American Me Page #5

Synopsis: This epic depiction of thirty years of Chicano gang life in Los Angeles focuses on a teen named Santana who, with his friends Mundo and the Caucasian-but-acting-Hispanic J.D., form their own gang and are soon arrested for a break-in. Santana gets into trouble again and goes straight from reform school to prison, spending eighteen years there, and becoming leader of a powerful gang, both inside and outside the prison, while there. When he is finally released, he tries to make sense of the violence in his life, in a world much changed from when last he was in it.
Director(s): Edward James Olmos
Production: MCA Universal Home Video
  1 nomination.
 
IMDB:
7.2
Metacritic:
66
Rotten Tomatoes:
75%
R
Year:
1992
125 min
6,346 Views


to Mando Ramos.

Do you like what you do?

It's nothing special.

What do you wanna do?

I don't know.

I used to want to go

to school, you know?

Really learn something.

Why don't you do it?

Oh, man, wouldn't

be that easy now.

I got a kid. I got to work.

I'd be older

than everybody else.

Read. Go to school

once a week.

Educate your mind.

It'll be good

for you and Mico.

Or is it, uh,

that all you want is

for things to be easy?

I don't know.

You wanna

know something?

What?

I never been

at the beach before.

For reals?

Yeah, for real.

You like it?

Yeah.

I like it.

Oh, man, I'm gettin' dizzy.

This pruno goes right to your head.

Hey, man, come on, drink up.

It's good for you.

Great party, man.

This is a great party.

Hey, wait 'til

the broad gets here.

Oh, yeah, who's the broad?

You are, baby.

Don't even think about it.

Your father didn't think

much of our business offer,

or you.

Relax, you might enjoy it.

You've never been

with a woman before.

I told you you'd like it, huh?

It's okay. It's o...

Wait. No.

Wait. Wait!

No. No! Stop it!

No! Stop it!

No!

- We always have beans every single night!

- No, we don't.

- We're gonna put some salsa in it so it'll taste better.

- Okay, grandma.

Why does he listen to you?

He never listens to me.

Neto! Neto, come and eat, please.

Neto, come and eat.

The food's getting cold, hurry.

- What are you doing?

- I'm making a burrito.

Come on, Neto.

Look at the mess!

That's why you're here,

to clean it up.

Neto?

You're dropping it all

in the plate.

I'll scoop it back up.

Neto.

Neto? Mama!

Mama! Mama!

Mama! Mama!

Call an ambulance!

Get Mico outta here!

Come on, Neto, wake up!

Neto!

Damn you! What did you do,

you stupid sh*t!

- Wake up!

- Neto!

You better wake up,

goddam you!

Wake up! Wake up!

Wake up!

Damn you! Wake up!

- Let me see!

- No, Mico, no!

Let me just see. He's my uncle.

No!

It started happenin' around 7.00 tonight

as soon as the new stuff hit town.

How many O.D. S?

30, 40, maybe more.

That's just the first ones

we know about.

It's all over town, ese.

Scagnelli let the sh*t

run through uncut.

100 percent pure.

Every tecato's dream come true.

- Don't make no sense, carnal.

- It makes a lot of sense.

He must have known

what would happen.

He's killing off

his own customers.

How many Italians O.D. 'd?

Italians? There ain't

no f***in'Italians in East L.A.

What are you doing?

Those are Paulito's things.

- Where is he?

- I don't know.

- What kind of sh*t is he on?

- I don't know.

Where is he?

He don't listen to me,

just like you.

- Where is he?

- Get your hands off me.

- Listen to me, where is he?

- Don't touch me.

- I said, where is he?

- Let me go!

Where is he?

Where is he?

Talk to me, where is he?

What are you guys doing?

Let go!

What kind of sh*t are you on?

What you talkin' about?

I'm clean, man.

Paulito told me you've

been coming here everyday.

About the other night, I, uh...

Forget it.

Whatever I did to you

or to mama...

to make you hate me,

I'm sorry.

Your mother...

was a beautiful woman.

She made me feel proud.

She was 19 years old.

Raped...

by sailors.

