Hollywood Homicide

Synopsis: When not solving murders in Tinseltown, Detective Joe Gavilan and his rookie partner Kasey Calden both moonlight in other fields: Gavilan sells real estate (poorly), and Calden aspires to become an actor (Brando, namely). Assigned to the vicious in-club slaying of a promising young rap act, the two detective delve into the recording industry where they hope to find answers - ideally ones that also come with property buyers or auditions.
Genre: Action, Comedy, Crime
Director(s): Ron Shelton
Production: Columbia Pictures
  1 win.
 
IMDB:
5.3
Metacritic:
47
Rotten Tomatoes:
30%
PG-13
Year:
2003
116 min
$30,013,346
Website
428 Views


Shooters, come forward

to the 20-yard line.

Thanks, Joe.

Sh*t.

Yo, K-R0, where you going?

K-R0, what's up'?

Hey, baby!

Somebody just shot my club up.

That's what I say, shot my club up!

Why do you need to know my name?

Just get the police here.

What do you mean, you ain't coming?

I give you first shot

at making me an offer

on this beautiful

four-bedroom Mt. Olympus,

and you leave me

sitting here for two hours,

and now you tell me you ain't...

Hello'?

Sh*t.

Gavilan.

Yeah, give me 10 minutes.

Be right there.

Yeah, it's Calden.

Sh*t.

I'll be there in seven minutes.

Hey, Joe.

How you doing?

Okay.

How are you?

Find anybody to buy that house yet?

No.

Showed it a couple of times last week.

There's some interest.

I hear we got a messy one here.

Yeah.

Joe, K.C...

Hey, Leon.

Hey, Leon.

I'm making you two primaries

on this disaster.

Since you've made no progress

in the Klepto murder,

I figure you're due.

Thanks for the confidence.

Yeah, no problem.

What do we got, Leon?

One on the floor, three backstage.

Rap group, calls itself H2OKlick.

Don't ask me why.

Joint was full?

Yeah.

Nobody saw anything.

Of course not.

These things on?

They were.

They're off now.

Listen, get them out of here.

Now. Come on.

Let's go, let's go.

Well, what do you think?

Write this down.

Cheeseburger, well done.

Raw onion, pickle, ketchup.

Nothing else.

Got it.

Officer?

Time to get rolling on some chow.

This is what the big dog wants,

and I want

tomato and cucumber on whole wheat

with only mustard and bean sprouts.

Hey, Lou?

Nobody goes in here, okay?

Gotcha.

Looks like one shooter

came from down there.

The other came from down there.

This poor son of a b*tch

got it from both sides.

Yeah.

So, how long you had this place?

Man, I only had this place two years.

This is messed up.

- Where you living?

- At the Bel Age.

Bel Age.

Yeah, right up the road, but it's just

temporary quarters.

Where were you when

the shootings occurred?

In my office.

Right there.

These guys were about to break out.

Yeah, the boys was blowing up, man.

Sartain Records.

Antoine Sartain, that's the big man.

These guys have any trouble?

Some sort of turf war going on?

Man, I don't know nothing

about no East Coast, West Coast,

hip-hop, gang-bangin' bullshit.

I'm just a poor country

boy trying to get by.

Getting by pretty well, I'd say.

I do okay.

Hello'?

Hold on.

Hello.

Hello!

Hold on just a second, let me...

Hey, Stan?

Stan, that four-bedroom

Mt. Olympus fell through.

Can you make me an offer?

Eddie, you got those shoe prints, right?

Two sets of prints.

You've got matching pattern,

different sizes.

That's a 9, that's an 11.

Hey, you.

Come here.

I see mayonnaise.

Did anybody in this room

hear me say the word "mayonnaise?

Read your notes.

What does it say?

Cheeseburger, well done,

raw onion, ketchup, pickle.

You call that well done?

In addition to the mayonnaise,

I see lettuce...

Lettuce that somebody

tried to scrape off here.

