# Me walk pon Acre Lane
inna freezing rain
# Watch out behind you, watch out
# Me sight two beastmen
Swear they were insane
# Watch out behind me
Watch out... #
Just chill now, brethren. Tell her
hair look nice, that kind of thing,
huh?
The needle's stuck, dread.
School finish, and I don't
want you have to teach me
so many things when I know
so many raatid tings about you.
If I were to blab, you'd have
to walk down the street
with a bag over your head and a
serious muff covering them ears,
cos the laughter all around would
drown out even Shaka's speaker box.
DOORBELL RINGS
Come on. Let's trod.
Look at this likkle raas youth!
Hi! Hi! Come on in!
You all right? Thank you for coming.
That's all right!
QUIET CONVERSATION
LOVERS ROCK PLAYS IN BACKGROUND
And this is Alex's sound.
Crucial Rocker.
And Val's as well, innit?
Innit a ting?
Yeah, they thieved every bit of it.
Not the vinyl, man.
Not thieved any of the gold.
But they make it all themselves.
Innit, Alex?
With, like, a big saw and that.
You got to hear him MC.
Mm!
Katrina know one of them girl
who dead in the fire.
The thing in New Cross last week?
Yeah.
Everyone was chatting about it
at the dance last night...
..maybe thinking one of them
National Front boy would come
and fling a petrol bomb
inna the dance or something.
How many dead now?
13.
HE SUCKS TEETH
13 youth dead...
..and nothing being said.
And 30 more injured or in hospital.
Dem all kids, man.
And they made no arrests.
That's why the people,
dem are so vex.
HE SUCKS TEETH
There's talk of some kind of march
if the beast don't do nothing.
A march if they're lucky.
We're in the middle
of a frigging war.
And nobody sight who did it.
Nobody?
It was dark, and one minute
everybody wining and dining.
And the next? The next, the yard
just catch alight from a petrol
bomb. It's a serious business!
Something ah snap!
That's what dem
Brixton Panther man say, innit?
Something ah snap.
REGGAE MUSIC
Oh, me love this tune! Come on.
Yeah, man!
Boy, her leg demanding a stroke.
Now your chance, Wheats.
Well, do your thing, man, come on!
Don't let me down,
brethren, do your ting.
Come on, you're embarrassing me,
man. Do your thing, man.
DENNIS SUCKS TEETH
Brethren!
Come on, look at that leg-back, man!
Do your ting!
MUSIC IN NEXT ROOM
Thank you so much for coming.
It's been so nice!
Have you had a good time?
Lovely. I'll see you soon. Bye!
You let me down, brethren.
You let us all down.
We bring you to meet a fit girl and
you don't even say two words to her?
Whatever the matter with you?
She was never going to be interested
in nobody like me.
Cha! That's what I'm talking about.
Talk like that
and you are never even catch
them leg-backs who are troggs.
Shut your fricking beak, man,
before I shut it for you!
You know nothing about me, dread!
Now get the fuck out!
We didn't know ourselves
could have happened, you know
Any time, anywhere
Fire don't it happen to we
and the nations, them are ready
But in spite a all that
everybody was still shocked
When we get the cold facts
about that brutal attack
When we find out
about the fire over New Cross
About the innocent life
Dem were lost
About the physically scarred
The mentally marred
And dem relatives
who take it so hard
And, you know, although
plenty people were surprised
They no say dem kind of thing there
could've happened to we
Inna this here Great Britain
Inna London today
And a few get frightened
and a few get subdued
Almost everybody had to sympathise
With the loved ones
of the injured and the dead
For this here massacre
that we come to realise
It could have been me
It could have been you
Or one of few pickney dem
Who fell victims to
the terror by night
But wait
You not remember how the whole of
Black Britain did wrack with grief?
How the whole of Black Britain
did turn a melancholy blue?
Not the passable blue
of the murderer's eyes
But like the smoke of gloom
on that cold Sunday morning
But stop
You no remember how the whole
of Black Britain turned a fiery red?
Not the callous red
of the killer's eyes
But red with rage
like the flames of the fire
It's a hell of a something
fi true, you know
What a terrible price
we have to pay, though, man
Just fi live a little life
Just fi struggle fi survive
Every day is just worries
and struggle and strife
Imagine so much young people
cut off inna dem prime
Before the twilight of dem time
Without no reason nor rhyme
Cast in the shadow of gloom
over our life
Look how the police and the press
try dem desperate best
Fi put a stop to a quest
for the truth
You remember?
First dem say it could be arson
Then dem say it could be not
First dem say a firebomb
Then dem say it was not
Them implied coulda white
Them implied coulda black
Who response for the attack
Against those innocent young blacks
Instead of raising the alarm
Let the public know wha gwaan
Plenty paper print pure lie
fi blind your public eye
And the police, them plot and scheme
Confuse and conceal
Me hear seh even the poor parents
of the dead dem tried fi use
But, you know, in spite of
them wicked propaganda
We refuse fi surrender
to them ugly innuendo
For up till now not one of them
Neither Stockwell,
neither Wilson nor Bell
Not one of them can tell we why
Not one of them can tell we who
Who turn that night of joy
Into a morning of sorrow
Who turn the jollity
Into a ugly tragedy.
REGGAE MUSIC
CHATTER
ANGRY SHOUTING OUTSIDE
Yo, Brixton on fire!
CHEERING
ANGRY SHOUTING
Babylon!
FIRE ALARM BLARES
Go on, then! Go on,
you fucking bastards!
INDISTINCT SHOUTING
POLICE WHISTLE BLOWS
Fucking black cunt!
Fuck off!
Fucking nig-nogs!
INDISTINCT SHOUTING
Stop Babylon!
Yes, come on!
All right, you wog!
POLICE WHISTLE BLOWS
Come on, let's go, let's go!
Come on, then!
I'm coming, I'm coming!
POLICEMAN LAUGHS
Fucking leg it!
RHYTHMIC THUDDING
POLICE WHISTLE BLOWS
ANGRY SHOUTING
SIREN WAILS
You mother cunt, get off me!
Yardman Irie fresh
from the war zone!
Man a man, what dat friggin' smell?
Me a smell some raas foulness
inna the air.
Yo, Yardman Irie need to
discover deodorant. Me feel sick!
Him stink like cabbage water.
And y'all put politeties pon it.
Man, you reek
like rancid baby nappies. Shut the
fuck up, dread. You say what?
It was either that or to get mash up
in a beast cell, to raatid.
