[people chatting
and sirens] [radio, indistinct] [men yelling] [radio]
We are also
going to be talking... with Kim Alexander
on following
the money trail. [radio continues,
indistinct] [police radio,
indistinct] [talk radio, indistinct] [traffic sounds, honking] [man shouting in Spanish] Getting broken in
by Senor Rape-ez
here, huh? Yeah? You having
a good day? - Yeah.
- I'll break it down
for you, alright? All you really
need to know is among this whole sea
of brown skin a Mexican man hates
a Honduran, just like a Guatemalan
hates a Salvadoran. They're really not
all the same, no matter what you think. Everybody's dealin' dope,
twenty-four/seven. It's an open-air
supermarket. Everybody's got
a woodstick
for the LAPD. Typical, onionhead
gangbanger. It'll be a Mexican.
You know. A Patuso or a Fuego.
And all this shit, it all derives
from something
real important, like what little berg
in the Culiacán
Uncle Juanito comes from. How many fuckin' coyotes
the dirty little hamster bred with on his journey
up here to the promised land. What about the scandal? The scandal's bullshit. Two dickhead cops
got embroiled in some fuck all. Ratted out an entire
sweet division... to save their own
wretched asses. The D.A.'s office
is running scared,
afraid to file, afraid not to exonerate
en-fucking-masse. Now you got a lot
of hopped-up Rodney
King wannabe beaners making whoop-de-doo
of their own, with get-out-
of-jail-free cards
and a pile of county cash. This used to be a glorious
soldiers department.
Now it's...you. [laughs] What's funny? Private Hatchet Woman
over here is inquiring about the scandal
of the century. You didn't touch
your fries. What? Oh. I had a couple of them, but
I got a cholesterol thing.
Why, you want them? No, you want them.
Finish it. I can't--
I don't eat French fries. Well, then you
shouldn't have
ordered them. Finish those fries. Dave hates
wasting food. You never see him
eat nothing, but... he hates wasting food. Hey, if you keep going
the way you're going, you're gonna start looking
like one of those crackheads. [Monroe]
Munch, munch, cowgirl.
C'mon. A very attractive
crackhead, mind you. [Morone]
You makin' eyes at me? You want one? No, no, no.
You're doin' good. I stay healthy. Finish those fuckin' fries
if you wanna make probation. - Okay?
- Yes, sir. Your dad ever
discipline you? Huh? No, sir. I never met my father. You never met him. Why? He wasn't around. [police radio] [man]
General! I think you guys make
a great couple, to be honest with you. I was just bull-shitting
you the whole time. Thanks, boss. There you go.
Eat up. Eat up. [horn honks, sirens] You aim for the shortest
wetback, you watch him
skedaddle, plow the dice and the Schlitz
Malt Liquor cans, and hit your siren
in farewell. Let's see what we've got. [siren] Wooo! [laughs] Green cards! [laughing, coughing] Oh... Yeah, you'll get
the hang of it. - Aren't you worried?
- About? You'll get a 128? Okay, listen. This is
the most important
thing I've told you so far. Everything you learned
at the Academy...
bullshit. Illegal is just
a sick bird. This is a military
occupation, kid.
Emergency law. Alright, let's have
some fun. [crowd noise, loudspeaker
announcements, indistinct] [mellow music over PA] What went on here? [security guard]
Caught him boosting ephedrine
and propyl alcohol. What happened? Ow. He hit you? Yeah. Huh? You hit him?
Tough guy? [Dave]
Step outside, will you? - Outside?
- Yeah, outside. [Dave to guard]
Hey, will you
step out, too? - I don't know, sir.
- Now! And shut that door
behind you. [indistinct announcement] [door closes] Nice tat. Expensive. Now, you're cooking crank
out of somebody's garage. Now, I don't know where
that garage is, but you do. Now where, oh, where
could that damn garage be? I don't see it,
but you do. - No, I don't.
- Yes, you do. Okay, so now you have
petty theft, assault... I'm sure you have
at least four priors. That's a violation
and mandatory bullet,
compadre. Now, you give me
that address, and
it all goes away. What's the address? [Dave]
I don't want to hurt you.
I don't. I like you. [muffled shouting,
fighting] [crashes against glass] - You don't know anything?
- Don't know, nothin'. Ah! Oh, shit! Tell me where
it is, huh? C'mon. I don't know
where it fuckin' is.
I don't fuckin' know! [punk screams] [station noise,
people talking] That's your man. - What?
- Meth lab.
41 East Cesar Chavez. That's it?
No explanation, Dave? - Hey, Dave, question?
- Yeah? Circuit Court appeals
for illegal search
and seizure. Give me a precedent. Cuthbert versus Ingleside
County, Virginia, 1966. Look it up. You have all those
cases memorized? Yeah. If I don't,
I make it up. [car radio]
Takes place in this great,
great country of ours. But let's imagine if you will
what might be happening
out there beyond America, beyond our word,
because I'm sure
this will leave you simply breathless. It's my opinion, you see,
that when we hear of some, well, bizarre
or repugnant or deviant story like the one you are
about to hear, well, it's not that
the world suddenly--
[radio turns off] - Hey, ladies.
- Dave. - Hey, babe.
- Any wine for me? - Dinner's at 6:30.
- I'll be there. [dogs barking in distance,
birds chirping] Daddy! Hey. [kisses child] - How are my girls?
- Great. Yeah?
No hello, Helen? [guitar music] - Hey, Date Rape.
- Don't call me that. [talk radio]
Something about it that's... [door opens] [squeaking] [door thuds closed] [footsteps] I name you then blame you
just to shame you, right? Let's call it that. No one takes responsibility
for their own actions. [clears throat] What's up, monkey? Helen has a question. Maybe you have
a question. Um...
we both have a question. Helen's studying
genetics in school, and since our moms
are sisters and you're our dad,
we were just...just wondering if we were...inbred. [laughs] It's not funny! No, sorry. Sorry. No, I married
your moms consecutively,
not concurrently, which makes you
and Helen first cousins
and sisters. Half. [grunts] It's all perfectly legal and genetically up to
insurance industry standards. You're not gonna turn
into mongoloids
anytime soon, if that's what
you're asking. You're not inbred.