This is a disaster.

What the hell do they

teach you at the Academy?

You want to be a detective

when you grow up?

Yes, sir.

Don't call me "sir."

I work for a living.

Dump this for me, please.

I expect better.

Joe, the kid's got something.

Gavilan.

No, 675 won't fly.

If you get back to me,

you've got to have seven and change.

Diamond earring.

Could be something, could be nothing.

Good work, kid.

Did you get the puddle of piss

and the shoe prints in

the electrical closet?

Yeah, I got it, Joe.

I'm going to go hammer on

the owner a little more.

How come you got no

video surveillance,

big-ass place like this?

What kind of security you got?

I ain't never had no problems in my place.

Well, you got a problem now.

Two guys sneak in here with guns.

Who does your security, anyway?

A bunch of off-duty L.A.P.D. cops.

Well, that's your first mistake.

Man, why you ragging on me?

All I'm trying to do is just business.

Julius, you're making me curious.

How come you live in a hotel?

I just sold my crib.

The new one fell through,

so I'm sort of like looking right now.

You're sort of like

looking for a new house?

That's what I said.

Julius, look, in my other career,

I'm a real estate broker.

Real estate broker?

You got two jobs?

We work a lot of overtime.

We get a lot of time off.

A lot of guys have three jobs.

So what you saying, cop?

What I'm saying to you

is I got a beautiful

up on Mt. Olympus.

New roof, partial view.

Owner's desperate.

Man, I don't want no

crap on no Mt. Olympics.

Well, what you looking for?

I'm looking for a big house,

something with class.

How much you willing to pay

for something with class?

Not a penny more than six.

Six?

That's what I said.

Six.

Million'?

I was not soliciting.

I was doing research.

Research is not soliciting.

I've never had to pay for sex.

I have four BAFTA nominations.

Hey.

Evening, Gloria.

Do you know who I am?

Here's our dead guys.

Thanks.

Puddle of piss makes me

think we got a witness.

Sit down there and shut up!

I can't work here.

This place is a zoo.

Let's get out of here

before Boardner's closes.

The doctor's in.

Help is on its way.

Thanks, Hank.

Something wrong, Joe?

What do you mean, something wrong?

You seem down.

Down?

Me?

Lately.

We've been partners for what, four months?

Now you want to be my shrink?

Sometimes it helps to talk.

That's all I'm saying.

All right.

Let me paint you a picture.

Portrait of Joe Gavilan.

Seven, eight years ago,

I sold off the results

of my entrepreneurial

efforts up to that point.

Three tanning salons

and two original silk-tip nail parlors

in the Antelope Valley,

and I started attending

weekend real estate seminars

at the Airport Hyatt.

You know, "How to Make

$1 Million in Real Estate

with Very Little Money Down."

Sounds good.

Started out with a condo in Sherman Oaks.

Slapped some paint on the walls.

Refaced the kitchen cabinets.

Traded up to a smoke-damaged ranch

in Tarzana, then a Spanish on Outpost

and a fake Mediterranean in Los Feliz.

Pretty soon, I had everything

I've got tied up in this...

this monstrosity... on Mt. Olympus,

at the corner of Hercules and,

I sh*t you not, Achilles.

So what's the problem?

The problem is if I don't

score a big commission

or get rid of this...

piece of sh*t on Mt. Olympics...

Well, the word Titanic comes to mind.

Joe, I know a girl who works

for some rich producer.

Says that he might be selling his place.

Maybe you can get the listing.

Got a name?

Well, her name's, like, Mimi or Moma

or something like that.

I don't remember.

Not the girl, hot rocks.

The producer.

I don't know the producer.

Way before my time. I...

Hey, Joe, you ready for something?

Shoot.

I don't think I want to be a cop anymore.

Come on, you need some fresh air.

Put this on my tab, Hank.

What tab?

Hey, I got it.

I got it.

It's okay.

Here.

Well, if you don't want to be a cop,

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Robert Souza

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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