You come here
reeking like ghetto sewage.
Remove from this yard with speed.
Let man take some collie.
Please, man.
Next time me see you...
..me want my money.
Now remove.
HE SUCKS TEETH
Come here and stink up my yard.
What me tell you
about that youth, you know?
HE SUCKS TEETH
What you think about this one?
Mm.
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no... #
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no... #
# Shilling
# We can't take no more
of this suffering
# So we riot inna Brixton
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no shilling
# We can't take no more
of this suffering
# So we riot inna Brixton
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no shilling
# We can't take no more
of this suffering
# So we riot inna Brixton
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no shilling
# We can't take no more
of this suffering
# So we riot inna Brixton... #
HE HUMS THE MELODY
# So we riot inna Brixton. #
In tune to the great boss sound
of Crucial Rocker.
This one goes out to all the
revolutionary foot soldier.
Flash up your lighter
if you were there in the uprising.
CHEERING
To the murder of Blair Peach...
Blair!
..the New Cross fire...
..and then, today, 11th April 1981,
..where Babylon took
a raasclaat beating!
REGGAE MUSIC
If you were there, so bawl forward!
CHEERING
Forward! Forward! Forward!
CHANTING: Forward! Forward! Forward!
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no shilling
# We can't take no more
of this suffering
# So we gwaan riot inna Brixton
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no shilling
# We can't take no more
of this suffering
ALL: # So we gwaan
riot inna Brixton!
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no shilling
# We can't take no more
of this suffering
# So we gwaan riot inna Brixton
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no shilling
# We can't take no more
of this suffering
# So we gwaan riot inna Brixton
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no shilling
# We can't take no more
of this suffering
# So we gwaan riot inna Brixton! #
THUD
ANGRY SHOUTING
SHOUTING CONTINUES
Get... Oi! Get him up, get him up!
Get out of here!
Check that room!
Check that room over there.
Take him down!
BANGING
Right, get up!
Fucking pigs!
Move, man!
Get off me!
DAWN SHOUTS
Shut it!
Get the fuck off me!
Get the fuck off me!
Shut it! Shut up!
I didn't do nothing! This is abuse!
Me say to you,
you might feel sorry and blame
yourself for dem tings there...
..but there's plenty of tribulations
and ways for dealing with dem ting.
And the education me can give you,
that is your key.
And why would you do that?
HE SCOFFS
My thoughts long been
trained pon the youth, man.
I have to play my part
cos me know the future is yours.
HE SUCKS TEETH
Some future, dread.
For all the youth outside
that window is the dole office
and the inside of a beast cell,
and that's it.
Free yourself from the negativity,
Alex, man.
You been lied to about fi we people.
Huh? Enough of that, man.
Cha! Listen, I want tell you
about the system in here. Yes.
So listen me, and listen me careful.
There's enough talk of ism
and schism and racism.
Me no defend nobody
against the charge of racism,
cos Rasta don't discriminate.
But the main thing you have to
worry about in dis here country
is the system of class
and classism.
When the children of Africa
was dragged to the West, huh,
it's cos of money...
..cos of the cheap labour
benefitting the upper classes,
lining them pockets. Hm?
All know the system still,
still the poor little pickney dem
inna the inner-city school,
them cannot make much progress.
Otherwise who gon build dem house?
Hm?
Who gon drive dem bus? Hm?
Some of them make it through, yes.
But only a few of them.
And that is why me keep going on
about education, education.
You have to supplement what them
teach you by teaching yourself.
Teaching how, then, man?
You have to unlearn
what you have learn.
And you can start by reading,
reading the scholars
of fi we people.
That will turn your life around.
You see? Look.
You saw all them book, yeah? Hm?
You see them?
From this day, every single one
of them book now belongs to you.
And me can recommend...
..you start by reading...
..this here one here, so.
The Black Jacobins
by Cyril Lionel Robert James.
Jah know him will show you the way!
Education, Alex.
Education is the key!
Hear me now? Alex!
You see, if you don't
know your past...
..then you won't know your future.
GENTLE SNORING
DOORS BANG IN DISTANCE
SIMEON: You see,
if you don't know your past...
..then you won't know your future.
Just a moment.
PHONE RINGS
Excuse me one minute.
Welfare and Social Services?
Uh-huh.
OFFICIAL: 27th of the 8th, 1976.
Report on Alphonse Wheatle.
Date of birth - 3rd of the 1st 1963,
Holly House, 121 Wickham Road.
House mother, Miss Joyce Cook.
In Shirley since
aged three-and-a-half years.
Initially had severe eczema
and asthma and needed
intensive treatment.
Both conditions now better.
He's not had an asthmatic attack
for a year.
Chief problem now -
daytime enuresis.
None at night.
Lonely boy, but gets involved
in sports and general activities.
Because of his sullen indifference,
house mother says she finds it
difficult not to pick on him.
Recently, he accused
her of not caring,
but Martin Jones promptly
stuck up for her.
Mr Hutton, social worker,
came fortnightly for a year
but got no response at any time
from Alphonse's relatives.
Shirley High School.
He gets good reports
and appears to take an interest
in a wide range of subjects.
He spoke of liking German, French,
English, maths, science and drama.
Alphonse, one Saturday night
recently, came down and said
they did not help him at school.
The excellent German teacher
interestedly asked repeatedly
about his mother and did not know
about his parental situation.
Wheats!
Wheats, what happened to you?
It's me, dread. It's Badger.
Yes, my spar.
Jesus Christ, you look good,
to raatid.
Badger! It's good to see you, dread.
How's tricks?
HE SUCKS TEETH
Bwoy!
Yeah, man. Tricks.
I beg you some money now?
Nah. Sorry, dread.
Come on. Give me a
few pounds, my man.
I haven't got anything.
It's good to see you, though.
Yeah, man, it's good
to see you too, man.
Mm!
So, um, what you do, hm?
What's the...? What's the Wheats
doing with himself?
Don't know, dread.
Not much.
I think I might go
and find my family.
Raatid!
Fi real?
Fuck!
Yeah.
Or maybe try and write a book.
Writing? Shut the fuck up, man.
Me...me...me...me have
a typewriter for you, you know.
Brand-new. It still work
and everything.
It still does work, man.
Trust me, it still work.
And you can have it
fi a special price.
Cos you is Yardman Irie.
HE LAUGHS
Ten pound! Ten pound and it's yours.
Hm?
Go on.
Come now, man. Let's trod.
What happen to you, man?