You know what you are? You're native. - It's sad.
- They're already dead. They can't commit suicide. [Margaret]
Is this a new TV show? [Helen]
No. I'm trying
to make it up. [Barbara]
It sounds like it.
The ghosts are depressed? [Helen]
No. I was thinking
about maybe making it a graphic novel
or something. [Barbara]
You could do that. Suicidal
ghosts. I would actually
like to see that. They want out.
So these people,
who I think are actually Barbara, where's the olives?
There's no olives. I'm sorry.
I don't know. I think we're out. I'll look, but I
think we're out. They're complete
barbarians. And they have just as many
problems as we do. Why do you let her
put that on the wall? Helen's poster? Yeah, that little collage. It's amazing. She's been
working really hard on it. She's worked on that thing
for three weeks. - [chuckles]
It's amazing, is it? - It is amazing.
- It's quite something. [Barbara]
I think it should be
in a museum. That's what I think. [girls laughing] [Margaret]
Don't you tell your mother
you learned that from me. [Helen]
Here, give me
your plate, Marg. And that's not okay
if that's a bowl. May I sleep
with you tonight? I have sketching
to do. Please. Well, so that's not
a no, is it? That would be
a very nice way to say no. What about...
a nice way to say yes? What about
after your sketching? No, no... [Barbara]
I'm gonna be up all night. [laughs] Aunt Bee, is there
any more broccoli? Are you asking
for more vegetables? Only broccoli because
I like eating the stems. Helen, I'm curious about
that artwork you have on the wall there. - What is it?
- What kind of a mother
are you? - She's a broccoli hoarder.
- What does it mean? What does it mean? Yeah, what does that mean?
That collage? Well, it's these, like,
little bits of paper, and you, like, cut them out and you glue them
together and make
another picture. Okay, so you have
like a man's head and a woman's heel digging
into his head and stepping on his mouth
and... - It's art, Dave. It's art.
- We can be grateful
that he noticed. A naked woman
with the blood
flowing from her vagina. Alright. Okay. - You have the C word
prominently displayed.
- Alright. You have eyes.
That's great.
What's the problem? What is the problem?
What is the problem? - Oh, let it be, would you?
- Margaret? Do you like her collage? I'll ask it.
What is it? Yeah, it's pretty.
It just needs more color. More color. [Margaret]
Like rainbows. Honey, how's your spaghetti? - Pretty good.
- Yeah? That's good. How's yours? It's very good, thank you.
You should try some. Oh, I'm fine, thank you. It's another four
weeks, but... Do you want
to cuddle later? I'm glad he sees it now. I have a boyfriend. Cheat on him. Like you cheat
on your taxes? I don't cheat on my taxes. Okay? You can't cheat
on something you never committed to. How do you know how much
you pay for taxes anyway? I think I'm gonna
go take a walk,
look for some olives. Come on. Would you sit
and have something to eat? [Margaret]
He wouldn't be like this
if you guys weren't so hard on him. [low chatter] [Margaret]
It's the truth. [Helen, Barbara]
No, it's not the truth. [Margaret]
Well, he is too hard
on you, but still... [Dave sighs] ♪ Listen to the rhythm
of the gentle Bossa Nova ♪ ♪ You'll be dancing
with 'em too ♪ ♪ before the night is over ♪ ♪ How can you lose? ♪ ♪ The lights are
much brighter there ♪ ♪ You can forget
all your troubles ♪ ♪ forget all your cares ♪ [piano player shouts]
And where you go?
- ♪ Downtown ♪ That's right. ♪ Thingsll be great
when you're... ♪ [audience]
♪ Downtown ♪ [piano player]
♪ Don't wait a minute more ♪ Yeah, Dave Brown's
just too plain a name
for someone like me. What, you don't have
a moniker? You don't have a moniker,
like something your cop
buddies call you? - You know the lingo.
- Yeah, I know the-- Yeah, my brother was
on the San Berdoo Sheriffs. - Yeah?
- Yeah. - Ah.
- Yeah. I got a little, uh...
I got a thing for cops. [laughs] You sure you don't have
a thing for your brother? What, no!
No! [piano player continues
in background] Nice!
[laughs] That was a very,
very impressive-- No, thank you.
I don't smoke. - You don't smoke?
- No. I don't need it. Then that wasn't
as impressive as it would have been. No, it was still
a very impressive trick. No smoking in here, sir. - Jesus Christ.
- Aw...[laughs] You used to let me
smoke in here. Poor little rose. That's for you. Wow. I didn't
get you anything. That's okay.
You'll think of something. So come on, tell me.
What's your moniker? - What does it matter?
- It matters. Could tell me everything
I need to know about you. You know,
maybe a little bit more. - [clears throat] Oh, come on. Don't be shy.
What is it? Let me guess. Is it, um... Roughhouse Dave? [snickers] Yeah? Or, uh... I like that. [laughs]
Or Bang Bang Brown? Date Rape Dave. Why's that? Rumor from when I worked
Hollywood Sex, and I can't confirm it
and I won't deny it. So tell me. Maybe I killed a bad guy,
maybe I didn't. Either way, he got
what he paid for and hell never hurt
another woman ever again. Huh. Is that your foot? Uh...yeah. Oh, stop, stop, stop. Okay, do it again,
do it again, do it again. Woo! [woman gasping,
Dave moaning] [laughs] Oh, well. [blows air out] [man on loudspeaker,
speaking Spanish] [police radio chatter] [squealing brakes, crash,
broken glass] Hey, what's your
fucking problem? Ow! [grunting, hitting] [Newscaster[
Brown was videotaped
severely beating a motorist named Shondell Parmallee
in what civil rights groups are calling old-school
L.A.P.D. brutality "revisited, revived,
and regurgitated." Local activists have launched
new attacks on the L.A.P.D. for its culture
of racial misconduct" while Officer Brown remains
on limited duty awaiting possible
disciplinary action and pending civil lawsuits.
[kettle whistling] The Shondell-gate matter
is in the early stages
of investigation, as opposed
to the Rampart Scandal, which, as you know,
is a longstanding highly complex
and multifaceted issue - of great social import.
- Son of a bitch. That's Bill B. for you.