After it happened...

we never talked about it.

Then we got married...

and we tried to forget.

When you were born...

I tried to love you.

But every time

I looked at you...

I wondered who

your real father was.

I wondered which sailor's

blood you carried inside you.

Stop.

Hey, what're they,

football uniforms?

Certainly not, they're space suits.

Hey, Les, don't I look like

a piece of bubble-gum?

Step on it again, homes.

J.D. Wants a good count.

It's gotta be right.

Our names goin' out behind this.

Makes me nervous

lookin' at all this sh*t...

and not bein' able to chip

a little taste, brother.

Business, Tin Man, then we'll think

about takin' a little off the top.

Now we're talkin', brother.

Watch out, homes.

Look, watch this.

Orale, homes!

- Relax, homes.

- He's gonna get fired.

I'm just watchin' the tube.

What happened to

Abbott and Costello?

- They're on their way to Mars.

- They ain't the only ones.

Drop the gun! Now!

Back up against the wall!

Who the f*** are you?

Down on your knees,

put your hands behind your back.

Now!

Bow your heads! Do it!

You know who we are!

- You know who we are?

- Yeah, I know who you are.

Now breathe! Deep!

Breathe!

Breathe... real deep.

The word is, it was

the Black Guerrilla Family.

Scagnelli had his people check

out how things work in here.

Farmed it out to the B.G.F.

What the hell are the mayates

doing with the Italians?

Scagnelli hooked up with

the Compton dope exchange.

B.G.F. Runs muscle for Compton.

I hear our lawyers are getting

some of our people dates, huh?

Yeah, Puppet and Little Puppet

gonna see daylight real soon.

Little Puppet in about 3 weeks,

Puppet in about 7.

Little Puppet wants to get married

on the day he gets out, eh?

He wants me to be best man.

Qu vato.

Santana, watch your back.

If we show weakness now, homes,

everybody's gonna see it.

Not just the mayates and wops,

but the Nuestra Familia as well.

They're just waiting

to make their f***ing move.

There's a way

we can do it clean.

Do what Scagnelli did.

Farm the sh*t out.

To who?

Aryan Brotherhood.

They hate the mayates.

Mayates hate them.

Ain't no big f***in' thing.

Let the A.B. Give

the blacks the message.

That way we don't

have to risk anything.

We're spending all of our time

dealing with the Italians...

and now with the Black

Guerrilla Family, ese,

instead of getting our people

out and keeping them out.

You know what?

If we don't fight

for this sh*t now,

we're gonna lose

it all now, homes.

I also want to take a minute to thank

the owner of the club, Maynard.

Let's have a good time. Let's party!

- Get down!

- Back, motherf***er.

We don't need no trouble.

Just take the money...

Everybody, shut up! Get down!

- What is your name?

- Arthur J.

Uh-huh.

Now it's Mrs J.

For weeks I wanted

to tell you how I felt.

But when I was finally with you,

I couldn't find the courage.

This is how

I always imagined it.

The only thing,

I wish my brother was here.

When he comes out,

let's have a party for him.

I want to have a party, a big party.

Orale.

Lourdes, this dude

and my brother, man,

are the only reasons I made it.

You know, without them...

I can't believe

we're out here, ese.

We made it, qu, no?

Yeah, we made it.

Let's get a drink, qu, no?

Yeah.

Day in, day out.

Same f***ing thing.

You know what it was

in there, homes?

Dead time,

wasting my f***ing life away, ese.

And for what? So I could

look in the f***ing mirror...

and say, "You're bad, ese.

You're bad. "

Sh*t, homes,

the best tattoos in East L.A.

Now I can't draw sh*t, ese.

F*** it, homes.

It's okay. I'm lucky, huh?

- I can still do somethin'.

- Go sit him down.

Hey, you know, I'm here, ese.

Orale.

You know what? I don't need to be bad any more.

What you laughing at, punk?

Rate this script:5.0 / 1 vote

Floyd Mutrux

Floyd Mutrux (born June 21, 1941) is an American stage and film director, writer, producer, and screenwriter. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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