Dry your eye now.
It's a big man hug.
Long time me no see you.
Good to see you, man.
Yes, brethren! You want some?
Nah, you're good.
Brethren, drink the drink
and I'll walk with you.
I'm all right.
You sure? Yeah, man. All right.
Good to see you, though.
See if you like this typewriter
me a gonna get for you. It's a
real thing. It is a proper one.
All right, all right.
It's just round the corner there.
It better be good, though!
You see the girl there?
ALEX LAUGHS
# There's a natural mystic
blowing through the air
# If you listen carefully
now you will hear
# This could be the first trumpet
# Might as well be the last
# Many more will have to suffer
# Many more will have to die
# Don't ask me why
# Things are not the way
they used to be
# I won't tell no lie
# One and all got to
face reality now
# Though I try to find the answer
# To all the questions they ask
# Though I know it's impossible
# To go living through the past
# Don't tell no lie
# There's a natural mystic
# Blowing through the air
# Can't keep them down
# If you listen carefully
now you will hear
# Such a natural mystic
# Blowing through the air
# There's a natural mystic
# Blowing through the air
# I won't tell no lie
# If you listen carefully now
# You will hear
# There's a natural mystic
blowing through the air
# Such a natural mystic
# Blowing through the air. #
KEY CLICKS IN LOCK
KEYS RATTLE
Follow.
To the right. Stop there.
DOOR ENTRY BUZZES
To the right.
And right.
Stop there.
KEYS RATTLE IN LOCK
In.
Stinks in here...
Come in, my youth.
Come in, man.
Cha.
Me name's Simeon.
It was Alex, don't it?
You want a tea, or
something fi drink?
The bottom bunk is mine, yeah?
For the proximity to the shitter.
Boy, me 'dep on hunger strike
and me belly bad.
I'm sorry about the smell, still,
but dem things soon pass, man.
I'll give you a little space, yeah?
Anything you want,
just...just help yourself.
Ah! Do you want to end up in hell?
Is that what you want?
Cos that's precisely
what's going to happen
if you carry on playing up!
Now, I know you've been fighting!
You get up them stairs and wash them
dirty little hands before dinner!
And you go straight to bed!
I don't want to hear
a word from you tonight,
you understand? Yes, Auntie.
OFFICIAL: Alec Alphonso Wheatle,
born on 3rd January 1963.
Alphonso, an illegitimate child,
was received into care under section
one of the Children's Act 1948
on 17th April 1964
as the private foster mother,
with whom he was placed
by his putative father, was unable
to continue caring for him.
His mother, Mrs G, a married woman,
deserted him at birth.
He was placed
in a council nursery initially
and transferred in February 1966
to the children's home
where he is now living.
On admission,
he was suffering from severe eczema,
but this has improved
and he is making good progress.
Alphonso's mother has had no contact
with him since birth.
DIARRHOEA SPLATTERS
SIMEON SIGHS
SPLATTERING CONTINUES
Ah! Jah...
Nice! Jah!
BOY: Wheatle's wet his bed again.
Auntie!
Shut up! You dirty little bastard!
Ow!
As if I don't do enough for you.
I am sick to death
of your disgusting behaviour.
HE MUMBLES
What have I done to deserve you?
You are a horrible,
nasty little boy!
ALEX COUGHS
DIARRHOEA SPLATTERS
SIMEON SIGHS
SPLATTERING CONTINUES
SIMEON GROANS
Jah!
How many fucking times, dread?!
You can't use the shitter in the
yard instead of
stinking up this place?!
Me not proud, you know, youth.
Me say sorry once and I say it
again. Dirty fucking Rasta!
You're lucky I don't fuck you up.
Fuck me up? You'd better
fuck me up good, you know.
Anyhow you left me standing,
you finish your life.
Joker, dread.
As if you could do me.
Listen!
ALEX GROANS
Calm yourself, youth!
Calm yourself!
What me say? Huh?
Listen, listen. Calm yourself.
All right, all right, all right.
All right, my youth. All right, man.
All right, all right.
Listen, man. I want to hear.
What is your story?
My story?! What?
I ain't got no fricking story!
All right. All right.
All right. All right. All right.
All right. Listen.
ALEX WHINES
Have all night, you know.
HE SCREAMS
All night me have,
and my ears is fully open.
Huh? So just start at the beginning.
ALEX WHIMPERS
MUSIC: Satta Massagana
by The Abyssinians
What do you call it?
Reggae music.
What, the song?
Nah, not the song.
Why, you like it?
I love it.
Turn that coon wog crap off!
We ain't in Africa now!
What you gonna do, fool?
Don't worry about him.
Listen to the lyrics, man.
Cool down your temper.
HE IMITATES AN APE
I'm not scared of that dickface.
Shut your mouth before
I fill it for you!
Wheats, back down!
Fight! Fight! Wheats, have him.
Fucking have him! Go on.
He's stuck, man.
Oi, get off him!
Teachers, teachers, teachers!
Get off me!
Get off me!
Oi! Oi!
Fuck's sake!
Fucking kill you!
Fuck off
and take that shit music with you!
Get him out of here!
Don't make it worse
for yourself. Shut up!
Come here, you. Come here!
Stay there, monkey!
WISTFUL MUSIC
RADIO PRESENTER: Our castaway this
week is a writer of short stories,
of children's books
and of screenplays - Roald Dahl.
Could you adjust yourself
to isolation on an island?
ROALD DAHL: Very easily, yes.
I look for it more and more
in my life today.
I hate to say it,
but I would love it.
How much does music mean to you?
It means a great deal, but not
in a...not in a professional way.
In the old days,
before I was married,
I never used to start
writing in the morning
before putting on
some very great music,
like a Beethoven quartet,
er, and sit and listen to it
in...in the hopes
that some of this greatness
would rub off on me
and that I would, er, write...
As a matter of fact, it helps quite
a lot because it is impossible...
MUSIC: Everyday Wondering
by Johnny Clarke
INDISTINCT CHATTER
Shut the gate.
These are your keys.
Don't lose them.
These are the rules. Learn them.
Any questions?
Good.
DOOR OPENS
Fuck my frigging days!
Man seen boy fall from outer space
looking less like him
claffy to raatid.
Wha...? What? A blowoh!
No tomfoolery.
Are you cuckoo or are you the beast?
Dennis, behave yourself.
HE SUCKS TEETH
The man is only ramping with you.
Don't listen to his chats.
I'm Dawn.
My room's just over there.