He got highly complex,
multifaceted and great social import
into one sentence, and he didn't say
a damn thing. I'll say this though. [knocking]
The citizens
of this great city are sick and tired...
- Yeah? ...of the old way
of doing business. They want action, not-- How was your day? - Good. You?
- Pretty good. Is Helen still mad at me? I don't know.
What are we watching? Um, just... yeah.
[switches channel
to non-news] Hey, did you do
your homework? No. Great idea. How about we make this
a homework-free day? Not that you'll
tell your mom. And well just
watch television. Okay. What do you want to watch?
Is this good? - Yeah.
- Okay. [TV show] [TV]
Jab it in and then
turn it towards the valve. Suction. Suction! Now. Now! [continue indistinctly] Where the hell
is the blood? Alex, grab that clamp
and push it back as hard as you can. - I can't
- Come on! [crowd chanting]
No justice, no peace!
No justice, no peace! No justice, no peace!
No justice, no peace! No justice, no peace!
No justice, no peace! No justice, no peace!
No justice, no peace! No justice, no peace!
No justice, no peace! Hey, Dave.
Man of the hour! No justice, no peace!
No justice, no peace! No justice, no peace! [indistinct conversation] [buzzer] Date Rape? [Detectives]
Thanks for making us
look good, Dave. You're the man!
Good job! [men clapping]
Thank you. [officer]
Thighs apart, heads up. Have a nice day. [chanting continues
in distance] What's the word, Chief? Close the door. [fax machine dialing] [David sighs]
So what would you
like me to say? I'll, uh, I'll say
whatever I need to. [fax machine] Have you thought
about retirement? Uh...no. In fact, um... if you force me
to retire and file on me, I'll plead not guilty,
take it to trial,
and represent myself. I'll be playing to a mentally
deficient jury, so I'll lose, though I'll work Vietnam
for all it's worth. I'll have PTSD, DDT,
TNT, Agent Orange, and the Creeping Chinese
Crud before it's over, not to mention 24 years
on the job. I'll draw a fine
and a suspended sentence. Court TV will broadcast
the whole thing. I'll have my own show
on Fox News inside one week. You'll be my first guest. So you have thought
about it? I don't intend
to retire, Miss Confrey. [softly]
All right. You know, Rampart
has become a shitstorm of such epic proportions,
legally and financially. We have bullshit
police brutality complaints, bullshit felony
evidence plants, wrong door fuck-ups--
we have them all. I have a ton of testimony,
solicited and unsolicited, that is ambiguous, if not
downright indecipherable. The county's going bankrupt
paying out lawsuit money. The D.A.'s office
and L.A.P.D. are hemorrhaging prestige, and a great many
hardened criminals are out on the street
way before they should be. And now, Dave,
we have you to deal with. And we can't afford you. So how do we solve a problem
like Dave Brown?
You tell me. I was under attack. I went after the suspect.
End of story. The tape doesn't
show everything.
They never do. - I had to neutralize him.
- The tape shows you brutally beating a man
almost to death. I think on his part it was an
assault with a deadly weapon. You think he drove
into you on purpose? It was an assault
with a deadly weapon. - I got out of the car,
- It was an accident. - It was a collision.
- I intended to help
that gentleman. - He opened the door into me...
- I'm afraid that's not - what the tape shows.
- and started running. A lot of cops would have
shot him and got a medal. I took it easy on him,
and now I'm here before you. I don't think what we saw
was taking it easy on anyone. Correct me if I'm wrong, Cal,
but nine out of ten cops would have shot him
right there. Do you admit
that you overreacted? You seem to have everything
under control here, and, uh, I do appreciate
the opportunity. Just remember
which side you're on. ♪ If I could go back
to our mistakes ♪ ♪ We both know how
this act is gonna end ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ After Boston and Seattle ♪ ♪ we thought maybe
California was the place ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ Thought I might
hold out awhile ♪ ♪ and we could start to move
from grass to grace ♪ You're wearing
a courtroom suit and you have
litigator eyes. You here for me? No. Dave. Linda. [groans]
Gordy! Isn't there a game on? [Gordy]
I can't find the clicker. Yeah. Tell me you're
not a lawyer. Okay, I'm not
a lawyer. Are you selling something?
Art? Insurance?
Pharmaceuticals? - What about real estate?
- Great. That's good. Yep. I'm in
from Phoenix. My 87-year-old husband... he's taking a six-hour nap. I'm taking a five-hour walk.
How's that work for you? - Perfect.
- Good. - I am looking to refinance.
- That's good. Gordy. Anyway, thank you
for talking to me. Yeah, well, I figure
I'll be safe. Everybody's watching
your every move. Now they're watching you. Maybe I like
being watched. Well, I'm watching you. You are the most beautiful
woman I've ever seen... in this bar. laughs] [heavy breathing] - [moans] What are you doing? [clears throat] I gotta go. Sneaking out on me? - You don't have to go.
- I gotta go. Come here. Come here.
Give me that purse. I gotta go. You don't have
to go anywhere. - I gotta go. I do.
- You don't. Okay, I gotta go.
I have to go. You have to stay. [mariachi music outside] - What's the matter?
- Jesus! Hartshorn. You too famous for me
all of a sudden? It's all
deliberate provocation. They predicted your response,
and you fell for it. And who are they? They? They who
don't like you. And why me? Because they
don't like you. Look, what do
I know? Maybe it's a coincidence
the camera was there. Look, if this
is the gang fucks,
I don't mind. Or generic criminal scum,
bogus lawsuit
settlement scum. Press scum.
I can deal with scum. But if this is Rampart,
L.A.P.D., some fucking
girly politician setting me up
as a shit magnet to take the heat
off the fucking scandal, I gotta go deep into this. Look, what can I do? I am just
a law-abiding retiree enjoying his golden years. Fuck you with the Mickey
Cohen routine, old man. You've got your fingers
in more Department twat than any active cop I know. Now, milk your contacts. I've got cash left
from the Harris job. Thanks for that,
by the way. You could just stop
beating people up. Mm-hmm. This isn't your father's
L.A.P.D., you know. I know. It's more fun than
a barrel of monkeys. [laughs]
It is a barrel of monkeys. [both laugh] I'll get through it.
