Celda 211

Year:
2009
366 Views


CELL 211

Valuable objects

are checked in here.

It avoids stealing

among inmates.

They must also turn in cell phones,

belts, blades, razors...

Anything the guard considers

dangerous is removed.

- Shoelaces too?

- Yeah.

You wouldn't believe

what they do with shoelaces.

Scary?

Don't worry,

you'll get used to it fast.

You'd better. These bastards

end up getting out,

but you have to spend

your whole f***ing life here.

You can see it's in f***ing shambles.

All they do is patch it up.

We have to wait until

they finish the new center.

The yard is obligatory

from 9 AM until lunchtime.

They have a blast out there.

Playing soccer,

dealing stuff...

They've got it made.

In any case,

these are the calmer ones.

We keep the big shots apart.

We call this patio the strip.

The only air a DSS ever breathes.

"Designated for Special

Surveillance."

Murderers, jail breakers,

psychopaths...

The best of every home.

We used to mix them with

the others in the cell block,

but they'd go berserk over nothing.

They run the show in here.

Many have AIDS and years left to

serve, so they don't give a f***.

Nothing will happen to them

if they cut you, so why hold back?

It gives them status

with the other inmates.

Julian, this is Juan, the new guy.

He starts tomorrow.

Nice to meet you.

Why is he here?

He was bored

so I'm showing him around.

- Don't scare him too much.

- No.

- Bye.

- They're artists.

What is it?

Worse than a musket.

It'll blow a hole right through you.

A piece of pipe

and a spring to fire it.

- Can they get powder?

- They can get anything.

If you've got the dough,

you can have sushi delivered.

How do they get it in?

Family members

during personal visits,

other stuff we get for them...

To find out what's going on,

get in good with one of these boys.

That's how we came across

the musket.

A Colombian named Apache

gave it to us. You'll meet him.

We let him do his thing

and he tells us what's up.

Listen, Juan.

Never trust any of them.

Never forget where you are,

and look them in the eye.

Never let them see you're scared.

In the eye, but watch their hands.

They're like magicians.

Nothing here, nothing there...

and presto.

A nice little spoon.

- Holy sh*t!

- Damn!

F***!

It broke through the net.

- You all right down there?

- We're fine!

Just a close shave!

Kid, are you okay?

- What's wrong?

- Sh*t, you're bleeding.

Let's take him to the infirmary.

No, let's take him to cell 211.

It's empty.

Why didn't we take him

straight to the infirmary?

I don't know.

Who could have imagined

what was going to happen?

Hey, Malamadre!

Stroll's over!

Everything okay down there?

We're fine!

Just a close shave!

German, get the doctor.

Juan, stay calm.

Look at me. Juan.

Look at me, kid.

Come on.

Look at me, Juan.

Look at me.

Juan...

Juan, look at me.

Don't close your eyes.

Don't close your eyes!

They're taking the block!

We have to go!

Juan!

They'll kill us, come on!

We can't leave him!

Come on, let's go!

Please!

- Is the block sealed?

- Completely.

Even the security area

is locked down.

Did everyone get out?

Except Julian,

he was watching the strip.

Okay, we screwed up.

We have to locate Malamadre.

I'll bet anything he's behind this.

And he has a hostage.

He has 2.

Where did you come from?

Where did you come from?

F***ing shitty prison guards!

I'll slit your throats and rip off

your balls, you bastards!

Pincho!

Pincho!

Pincho, where's Malamadre?

Downstairs in the shop

with Tachuela and Apache.

Watch cell 211 for me.

Make sure nobody goes in or out.

Nobody!

His name is Juan Oliver.

He's 30 years old, married...

He starts work on the first.

- That's tomorrow. What's he doing here?

- He wanted to see how things work.

This will give him an idea.

How could he get left inside?

That's what I'd like to know.

Come on,

let's go.

They're waiting for you.

Who?

F*** you!

Get outside!

Out!

Go on!

Get out there!

F***ing move it!

He's with Pincho and Releches.

Trouble.

Those 2 do anything

Malamadre says.

Come on, damn it!

And the cameras in the basement?

They've smashed them all.

We have to go in.

We can't. We have to wait

for the SWAT team.

And get them killed,

like Medina 2 years ago?

We have weapons

for emergencies.

They're only for self- defense.

Or that of a co- worker.

I'm sorry,

but it's either them

- or us.

- What if they take a gun off us?

Armando's right.

We have to wait.

Malamadre, here's the guy

I told you about.

Where did you come from?

From 211.

That cell was empty.

Not anymore.

Why are you bleeding?

I got roughed up.

So, the guards beat you up

your first day.

You must have pissed them off.

Well...

I do my best.

Hear that,

Tachuela?

- He did his best.

- They wasted no time.

Besides ball- busting,

what are you in for?

First degree homicide.

- How much they give you?

- 19 years.

- You're probably innocent.

- No.

I killed him and I'd do it again.

I don't buy it.

Why not?

Because you don't look like a

killer. You wouldn't hurt a fly.

So you're the prison shrink.

He's pushing his luck.

Though I wouldn't mind spending all day

in a white robe handing out valium.

One for you, one for me!

Utrilla probably had

a lot of fun with him!

Put it out and strip down.

What?

Take off your clothes.

What for?

Mostly because I f***ing said so.

Lose the shirt!

Don't be shy!

Go on!

Cutie pie!

Gorgeous!

He's got nothing on!

Nothing?

Look at that thing!

You're gonna love it here!

Hey, Bubba!

You've got competition!

Turn around, let them see you.

Somebody's gonna get quite

a mouthful!

How many have you strangled,

Superman?

Okay, that's enough.

You've all had a little fun.

Back to your business.

Everybody out.

You'd better watch out. You could win

a beauty contest in here with that.

Who would ever undress

in front of all these fags?

Apache.

Listen up.

Have your men get rid of

the surveillance cameras.

- They've seen enough.

- Right.

- Where is my clean underwear?

- Did you check the second drawer?

I only see the ones

you gave me.

So?

I can't wear these to work.

Why not?

You said you loved them.

I do, but they're personal.

So the gentleman wants to dress fancy

for his first day of work at the prison.

Don't make fun of me.

I just think it's funny you're

worried about your underwear.

I want to make a good impression.

Then don't wear anything.

You should leave a camera.

So they can see you later on,

when you want to negotiate.

Cover it up. That way you control

what they see and what they don't.

Not bad.

You just earned yourself

some underwear.

Get this man

a clean pair of shorts. He can't go

around with his balls hanging out.

Give him yours, jerk- off.

Move!

I'd leave that one.

Which one...

Calzones?

That one.

It's Juan and he's with Malamadre.

What's he doing?

- Why's he covering the camera?

- Clever bastard!

What is it?

He's tricking them.

They think he's an inmate.

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Jorge Guerricaechevarría

Jorge Guerricaechevarría (born November 30, 1964 in Avilés, Asturias), also known as Guerrica, is a Spanish screenwriter. He won a Goya Award for the script of Cell 211, adapted from the novel of the same name by Francisco Pérez Gandul. He was also nominated for The Day of the Beast, La comunidad, and The Oxford Murders. In 2008, at the Basque film festival Zinemastea, he received an honorary award recognizing his career as a screenwriter. more…

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