It's...Alex, innit?
You're seriously busting PVC?
Frig my days, he is!
He's wearing PVC!
From where on this Earth did you
land? Shirley Oaks. In Surrey.
Surrey?
And they dress you there
with garms made by the farm animals?
HE LAUGHS
You got any corn?
You got...any...corn?
I've got some Pot Noodle
they sent me off with.
Oh, God! Oh, Lord!
BOTH LAUGH
Who the...?
Who the fuck is this boy?
Eh? Money, man.
Money.
Corn is money.
You got money?
Why? Leave him money alone.
I just want to take the poor sap
shopping, innit?
Otherwise next man will jump on him
and mash up his claat.
Don't worry about the corn, Mr PVC.
And just meet me outside in two.
And just lose the jacket.
You understand? You see that?
He's hearing, but he's not
listening, you know. Just get out!
Now, crook ya ear, Mr PVC.
Whatever man say,
never trod into Dunn & Co.
That's where them
dirty greybacks shop.
I ain't ramping, you understand?
This is serious.
You see that? That's Farah.
Like what I is modelling.
Anything Farah is on target.
Jah! You're not ready yet.
And we have a priority more pressing
than slacks.
Come, come. Let's trod.
Soon come, brethren. Soon come.
Hm?
HE CHUCKLES
A blowout Afro him want. A blowout.
Him speak? Of course him speak.
Just give him a blowout now.
Man have to ask if
he want a blowout.
All right.
Alex, tell him you want a blowout.
I want one.
A blowout, yes.
Absolutely. I want one.
HE LAUGHS
So, what you say?
Don't start pon me, dread.
So many youth get bust up in a cell.
Something gonna snap, man.
You hear what happened
to Coffin Head? Mm-hm.
Beastman arrest him
outside the Kentucky,
throw him in a cell, bruk up him
nose and boot up him ribcage.
Fi what?
Man, a man want life for life.
That's what the Brixton
Panther man say, innit?
Things are gonna blow up.
You hear what blow up?
Filthy Rocker's valve amplifier
in the dance.
People was vexed.
Galdem on the street
cussing up the boxboys,
but they can't get no cab
to take them to the next dance.
You follow any of the sound system?
I do love reggae music.
Waaah! See, all the African man
love reggae.
What is in our blood.
I'm not African. Come again?
I'm not African, I'm...
Uh, dread, you is African.
I'm not. I might be black,
but I'm from Surrey.
Oh, God! Bwoy! Him
cuss-cuss in here.
Babylon have you washed.
Babylon have your brain
in the Fairy Liquid.
HE SUCKS TEETH
Who's Babylon?
Where'd you get this youth from?
And what this youth chatting about?
"Who's Babylon?"
Babylon not a person.
It's de politrickster and the system
that oppresses all black people.
So where is it on the map?
HE LAUGHS
Man just arrive in Brixton today.
Or just Planet Earth, I don't know.
Bwoy, you have to find your roots.
Alexander the Great Jokerman.
Boy, you have to find out
who the fuck you is!
HE SUCKS TEETH
KNOCKING ON WINDOW
Yes, I.
All right? Hail Selassi-I.
All right.
HE CHUCKLES
HE SUCKS TEETH
What's wrong? Beast.
Get ready to bolt. What? Why?
What you doing, man?
You seriously are frigging cuckoo!
You can't do that! Do what?
Fuck with the beast round here.
They'll mash you worse than
any bad man.
No, they won't. What?
They're here to help you.
What?! Yes, they will.
They will too, Wheats.
Them truncheon butt de sufferer.
On this I really ain't ramping, man.
About to chip for my life.
About to run, man.
Well, I can't run in these shoes.
I've got really bad blisters.
Floyd call it correct.
You is a jokerman.
Come, come, let's trod.
You like them shoes there?
Yeah. Try it on, man.
All right, you'll look cool
in those, mate. Yeah, man.
Mm. That's it.
How do they feel? Yeah, good, but...
Comfortable? Yeah, but...
Yeah, all right, all right.
All right, blow, man.
What? What did you say?
Fucking leg it, Wheatle!
But I haven't tied my laces yet!
Oi! Where you going? Oi! Come here!
MUSIC: Zion
by The Flames
Cup your hand. Cup your hand.
It make your mouth dry,
but give you a nice, slow buzz.
I have smoked before, you know.
Mm? So give me three quid
and the rest of the collie yours.
Yeah, man.
Come, come.
Let's trod.
Wa-gwaan?
MUSIC CONTINUES
Can I give you 7p tomorrow
when I get my giro?
Nah, youth.
How many time me have to tell you?
Return tomorrow.
It'll be gone by then.
Come on, Lincoln.
I spend all my money
in here every week.
Please!
Dennis! Hey, Dennis. Hi, man.
What happen to you, man?
Don't use me name, dread.
Who's selling the weed, then?
Why have you made
the frigging announcement, man?
What wrong with you, eh?
HE SUCKS TEETH
Come.
Come, let's trod, man.
Careful of the car, Dennis.
Shut up, man. Come.
All right, me dog. You good?
Me cool. Yeah, man,
yeah, man, yeah, man.
Can I have a draw, please?
Yo, where the fuck
this youth come from?
Him cool, man. Him safe.
I have some corn.
Yo, yo, yo. Listen.
You know how many man get jook up
on this road for little more
than nothing? Eh?
HE SUCKS TEETH
Yo, remove ya.
Me said remove ya!
Badger. You known me from time, man.
Give my spar a £2 draw
and be happy for the business.
Hm?
Him safe, man.
HE SUCKS TEETH
Only cos true you is my brethren.
Respect, man.
Come.
WHISPERS: Here's the money.
Respect.
All right, now the two
of you fuck off.
HE SUCKS TEETH
You got to be more Brixton, Wheats.
You been here six month,
and you not learn nothing?
Like blurting out my name for every
undercover beast to take note.
HE SUCKS TEETH
What am I supposed to call you,
then?
Maybe dread, or brethren, or spar,
or...
I don't fucking know.
And you want to let go
of that frigging bumpkin walk, too.
You walk like that
scarecrow on the TV.
Shut up.
Nah, you have to strut
as a black man strut.
Any dread can spot you from a mile.
Now, we have to chat
about the money side, but...
..I can learn you a few things.
I've just spent all my corn.
If me a teach you, me have to
have compensation for my time.
You understand.
I've got 30p.
30p?
That is satisfactory
for a few pointers.
Now walk.