I always do. You know, when you first
came in the Department, I wasn't certain
whether or not you were the dumbest
rookie ever or the most bull-headed.
[laughs] I'm still debating it. That's what my old man
said about you-- you were the most
bullheaded man he ever met. [laughs] [cup clatters] I should have filed
Murder One on you for that date-rape shooting. I would've booked him
on eleven counts of rape, Sodomy One, penetration
with a foreign weapon, etc. Gentlemen, can we talk
about the present
circumstances and not go back
into the ancient past? Fourteen years, tops. I'd say your punishment
breached legal status as well as moral code. "The law must acknowledge
and occasionally
accommodate the extraordinary
vicissitudes of justice."
Judge D.T. Eagleton, 1946. I don't know that quote. Yeah, 'cause
you went to Cal State. - Gentlemen...
- At least I passed the bar. - Knock it off.
- Barely, I'm told. Hence, politics. Should I break out
the milk and cookies here? Can we actually talk
about the possibility of your holding
a press conference together, addressing what's happened
with Mr. Parmallee, issuing an apology,
and moving on? It would help if I'd done
something wrong. Oh, you've done
nothing wrong. Someone planted
a camera in my way. Maybe it's you,
maybe it's someone smart... definitely smarter than me,
because I don't stop to see if there's
a photographer nearby when I do
the people's dirty work. So you can't see yourself
taking any responsibility
that moves us beyond this? No, because
the only thing
that's wrong here is that a camera
caught him doing
police work. [Dave laughs] Is this a fucking
joke to you?
You think it's funny? What is funny
and peculiar to me
is how this office spends all its time
going after decent cops. Did you do it? Do what? Without admitting guilt
or complicity, did you actually kill
that rapist? Alleged rapist? Did you do it? [sighs]
I don't live in the past. Is that a yes? Let me rephrase. If you
were to have done it,
could you tell me why? So women would love me. [laughs]
I don't think that
could be the reason. It's too lame. I'm curious why
you're so curious. We can talk about it
this weekend. Give me a call. Brown, I have
your number. [elevator buzzing]
I bet you do. [radio]
One of the stupidest trades
in the history of sports. [overlapping conversation] [muffled traffic sounds]
[dog barking distantly] [radio]
Hello, Sam.
Good-bye, Sam. 94.7.
The world is listening. [radio continues indistinctly] [exhales heavily] [radio chatter continues] [people chanting outside] What did you do
to the Captain? Come on, let's get back
to homework, honey. You have anything
you want to say to me? As in what? As in why am I still
collecting a paycheck? Shondell skipped town. His nerves are shot.
And that civil lawsuit
is still going forward. Someone upstairs
is pulling strings for you. Close the door. [overlapping shouting
continues outside] [Dave]
Shoot. [door closes]
Close the door with you
on the outside. I'm L.A.P.D. and I want
to stay L.A.P.D. That's the most important
thing for me. Why? Why what? I'm just asking.
What if we negotiated
a settlement? Why is staying a cop
the most important thing? Because I'm a hard-charging
dutiful motherfucker, and I want to explicate
the L.A.P.D.'s somewhat
hyperbolized misdeeds with true panache,
regardless of my
alleged transgressions. Capiche? In other words, I have
nowhere else to go, so... if I get canned
by the Department,
I swear to God, I'll study
for the bar this time,
and come back here and work as your
token fascist. [male lawyer laughs] [clears throat]
Well... we'll need a retainer.
That's standard. [rattling outside] [dogs barking distantly] [cocks gun] - You're so cute.
- No, you're cute. [click] [kissing, giggling] - Have you seen my pick?
- No. - Are you still mad at me?
- Yeah. Why? What did I do? [sighs]
Whatever. You didn't even finish it. I just quit. Right. Hey. You remember when
we used to make up
songs together? You know, like that one... [sings]
I am you and you are me... - We were always
meant to be...
- No. You are me and I am you... - And we were meant
to see it through.
- No. You have to remember that. I have no idea
what you're talking about. Let's take a walk. No, I'm busy. [news continues on TV
in background] How long you
been standing there? You are me, I am you... [tray clatters] Get out. Get out, Dave. [door shuts] [TV]
And necessary conflict has
been brought to a judge... [continues indistinctly] [cell phone rings] Yeah? Ah. Hey. Back in town? Yeah, it was fun. What do you mean,
the truth? [heels stomping on floor] [Latin music plays] [Dave]
So you were lying
about everything? Dave, we were playing
with each other. C'mon. I liked the way
you moved, okay?
That was it. It's like a John Wayne thing
or something. I don't know. And I like to suck cock.
So sue me. [Latin music continues] It seemed like a fine idea
at the time, didn't it? And you were asking
for it, Dave. "Tell me you're
not a lawyer." I did. There's something
you're not telling me. What, that I hate the scum
that I represent?
Okay, I told you. And when I was
at the D.A.'s office, at least I got to see
these guys go down. That's not it. Dave, I help
criminals go free with County cash
in their fuckin' pockets
because L.A.P.D. fucks up. And 8 times out of 10,
they're right back
at Rampart again. You're giving me
a closing statement. - You came looking for me.
- No, I didn't. What is it
you're not telling me? You're either lying to me or you're withholding.
This is what I do. [music continues] [applause] ♪ ♪ The guy that you killed,
the guy--the date-rape guy... Look, I'm a defense attorney,
okay? And I'm not supposed to,
but I respect what you did. I'm sorry. No proof I killed anyone. I have daughters. [singers whooping]
[applause] I'm sorry. Can I sleep
with you tonight? [music continues] ♪ ♪ Yes. [birds chirping] [Dave]
Nice surprise. - Hello.
- Hello. Was she any good? She was. [whispers]
I've got to talk to you. Can't it wait? No. I'm kind of busy
right now. We've got to put
the houses on the market. You've got to start thinking
about finding another
place to live. Okay? No. That's not okay. You've got to do it.
This isn't working. You can't do that. Everybody living
on top of each other like this? You know it isn't working
as well as I do. - We've got to--
- You can't do that. We gotta go our own ways. You can't make the decisions
for us anymore. You've got to let us go. That's not acceptable.
We've got to keep
everybody together. This is gonna blow over,
I promise you. I know.
We've been trying to keep us together
for a long time. But we've got to know
when we're licked. [whispers]
You've got to let us go. - [whispers] Don't say that.
- You've got to let us go. [louder]
I'll never let you go. - That's what I mean.
- I'll never...let you go. [Hartshorn singing]
You won't see me no more, 'cause I'm gonna stay
down here in L.A. They all know someone
like me is more dangerous on the witness stand
than on the streets. - Right?
- The way I see it, You gave them
only one option. Top brass is gonna try
to bury the beating
and the scandal and keep you
as the sideshow. Keep the press guessing
while they investigate it
into oblivion. Just stick to the assault
with a deadly weapon
routine, and they won't
touch you. Well, I hope you're right. Meanwhile, I'm
hemorrhaging cash. I know that twitch. [sighs] [quietly]
Okay. There's gonna be
a high-stakes card game at the Crystal
Market tonight. You didn't hear it
from me, buddy. Thanks, Hart. You don't know
how much this means to me. I was gonna--I was gonna
mention it before, but... You know, man, the shape
you're in, jeez... [sighs] I hate to see you
bled dry like that. How you doing? Are you okay? I'm fine. You're hanging in there. - [laughs] Hanging in there.
- You're hanging in there. - You keeping it going.
- Yeah. [Spanish talk radio] [Spanish radio continues] [heavy bass music plays
distantly] [overlapping chatter] [men]
Yeah, I'm in
on this one, too. What have you got? Alright,
I'm in on this one. I'm in on this one.
Twenty on that one. [men shouting on street] [men continue talking] [men shouting] Shut the fuck up! Don't even look up!
Look the fuck down! Stop moving,
you motherfucker! Look the fuck down! [shouting] [man shouting in Spanish] [grunting] [men fighting, yelling] [cocks gun] [gunshots] Aah! [man yells, garbled] I got kids, man, please!
Don't fucking kill me! Take off your mask. Take off your mask! Alright, man! Please don't fucking
shoot me, man! Please! [dogs barking distantly] Get some money
out of there. What do I do with it,
man? Put it in your
fucking pocket! Hurry up, goddamnit! Go! Go! Go! [dogs continue barking] [gunshots] [gunshot] [dogs barking] [approaching sirens] [nearby sirens] [radio]
Brown is embroiled
in a high-stakes card game robbery that he apparently... [newscasters talking] [reporter]
Mike, is this a two box
or a three box? I don't remember
what you said. That's the part that gets me
the most upset, Mom, is when you
keep saying sorry. - "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
- I know, I just feel bad. Why do you feel bad?
You didn't do anything.
What did you do? That's the point.
I didn't do anything. You made-- [soft music plays] ♪ Did you ever go clear? ♪ ♪ The last time we saw you ♪ [door closes] ♪ You looked so much older ♪ ♪ Your famous blue raincoat ♪ ♪ Was torn at the shoulder ♪
[footsteps approach] ♪ You'd been to the station ♪ ♪ To meet every train ♪ [Dave]
I'm sorry about
the reporters. Do you have cancer? [chalk scratching
on paper] Hmm? Because if you don't,
I'm done. We're done. He fired at me
three times. I returned fire
in self-defense. It was self-defense.
I swear to God. You need rest.
You need to eat. I didn't know about
the card game. I swear. You need to set up shop
someplace else. Right now. I talked to Barb. [clears throat] Big Jim. The hookers that work
the bar weekends--
your call. I notify Central
Nightwatch or I don't. You can't keep
doing this, Dave. A fifth of scotch,
a room, and a wake-up call. I could lose my job. At least you'll be
on the outside. [bells on door jingle] Your bun boy honked
a Vice cop at the Pink
Parrot last night. He's got a parole hold,
so no bail. Lorazapam and Phenobarb,
and it all goes away. [door closes] [vacuum cleaner humming] [vacuum continues] [vacuum turns off,
maids' voices] [maids laughing] [vacuum starts again] [muffled laughter, voices] [woman's shrill laughter
under vacuum hum] [cars honking below,
sirens] [food truck plays
La Cucaracha] We've taken a look
at your teams report. It's a pretty
extensive package. Not germane
to the issue, sir. I'd like the event
to be judged ad hoc. Empirical knowledge
often distorts the content of the act
under scrutiny, sir. You're not making
this easy. And you're not making
friends here. I have all the friends
I need at this stage
in my life, sir. Describe the events
that led up to your use of deadly force,
Officer Brown. You're alive.
And an individual named... Jose Lancha Macias
is dead. Now, how did that occur? [Dave clears throat] At approximately 2350 hours,
I was parked near the southeast
corner of Ewing Street
and Echo Park Avenue. A man approached
my patrol car and stated that he thought
he had seen suspicious men
in the adjacent alley. The alley in question
was just to the west
of my location. At this time, I observed
an unknown suspect
with a gun chasing another man
who appeared to be unarmed. I identified myself verbally
and began chasing
the man with the gun. [rap music] [rap music continues] Get on past me. [rap music continues] [Dave whispers]
Who tipped you to the game? [Hartshorn]
You know I can't
give you that, Dave. You got a tip.
I improvised.
There's a man dead. How do you feel about that? The streets smell
cleaner already. L.A.P.D. is back in town,
and it's called Dave Brown. Where's your gratitude? Glad I could help. - I need to know.
- Forget it, I can't. I don't play games,
I don't name names. [Dave slams table,
person shushes Dave] [whispering]
Shh yourself, goddammit! That's the way I handle it.
You understand? Yeah. It's a good motto. What are the odds
they go and I go the same night
to take that game down? What are the odds? You handled it, Dave.
Hurray. I could have
got killed myself. You didn't. I don't know how much
more of this shit
I can take. - Jesus Christ!
- Where the hell were you? I left you six messages. I'm not your
fucking girlfriend.
My battery died. I nearly got killed
the other night while you were out
looking for a bone
to chew on. Where the hell were you? [glass shatters] Fuck you. [laughs] You're insane, Dave.
You're insane. Well, guess what, Linda?
It takes one to know one. I want the truth. You came after me
that night. Yeah, of course I fucking did.
You're the man
of my dreams, right? Who the hell
are you working for? You watch
too much television. I told you
I'm on your side! I'm not working for anyone
or anybody. - You're paranoid, Dave.