Lift up your head, man,
and slow it down, Wheats.
You is marching like you
the Stormtrooper hunting the Jedi.
You got to be the Jedi doing
the hunting of the Stormtrooper.
What are you blinking talking about?
You sound like them raas baldhead,
man.
"What are you blinking talking
about?" Well, fuck you, Dennis!
I ain't had no-one teach me
jack shit in my life.
A mum or dad, brother or sister,
no-one my whole life.
I ain't had nobody!
Was only ramping with you, brethren.
The truth?
I can't know how deep your pain.
You're the real thing, man.
No hyping.
But I always kept eyes out for you,
innit, Wheats?
Listen to me.
Christmas soon pon us,
and my mother puts on
a serious spread.
You want to come sample
the Jamaican jam on the day?
I don't like Christmas. Wha?!
Nuff boiled chicken, rice and peas,
roast potatoes, stuffing,
hot corn...
All right, all right. As long as
you quiet your beak about it.
You'll come? Yeah?
HE LAUGHS
I'm warning you -
all my family are a bit...
..mad up.
It'll be good for you.
Now, me reckon me owe you 10p
off this lesson.
You was proving be
a faster learner, too, Wheats.
But I...I'll hold onto that,
because that's going to be 20p
for your next lesson, innit?
It's like a little deposit, yeah?
Head high.
Chest out.
# Jah would never give power
# To a baldhead
# Run come crucify the dread... #
Hey!
Hurry up, man.
Happy Christmas, Mummy.
You just come?
Where you been? Food cook long time.
Hi, Sylvia.
This is my spar, Alex.
Fix him up a drink first, eh?
Is me for fix it? Thirsty boy.
Jah.
Come. Sit down.
Everybody, this is Alex.
Can you hold the baby?
So, are your parents Jamaican?
I don't think so, no.
What do you mean, you don't
think so? Where they from, then?
SHE SUCKS TEETH
Anyway...
..give me the baby.
Very cold start. Tell me
how the garage is going.
The garage is going good, family.
I got a Cortina I just picked up
last week.
All right, that's good.
I need you to come round,
help me do some work on it.
Yeah. How's your football going?
BABY CRIES
I heard about it. 4-0 you lot lose.
I was in goal as well.
DENNIS: Hold that.
Secret family recipe, you know.
All right, Uncles?
What's going on, Uncle? You good?
Yeah, man.
Can't wait to have some yam.
Who want food, come now.
Hey!
CHATTER CONTINUES
Guys, come get your food.
Coming, Auntie. Coming, Mum.
My mother give me one piece
of chicken, man.
HE SUCKS TEETH
How much piece of chicken
did you get?
Got a nice piece there. You got one?
Two piece. You got two piece?!
Yeah, man. What?!
Come out of my seat, man.
Come out of seat, boy.
Move.
You want more gravy?
Is it spicy?
You nuh like spice? It's all right,
me can get you some drink from the
tray. No. No, thank you.
It looks delicious.
What happen to you? Take your time.
The food no have no legs.
Your mother not cook for you?
Sometimes.
Sometime?
Sometime me no know why me bother.
DISTANT CHATTER
WATER RUNS
Me 'dep on hunger strike.
Ten days now, you know. Hm.
If they can serve halal and kosher,
they must can serve ital.
Huh?
Me believe fighting
for that is worth all sufferation.
But, bwoy, it wreak havoc
with my belly, you know?
And for that, me sorry till me
can't sorry no more, my youth.
Why are you even here, dread?
I was arrested at the gates
of Westminster Abbey
with a pickaxe, big so.
Me tell the judge
me intent upon destroying
the tomb of Edward the Confessor
in retaliation for the desecration
of all of the Egyptian king
by the European man.
Me gonna bruk it up!
He give me six months.
So, you're serious about your stuff,
then, innit?
Rasta is not...is not a religion.
Is my life.
What are you writing?
Why you ask me that?
No reason.
Me write some.
Just notes, man.
I don't really have the talent.
What me blessed with
is for the love of reading.
Reading's what shaped my life.
Is that your family?
Yeah. The woman in the white dress
are me mother.
The minister's sister.
Keep in touch?
Not for a long while now, no.
HE SUCKS TEETH
Cha.
Enough about me now.
Me never suffer like you, you know.
You know how me end up
in a prison, right?
So, come on, youth, man,
what happened to you?
I took a wrong turn. No, man.
Listen up now.
Not one man, woman or a child
ever learnt anything in life
without making a mistake.
For me, it was always
about the music.
That was it, dread.
# One good ting about the music
# When it hits you
You feel no pain, yeah
# Me say one good ting
about the music
# When it hits you, you feel no pain
# Come and say hit me with music
# Come and say hit me with music now
# Cos dis a Trenchtown rock
Don't watch that Trenchtown rock
# Big fish or sprat, Trenchtown rock
# You reap what you sow
Trenchtown rock
# Only Jah-Jah know. #
Jah know the gong speak!
Yeah, my youth. Come here, man!
HE LAUGHS
Yes, my youth?
Have corn for this,
but not this one.
Can you keep it for me,
just for a couple of days?
Irie. You have until Friday. Safe.
Respect, Lincoln. Respect.
You is too fat.
You can't see how you need church?
Fat stinkin' dog. You is a... You...
You is a scrawny little rat boy,
you know that?
You not see how your trouser,
them a burst out? Look how your head
big like breadfruit, dog.
Big like breadfruit?
You know what? You look like
some sewer rat, you know.
You know that?
Dog, you is the fattest man
in Brixton. You know that?
And guess what?
Me still take your girl, you know.
You know that? You can't take my
girl. I can't? Ask her. You can only
take my girl McDonald, dog.
And what? That's...
Listen, you is a sausage dog.
Brethren, you see your nose?
You're like Blackwall Tunnel or
something like that, you know what
me say? You is a dumpling.
I'll squash you, brethren. I destroy
you. You is a Jamaican panda.
A Jamaican panda?
Shut the fuck up, man,
before me chop off your two lip,
them, and make two imitation sausage
out of them to raatid! Say it.
Me? Yes, fatman.
You must be mad, you know.
I'm not mad, you is just fat.
Frig my days!
Valentine Golding.
Come find you, innit?
Welcome, sir.
What, you did all this? Mm-hm.
Check my new suitcase.
Philips 423?
Dread, how you lay your hands
on this record?
Spent every penny of my G-cheques.
Me sometimes keep a look out
for the bad men up on the line
to make a little extra corn.
Can still run fast, innit?
And the beast never
seem to bother me.
Check this.
Corn is money.
Ooh! Hey, that's the skills
man have to have.
Yes, man.
I knew it.
You ain't changed. I have.
A little bit.
You're mad, you know that, right?
Ah, shut up.
LAUGHTER
The leg-back's mine, you know,
brethren.
Where's mine, man?
I keep telling you.
You're not ready, man.
Today's going to be the best night,
I swear to God.
Mind yourself, dog.
Dat's Festus Coxsone's operator.
You telling me, brethren.
Careful, man. Careful.
That's how much leg-back
are going to be in there,
brethren, with that bass, man.
Man, there's going to be
every type of girl here.
Girl from North London.
South London. West London.
South-east London.
LAUGHTER
Bruh!
Me gone.
Yo, baby, yo.
Hold on. Whoa, whoa, whoa.
1.50 for coming in.
What you mean?
Give me 1.50 to come in, otherwise
fuck off. Move from the door.
Man, fuck this.
All the criss girls
are with the sound man.
To get dem leg-back is simple.
HE SUCKS TEETH
Yeah.
We need our own sound.
That's it.
That's right, man.
But we have to make it proper.
That's crucial.
Of course, dread.
To raatid.
We can call our sound
Crucial Rocker Sound System.
Crucial Rocker.
Crucial Rocker, to raatid, yeah.
To raatid.
HE CHUCKLES
But we haven't got any equipment.
Ah, don't worry.
Me know where.
ELECTRIC SAW WHIRS
Thank you, Dawn.
In tune to the great boss sound
of Crucial Rocker,
flash up your lighter. Easy.
We want to have at least 100 watts
a channel in the amp.
Then we can be nuff match for Tupper
King and all them dreadheads.
We thieved enough ply for at least
three boxes. But you ain't got
nothing to put in them.
What a blowoh!
We never had nothing to start with.
Watch, this sound is going to
be wicked and wild. Trust me.
# Wicked and wild
# That's the sound
of the underground
# See me there in a Brixton town
# Give the beastman
a crucial pound... # Eh!
Crucial, crucial!
# Wicked and wild
# That's the sound
of the underground
# Give the beastman
a crucial pound... #
GRUNTING
Fuck my days!
Get in!
Get in. 12, 12.
DOG BARKS
Frig, man!
There's a dog. There's a dog!
Hurry up! Move, man, move!
Move, move!
Hurry up, man!
Fuck it!
I'm here to see Cutlass.
Is Cutlass there?
Mr Rankin, I mean.
And what if him is?
Him might want chat
a likkle business.
Wholesale business.
Youth?
I've come to talk business.
Take off your clothes.
What?
Take off your clothes.
Take off your brief.
I ain't carrying no wire, dread.
I ain't no undercover beast.
Who control Moa Ambessa sound?
Beres.
Who are the mic men, then,
fi Frontline International?
Welton Youth and Silver Fox.
Who run tings down the Villa Road?
Soferno B.
Who operate the sound?
Big Youth.
But some man call him Chabba.
All right.
Still me question your dialect.
Your accent sound too English.
But all right, my youth.
How much collie you want?
Half ounce, dread.
But the brethrens I sell to
smoke top-ranking bush.
LAUGHTER
You know the runnings!
What name dem call you, my youth?
My friends call me Wheats.
My sound is going to be
called Crucial Rocker.
Irie a'ight, Crucial Rocker!
HE LAUGHS
Next time you want to make
your order, no forward here.
Call this number.
Pull up your brief now.
Youth!
I like your jacket.
CUTLASS LAUGHS
Crucial Rocker!
Big Wheats, me no have no weed left,
so me need 3oz, all right?
3oz, and just come link me back next
week, I...I deal with you proper. I
give you something nice, all right?
Nah, I don't know about that one,
Badger. What you mean, you no know
about that?
You see the road, big man, you have
to know everything about everybody.
Yeah, but, if I give you them 3oz,
how do I know you'll give them back
to me?
Oh, you know me, I give it back.
Boy, me look like criminal to you?
Eh? You think that me ever rob
big Wheats? Yeah, yeah. What happen
to ya, dog? Whatever, Badger. I need
to go pee, all right?
Wait there, yeah? Go on, go piss,
come back and we talk some real
business, yeah? Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Go on, man.
HE SIGHS
You got any gear?
What ya talk about, big man?
Yo, yo, move from me, man.
What the fuck you all doing, boy?
Come here. Yo, get the fuck off me!
SHOUTING
Come here! Fuck off!
Get in the back! Move the coon!
Get the fuck off me!
CRASHING
Get in the back! Get him in!
BADGER SHOUTS OUT
SCUFFLING AND SHOUTING
TYRES SCREECH
THUDDING, BADGER SHOUTS OUT
MUSIC THROBS
That's a nice jacket, nig-nog.
Fuck off, bacon.
SHOUTING
Something to say? Something to say?
SHOUTING CONTINUES
SIREN WAILS
DOOR OPENS
DOOR SHUTS
ENGINE STARTS
Fucking black bastard,
he's got a long walk home!
They never learn, do they?
They never learn.
# Me walk pon Acre Lane
inna freezing rain
# Watch out behind you, watch out
# Me sight two beastmen
Swear they were insane
# Watch out behind me
Watch out... #
Just chill now, brethren. Tell her
hair look nice, that kind of thing,
huh?
The needle's stuck, dread.
School finish, and I don't
want you have to teach me
so many things when I know
so many raatid tings about you.
If I were to blab, you'd have
to walk down the street
with a bag over your head and a
serious muff covering them ears,
cos the laughter all around would
drown out even Shaka's speaker box.
DOORBELL RINGS
Come on. Let's trod.
Look at this likkle raas youth!
Hi! Hi! Come on in!
You all right? Thank you for coming.
That's all right!
QUIET CONVERSATION
LOVERS ROCK PLAYS IN BACKGROUND
And this is Alex's sound.
Crucial Rocker.
And Val's as well, innit?
Innit a ting?
Yeah, they thieved every bit of it.
Not the vinyl, man.
Not thieved any of the gold.
But they make it all themselves.
Innit, Alex?
With, like, a big saw and that.
You got to hear him MC.
Mm!
Katrina know one of them girl
who dead in the fire.
The thing in New Cross last week?
Yeah.
Everyone was chatting about it
at the dance last night...
..maybe thinking one of them
National Front boy would come
and fling a petrol bomb
inna the dance or something.