- You're breaking
my heart. Yeah? You broke
into my fucking house. I located your
security flaw. - Oh, fuck you.
- Your pool gate was open. [sighs] Should I leave? Mm-hmm.
Yeah. [coughs] [coughs] I'm sorry.
I'm a mess. [kisses] Will you sleep with me? Just tonight? No. You drink
too much. Really? You're great in the sack,
Linda, but you lie
to be liked. Is that right? That's right. Yeah, well, guess what? It takes one to know one. [clears throat] You're a bitch.
You know that? Mm-hmm. General?
[coughs] General? [coughing] General! Get over here, now! [Spanish rap music] How are you doing? Doing okay.
How're you? I'm good. How are you? - Didn't we just
go through this?
- Yeah. Hey...look at me. Look me right
in the eye. Did you see anything
unusual lately? No. Anything around
the Crystal Market? No. I said no.
I didn't see shit. - You sure?
- Yeah. - You positive?
- Not a damn thing. [Spanish rap continues] Fancy. Go ahead, take two. What the hell happened
to your head? Watch that beard. Don't want to see you
go up in smoke. Two dickhead cops broke flashlights on me. Ow! Fuck! Don't do that! Just keeping
the streets safe. [laughing] I'm not hurting anybody. If I sell a little,
smoke a little, it's no big deal
to nobody. I'm nobody. I'm nothing.
I'm nobody. Nobody. They got fucking niggers
slinging golf balls up and down these streets. All talk, cavi, cavi,
cavi, cavi. Want to crack
my head open. Asshole cops. Give me a sip. [engine revs away] Give me a sip. Here. Call this lawyer,
sue the L.A.P.D. Linda. Is she hot?
Linda...Fentress? And blonde all over. Fuck, yeah. Why, your thing
still working? No. No. Not really. But a starving man eats
the best pussy. Are we brothers? Huh? You're my brother. Keep it... brother. [Spanish music
in background] [bells on door jingle] - Hey, man.
- Can I help you? Let me get
a number six. [whispers]
A number six. Okay. It'll be
five minutes. You fucking with me? What? I'm listening.
What are you, I.A.? Man, I'm just sitting here
trying to get my shrimp. Is that what you're gonna
say next time I spot you? Here we go.
Here we go. Kyle Timkins,
D.A. Investigator. You say both
robbers escaped? That's kind of hard
to believe. Also, it's a big gap
between the time
the neighbors say they heard the shots
and you reported
the incident. Also, it's kind of strange that you would be
in that location
without your radio. Why isn't the Robbery Unit
on this when both robbers
did indeed escape? - Well, your recent misconduct--
- Perceived misconduct. Perceived misconduct brings
into question your
mental state on the night
of the incident. That's why I'm here. Listen, uh, Jack-- No, I'm Kyle. Listen, Jack... you got this assignment
because I'm controversial and your ancestors
were stolen from Africa. You got this assignment
to cover the Department
on perceived racial bias pertaining to Shondell
J. Parmallee and other
shit-faced scum. You're mad as hell, and you
want me to know it. But while you're
playing gumshoe, bear in mind
that I am not a racist. Fact is, I hate
all people equally. And if it helps, I've slept
with some of your people. Now, you want to be mad
at someone, try J. Edgar Hoover.
He was a racist. Or the Founding Fathers,
all slave-owners. Me, I'm just doing my job. All that may be true, but we're not here
talking about me. We're here talking
about you. Okay? Officer Hoover? I got
another question. Why are you still
with the Department? After all the shit
that's going on, the scandal,
the Mayor, the D.A.,
the Chief of Police, why do they still
have you around? Must be 'cause
I'm innocent. Nice to meet you, Kyle. [starts engine] You all have seen how
every wannabe gangbanger walking down the street
being pulled down
by their dogs... Hey, Boss! [whistles]
Boss! Get him! Get him, Boss!
Boss, what did I say?
Sit tight. Hey, Boss! [whistles] Dave. Stay up late last night? Of course. How you feeling? Good, good, good. Just waiting for the pits
to eat a protestor. You know you're
being watched? What do you mean? Good boy!
There he goes. There he goes. [protestors chanting
in background] Come on.
Come on, boss, get 'im. Yum, yum, yum, yum, yum. Come on, get 'im.
Get 'im, go, go, go! Get 'im, boss, get 'im. I'm glad you found me. It wasn't hard. I just
wanted to see for myself. Mom says you're
deeper in the shit. Those are my words,
not hers. Well... people keep telling me that. Well, maybe
it's true, then. [sighs]
Yeah, I am. You took a cab, right? Tell me you didn't
take a bus all the way out here
to the goddamn jungle. It's the Barrio, Dad.
It's not the fucking jungle. - And yes, I took a bus.
- I told you a thousand
times, babe. - I don't want you--
- Don't call me babe. I don't want you straying
east of La Brea-- It's disgusting. How is--How's school? It sucks. It's full of, um... candy-assed future
fags and dykes, like me. Those are your words,
not mine. I never said that. How's it going at home? [clicking lighter] Margaret's on to you.
She's angry. Guess that's something
every Dave Brown daughter
has to go through. [lighter clicking] You're a dinosaur,
Date Rape. You're a classic racist,
a bigot, a sexist. A womanizer, a chauvinist,
a misanthrope, homophobic, clearly, or maybe
you just don't like yourself. How long did it take you
to rehearse that? [crying softly] Well, say something. Don't touch me.
Say something! Why don't I drive you home? No, I don't want
to go home. They're having
an open house. I don't want to be
around all those hideous people. I want to be at Jo's. Joe/Joseph
or Jo/Josephine? I'll just take the bus! Helen...
I'm kidding! [sighs] [cell phone ringing] Yeah. [Hartshorn]
Your phone is tapped.
Don't say a word. Jesus, the shit I have
to take care of
because of you. You're just like
your father, Dave. You think you're smarter
than you are. Every shooting testimony
contains inconsistencies, Otherwise, you wouldn't
have a job. No man who ever shoots
and kills another man is entirely cogent
in the moment. No plan survives
contact with the enemy. Did you learn that
with the first man
you killed? I learned that
serving my country as a non-electric
pop-up target in an often misunderstood
crusade for liberty
and justice turned puppet show
for politicians... Called Vietnam. Known as
the Vietnam war. Can we not go
to Vietnam today? Let's fast-forward
to the present. Why are you looking
to hang me? Why me? I know you're setting me up.