How many dead now?
13.
HE SUCKS TEETH
13 youth dead...
..and nothing being said.
And 30 more injured or in hospital.
Dem all kids, man.
And they made no arrests.
That's why the people,
dem are so vex.
HE SUCKS TEETH
There's talk of some kind of march
if the beast don't do nothing.
A march if they're lucky.
We're in the middle
of a frigging war.
And nobody sight who did it.
Nobody?
It was dark, and one minute
everybody wining and dining.
And the next? The next, the yard
just catch alight from a petrol
bomb. It's a serious business!
Something ah snap!
That's what dem
Brixton Panther man say, innit?
Something ah snap.
REGGAE MUSIC
Oh, me love this tune! Come on.
Yeah, man!
Boy, her leg demanding a stroke.
Now your chance, Wheats.
Well, do your thing, man, come on!
Don't let me down,
brethren, do your ting.
Come on, you're embarrassing me,
man. Do your thing, man.
DENNIS SUCKS TEETH
Brethren!
Come on, look at that leg-back, man!
Do your ting!
MUSIC IN NEXT ROOM
Thank you so much for coming.
It's been so nice!
Have you had a good time?
Lovely. I'll see you soon. Bye!
You let me down, brethren.
You let us all down.
We bring you to meet a fit girl and
you don't even say two words to her?
Whatever the matter with you?
She was never going to be interested
in nobody like me.
Cha! That's what I'm talking about.
Talk like that
and you are never even catch
them leg-backs who are troggs.
Shut your fricking beak, man,
before I shut it for you!
You know nothing about me, dread!
Now get the fuck out!
We didn't know ourselves
could have happened, you know
Any time, anywhere
Fire don't it happen to we
and the nations, them are ready
But in spite a all that
everybody was still shocked
When we get the cold facts
about that brutal attack
When we find out
about the fire over New Cross
About the innocent life
Dem were lost
About the physically scarred
The mentally marred
And dem relatives
who take it so hard
And, you know, although
plenty people were surprised
They no say dem kind of thing there
could've happened to we
Inna this here Great Britain
Inna London today
And a few get frightened
and a few get subdued
Almost everybody had to sympathise
With the loved ones
of the injured and the dead
For this here massacre
that we come to realise
It could have been me
It could have been you
Or one of few pickney dem
Who fell victims to
the terror by night
But wait
You not remember how the whole of
Black Britain did wrack with grief?
How the whole of Black Britain
did turn a melancholy blue?
Not the passable blue
of the murderer's eyes
But like the smoke of gloom
on that cold Sunday morning
But stop
You no remember how the whole
of Black Britain turned a fiery red?
Not the callous red
of the killer's eyes
But red with rage
like the flames of the fire
It's a hell of a something
fi true, you know
What a terrible price
we have to pay, though, man
Just fi live a little life
Just fi struggle fi survive
Every day is just worries
and struggle and strife
Imagine so much young people
cut off inna dem prime
Before the twilight of dem time
Without no reason nor rhyme
Cast in the shadow of gloom
over our life
Look how the police and the press
try dem desperate best
Fi put a stop to a quest
for the truth
You remember?
First dem say it could be arson
Then dem say it could be not
First dem say a firebomb
Then dem say it was not
Them implied coulda white
Them implied coulda black
Who response for the attack
Against those innocent young blacks
Instead of raising the alarm
Let the public know wha gwaan
Plenty paper print pure lie
fi blind your public eye
And the police, them plot and scheme
Confuse and conceal
Me hear seh even the poor parents
of the dead dem tried fi use
But, you know, in spite of
them wicked propaganda
We refuse fi surrender
to them ugly innuendo
For up till now not one of them
Neither Stockwell,
neither Wilson nor Bell
Not one of them can tell we why
Not one of them can tell we who
Who turn that night of joy
Into a morning of sorrow
Who turn the jollity
Into a ugly tragedy.
REGGAE MUSIC
CHATTER
ANGRY SHOUTING OUTSIDE
Yo, Brixton on fire!
CHEERING
ANGRY SHOUTING
Babylon!
FIRE ALARM BLARES
Go on, then! Go on,
you fucking bastards!
INDISTINCT SHOUTING
POLICE WHISTLE BLOWS
Fucking black cunt!
Fuck off!
Fucking nig-nogs!
INDISTINCT SHOUTING
Stop Babylon!
Yes, come on!
All right, you wog!
POLICE WHISTLE BLOWS
Come on, let's go, let's go!
Come on, then!
I'm coming, I'm coming!
POLICEMAN LAUGHS
Fucking leg it!
RHYTHMIC THUDDING
POLICE WHISTLE BLOWS
ANGRY SHOUTING
SIREN WAILS
You mother cunt, get off me!
Yardman Irie fresh
from the war zone!
Man a man, what dat friggin' smell?
Me a smell some raas foulness
inna the air.
Yo, Yardman Irie need to
discover deodorant. Me feel sick!
Him stink like cabbage water.
And y'all put politeties pon it.
Man, you reek
like rancid baby nappies. Shut the
fuck up, dread. You say what?
It was either that or to get mash up
in a beast cell, to raatid.
You come here
reeking like ghetto sewage.
Remove from this yard with speed.
Let man take some collie.
Please, man.
Next time me see you...
..me want my money.
Now remove.
HE SUCKS TEETH
Come here and stink up my yard.
What me tell you
about that youth, you know?
HE SUCKS TEETH
What you think about this one?
Mm.
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no... #
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no... #
# Shilling
# We can't take no more
of this suffering
# So we riot inna Brixton
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no shilling
# We can't take no more
of this suffering
# So we riot inna Brixton
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no shilling
# We can't take no more
of this suffering
# So we riot inna Brixton
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no shilling
# We can't take no more
of this suffering
# So we riot inna Brixton... #
HE HUMS THE MELODY
# So we riot inna Brixton. #
In tune to the great boss sound
of Crucial Rocker.
This one goes out to all the
revolutionary foot soldier.
Flash up your lighter
if you were there in the uprising.
CHEERING
To the murder of Blair Peach...
Blair!
..the New Cross fire...
..and then, today, 11th April 1981,
..where Babylon took
a raasclaat beating!
REGGAE MUSIC
If you were there, so bawl forward!
CHEERING
Forward! Forward! Forward!
CHANTING: Forward! Forward! Forward!