Blago's got it in for me. Answer my question.
Of all the truly rotten
cops out there, why are you after
the one guy who gets it? The one cop
who gets it? - Yeah, are you in on this?
- Are you fucking kidding me? Let me remind you
that several years ago you killed an alleged
serial date-rapist
premeditatively. Did you know that
he had a wife
and three small children? She had a nervous breakdown
after his death, and ended up
in an insane asylum,
where she spent nine years until she cut her wrists
with a disposable
razor blade. The kids were raised,
by the way, in foster homes. Two of them alleged that
they were sexually abused
by their foster fathers. So please don't
come in here whining. You've got a lot of nerve. Up this time. And something
to make it hard. [throbbing music] [mellow music] [pop music echoes] [singing echoes]
[mellow music] [intense drumming,
mellow tune] [singing echoes] [loud musical beep] [loud musical beep] [loud musical beep] [loud musical beep] [throbbing dance music] [surreal music] [heavy bass] [vomiting] [heavy bass throbs] [man]
Watch it, man. I mean, I feel like... Dave, what are you
doing here? Listen, my lawyers... are burning through
my money and, uh... we're gonna have to
tighten our belts. We're gonna have
a trial date soon, so... Well, what are you even
doing here, Dave? I came to talk to you
about this. You don't live here
anymore. You can't walk in
like you still live here. [Dave]
Oh, for God's sakes. You know what I think? I think you were
a dirty cop from day one. [Barbara]
Okay. You were a dirty cop
with a dirty mind and you dirtied
all of us up by default. I think you think
you can just ride this out, thinking you can go back
to your fucking... - You've got to go.
- tough guy, law and order
bullshit. It's over, Dave.
It's over. You know what
happened to you? - Just let him go.
- First the bar and then, oh, yeah,
the women and the booze... Cathy. - You're a selfish...
- Come on. Selfish, selfish man, Dave. It's not worth it.
Just let him go. You were a bad husband.
You're a bad father. - You're a bad lay.
- Why are you doing this? - Just let him go.
- All this--all this man keeping the family
together bullshit? It's only fucked the girls up
forever. Forever. [Barbara]
Helen is out here. Can you--
can you stop? You don't know one thing
about your girls. You are a fraud, Dave. [whispers]
That's enough. - You're a--you're a fraud.
- You've got to go. [Dave]
Okay. It's okay. Bye. [Barbara]
Come on, come on,
come on. Everything's okay.
Come on, let's go inside. I'm sorry, honey. [tires squealing] [tapping,
Dave sighs] [sirens whooping past] Damn it. I'm--I'm thirsty. I bet you are. Come on, just give me
a pull. Just give me a pull. Get your fucking hand
out of the car. Come on. You're my brother.
Come on, just a sip. A sip. A sip. Give me a smoke. Give me a smoke.
I want a cigarette.
Give me a cigarette. No. Yeah. Come on,
give me a drink. Sober up. [loud funk music passes by] Linda's a good woman.
She's taken really
good care of me. We're gonna take all
your asshole friends down. Can you spot me a fiver?
I don't feel so hot. Sell your wheelchair. Fuck you, white skin.
I got robbed. [police radio chatter] I need a blanket. Five bucks, please.
Just five bucks. Do I look like
Santa Claus to you? No, you don't look
like Santa Claus.
You're my brother. Us vets got to stick
together, don't we? - I'm not your brother, okay?
- Yes, you are, yes, you are. - I don't have a family.
- Yes, you are. Yes, you do. I'll pay you back. I'll pay you back
when Linda and I
make a killing. - Stop saying her name.
- Linda. You stop saying
her name, okay? You say her name
one more time, - I'll fucking hurt you.
- You don't get it. You don't fucking get it.
We're gonna be rich as shit. I'm gonna go
around the world. I'm gonna go around
the world. Round the world.
Around the world. Around the world,
r-around the world. Round the world.
I'm gonna tell my story, and they're gonna
fucking pay me. I'm gonna be on talk shows.
I'm gonna have a suit. - What did you tell her?
- I told her everything. - Tell me exactly
what you told her.
- I told her my plan... about we're gonna get
a big house together, somewhere in
Northern California on a lot of property
where anybody can come who needs a place,
has a place where you can shower,
where you can hang out, or you can get
your head right. All my friends
are gonna be there, so you should
definitely come. And Linda will make us eggs. What about
the Crystal Market? - Yeah. I told her everything.
- Everything? Everything. Come on, give me
a drink. [shouts]
Ah! Get the fuck out of here! [wheelchair clattering] [serene soundtrack] ♪ ♪ What the hell are you doing? Why, are you afraid
of something? Will you come inside, okay?
Come on. It's raining. Yeah, I can see that.
I'm already in.
What does it matter? What are you doing? General told you. Who? - He saw me shoot that man...
- Dave-- in the Crystal Market
and drop a piece on him. Baby, I don't want
to hear this. Come on, it's raining.
Come inside. He got roughed up
by the L.A.P.D. That's all. You gonna believe
him over me? - What?
- Get in the pool. I'm not getting
in the fucking pool. No. If you're on my side,
get in the fucking pool. No. You're crazy.
I'm going in. Get in
the fucking pool. No. I'm going in.
You make the next move. - Don't fucking touch me.
- You get in the fucking pool. Get off. - Get off.
- Don't go inside.
Get in this pool. No. - Come here.
- No. - Don't.
- Get in this pool. No. You bitch. Come in. You think you
can take me down? I don't need you!
I don't need anyone! I'm just a fucking cop! I'm a fucking soldier!
I'm dispensable! There're a lot of other
cocks to suck! [muffled]
You're heartless, Linda!
You played me! I hate you!
I fucking hate you!! [muffled]
Are you even listening,
you bitch?! Get in this fucking pool! Discrepancies
and inconsistencies. Ah, Jesus. Dave, I've got
six card players, all of them claiming that
it was a no weapons game. Four of them
heard the shots. All of them claim
it was two sets
of three pops, all at the same clip, which indicates you
fired your weapon first. Right? Now, I traced
the gun right back to this station right here. Ballistics show
that the gun was involved in another officer shooting. Alright? So I'm sweating the cop
that sold you the gun, because not only can I prove
that his shooting was dirty, I can prove that
your shooting was dirty, just like I can prove
you dirty. I got two eyewitnesses
that saw your ass outside of that
Crystal Market right before
it jumped off. So go home
and pack a bag. Make sure it's
a wetsuit in there, 'cause I'm sending
your ass up the river. Oh, come on, baby. I've been upriver,
motherfucker, when you were still
sucking on your mama's tit. My mother died
when I was born,
you racist son-of-a-bitch. [laughs] You save that Grand Wizard
shit for the jury. I need you to help me
put a leash on Kyle Timkins. Help you? That's all I do is help. I am not the help. Crystal Market. [sighs]
Again with the Market. No, still with the Market. You're covering for someone
who's trying to bury me. Now, I'm not sure I understand
the rules, okay? The rules change. The laws change.
The people change. They accommodate.
They adapt. But not you. Why is that? Explain to me
exactly what happened
at the Crystal Market. [scoffs]
I've got to get
away from you. I've got a business
to protect, contacts. I don't know you.
I don't know-- Put that away. Why me, Hart? Why me? Stop whining. Why you?
Why me? Why anybody? You set me up. You set yourself up,
Dave. Give me the gun. Give me the gun. [Dave sighs] [grunts] [laughing] [grunts and laughs] [seagulls crying] [laughing] [gasps] [Hartshorn panting] Call an ambulance. [Hartshorn coughs
and gasps] [light knocking] [cocks gun] [click] Hey. Come in. Wh-what was that noise? Oh, it's the...lock. Come on. Come in. Get out of
the hallway. Please. Come on. Hey...
what a surprise. Do you want
to give it to him? - I thought you wanted to.
- No, I'm fine. [gun clatters] [thud]
[locks clicking] Oh, ah... These are for you. Thank you. - How are you?
- Good. Yeah? So tell me, uh...
what have you been up to? Nothing. We just came by
to drop off the clothes. Oh. Okay. You found me. How'd you do that? There was a caller I.D. - What?
- Caller I.D. You called
the house from here. [laughs]
That's... That's good police work. Yeah, it was
really hard. So... here you are. [laughs] Come on in. Don't be afraid.
You want to sit? - No.
- Can I get you a soda? - No, I'm good.
- Yeah? Okay. [Helen]
You don't want anything? [Margaret]
No, I'm good. You look beautiful,
both of you. Um... [Helen]
Your face looks red. Too much sun. [Helen]
It means
he's been drinking. Haven't you? What? [Helen]
You've been drinking. [Dave]
Well, I just, uh...
Yeah, a little bit. [whispers]
A little bit. [Dave]
Okay. Wow. - Do you wanna go?
- Yeah. - [murmurs]
- Mm. - We're gonna go.
- Okay-- [Dave]
You want to talk
a little bit? - No, that's fine.
- Cool. Hey. Hey. I know why you came. To drop off the clothes. Let's go. Come on. You want to know
if it's true. Every bad thing
you've heard about me? You want me to give you
some kind of way out so it doesn't...
hurt so much? There's no way out. Every single thing
you heard and more, it's... all true. I can never...change. But, uh... I want you to know... I never--I never... hurt any good people. What about us? No, that--that's-- that's not
what I mean, Helen. I don't understand
what you do mean. I... Have I hurt you? I didn't mean to. We gotta go, okay? Hey. - It's okay. It's okay.
- Hey. Come on. [Helen]
It's okay. Hey! Hey, come here! God-- - Come back to the room.
- What are you doing? I love you, monkey. - You know that, right?
- Please don't. [whispers] I'm not
letting you do this. I'm gonna get you
a soda, okay? - No, I--
- I'll get you a soda. Will you come back?
Monkey, come back
to the room, huh? [somber soundtrack] ♪ ♪ [crying softly] [sirens and traffic] [somber music continues] ♪ ♪ [ticking] [airplane engine thrums] [click] [laughs/whimpers] [dogs barking distantly] [car door thuds closed] What's on your mind,
Hoover? [recorder clicks] This is Officer
David D. Brown of the Los Angeles
Police Department. This statement is made
of my own free will. During my twenty-four year
police career I employed brutal and
coercive methods at whim and...created racial animus with reckless disregard
for the law that I was sworn to uphold
as a police officer. On April 15th, 1987, I murdered a business
acquaintance of mine,
Karl Joseph Huneck and rationalized the act as
a morally sound expression
of street justice against a man who I knew
to be a serial date-rapist. I was legally sane
at the time I committed
the act. [Kyle sighs] Over the years,
I've killed many men. Bad guys, all of them. And if there are
one or two exceptions, I can only assume
they ended up
on the wrong end of my gun to satisfy
some karmic breech. This statement
is proffered lucidly. I am not
in a state of duress. [click]
Okay. I'll give you this tape
if you cut me a deal. I don't want your tape. [laughs]
What? Huh? That's not the confession
I want. You want that fucking
Crystal Market case.
You're a fucking idiot. Next time I see you,
I'm putting cuffs on you. Are you out of your mind? Timkins! Take what
You've got, which is
a good case. It's the wrong confession. Take the fucking tape.
You fucking idiot. [car starts] Take this fucking tape! You're a fucking
idiot, Timkins! [car drives away] [laughs] Fucking idiot. [the girls
and mothers chatting] [silverware clanking,
chatting] [man]
But this one has
something in her ear. [laughing]
Oh! Watch. - Oh--
- Where did it go? You can keep it. Where will it say?
Oh, 1882. [laughter] [Barbara]
1882? That's
pretty valuable. [man indistinct] Really? That's so
sweet of you.
Oh, my goodness. [Catherine]
Where you going? [Helen]
Smoke. - What?
- Smoke. What did she say? [family chatting] [soft guitar music,
soundtrack] ♪ ♪ [family chatting continues] [soft music continues] ♪ ♪ [traffic sounds
continue ceaselessly]