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no shilling
# We can't take no more
of this suffering
# So we gwaan riot inna Brixton
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no shilling
# We can't take no more
of this suffering
ALL: # So we gwaan
riot inna Brixton!
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no shilling
# We can't take no more
of this suffering
# So we gwaan riot inna Brixton
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no shilling
# We can't take no more
of this suffering
# So we gwaan riot inna Brixton
# Uprising, there's an uprising
# There ain't no work
and we have no shilling
# We can't take no more
of this suffering
# So we gwaan riot inna Brixton! #
THUD
ANGRY SHOUTING
SHOUTING CONTINUES
Get... Oi! Get him up, get him up!
Get out of here!
Check that room!
Check that room over there.
Take him down!
BANGING
Right, get up!
Fucking pigs!
Move, man!
Get off me!
DAWN SHOUTS
Shut it!
Get the fuck off me!
Get the fuck off me!
Shut it! Shut up!
I didn't do nothing! This is abuse!
Me say to you,
you might feel sorry and blame
yourself for dem tings there...
..but there's plenty of tribulations
and ways for dealing with dem ting.
And the education me can give you,
that is your key.
And why would you do that?
HE SCOFFS
My thoughts long been
trained pon the youth, man.
I have to play my part
cos me know the future is yours.
HE SUCKS TEETH
Some future, dread.
For all the youth outside
that window is the dole office
and the inside of a beast cell,
and that's it.
Free yourself from the negativity,
Alex, man.
You been lied to about fi we people.
Huh? Enough of that, man.
Cha! Listen, I want tell you
about the system in here. Yes.
So listen me, and listen me careful.
There's enough talk of ism
and schism and racism.
Me no defend nobody
against the charge of racism,
cos Rasta don't discriminate.
But the main thing you have to
worry about in dis here country
is the system of class
and classism.
When the children of Africa
was dragged to the West, huh,
it's cos of money...
..cos of the cheap labour
benefitting the upper classes,
lining them pockets. Hm?
All know the system still,
still the poor little pickney dem
inna the inner-city school,
them cannot make much progress.
Otherwise who gon build dem house?
Hm?
Who gon drive dem bus? Hm?
Some of them make it through, yes.
But only a few of them.
And that is why me keep going on
about education, education.
You have to supplement what them
teach you by teaching yourself.
Teaching how, then, man?
You have to unlearn
what you have learn.
And you can start by reading,
reading the scholars
of fi we people.
That will turn your life around.
You see? Look.
You saw all them book, yeah? Hm?
You see them?
From this day, every single one
of them book now belongs to you.
And me can recommend...
..you start by reading...
..this here one here, so.
The Black Jacobins
by Cyril Lionel Robert James.
Jah know him will show you the way!
Education, Alex.
Education is the key!
Hear me now? Alex!
You see, if you don't
know your past...
..then you won't know your future.
GENTLE SNORING
DOORS BANG IN DISTANCE
SIMEON: You see,
if you don't know your past...
..then you won't know your future.
Just a moment.
PHONE RINGS
Excuse me one minute.
Welfare and Social Services?
Uh-huh.
OFFICIAL: 27th of the 8th, 1976.
Report on Alphonse Wheatle.
Date of birth - 3rd of the 1st 1963,
Holly House, 121 Wickham Road.
House mother, Miss Joyce Cook.
In Shirley since
aged three-and-a-half years.
Initially had severe eczema
and asthma and needed
intensive treatment.
Both conditions now better.
He's not had an asthmatic attack
for a year.
Chief problem now -
daytime enuresis.
None at night.
Lonely boy, but gets involved
in sports and general activities.
Because of his sullen indifference,
house mother says she finds it
difficult not to pick on him.
Recently, he accused
her of not caring,
but Martin Jones promptly
stuck up for her.
Mr Hutton, social worker,
came fortnightly for a year
but got no response at any time
from Alphonse's relatives.
Shirley High School.
He gets good reports
and appears to take an interest
in a wide range of subjects.
He spoke of liking German, French,
English, maths, science and drama.
Alphonse, one Saturday night
recently, came down and said
they did not help him at school.
The excellent German teacher
interestedly asked repeatedly
about his mother and did not know
about his parental situation.
Wheats!
Wheats, what happened to you?
It's me, dread. It's Badger.
Yes, my spar.
Jesus Christ, you look good,
to raatid.
Badger! It's good to see you, dread.
How's tricks?
HE SUCKS TEETH
Bwoy!
Yeah, man. Tricks.
I beg you some money now?
Nah. Sorry, dread.
Come on. Give me a
few pounds, my man.
I haven't got anything.
It's good to see you, though.
Yeah, man, it's good
to see you too, man.
Mm!
So, um, what you do, hm?
What's the...? What's the Wheats
doing with himself?
Don't know, dread.
Not much.
I think I might go
and find my family.
Raatid!
Fi real?
Fuck!
Yeah.
Or maybe try and write a book.
Writing? Shut the fuck up, man.
Me...me...me...me have
a typewriter for you, you know.
Brand-new. It still work
and everything.
It still does work, man.
Trust me, it still work.
And you can have it
fi a special price.
Cos you is Yardman Irie.
HE LAUGHS
Ten pound! Ten pound and it's yours.
Hm?
Go on.
Come now, man. Let's trod.
What happen to you, man?
Dry your eye now.
It's a big man hug.
Long time me no see you.
Good to see you, man.
Yes, brethren! You want some?
Nah, you're good.
Brethren, drink the drink
and I'll walk with you.
I'm all right.
You sure? Yeah, man. All right.
Good to see you, though.
See if you like this typewriter
me a gonna get for you. It's a
real thing. It is a proper one.
All right, all right.
It's just round the corner there.
It better be good, though!
You see the girl there?
ALEX LAUGHS
# There's a natural mystic
blowing through the air
# If you listen carefully
now you will hear
# This could be the first trumpet
# Might as well be the last
# Many more will have to suffer
# Many more will have to die
# Don't ask me why
# Things are not the way
they used to be
# I won't tell no lie
# One and all got to
face reality now
# Though I try to find the answer
# To all the questions they ask
# Though I know it's impossible
# To go living through the past
# Don't tell no lie
# There's a natural mystic
# Blowing through the air
# Can't keep them down
# If you listen carefully
now you will hear
# Such a natural mystic
# Blowing through the air
# There's a natural mystic
# Blowing through the air
# I won't tell no lie
# If you listen carefully now
# You will hear
# There's a natural mystic
blowing through the air
# Such a natural mystic
# Blowing through the air. #