Ken Park

Synopsis: Ken Park focuses on several teenagers and their tormented home lives. Shawn seems to be the most conventional. Tate is brimming with psychotic rage; Claude is habitually harassed by his brutish father and coddled, rather uncomfortably, by his enormously pregnant mother. Peaches looks after her devoutly religious father, but yearns for freedom. They're all rather tight, or so they claim. But they spend precious little time together and none of them seems to know much about one another's family lives. This bizarre dichotomy underscores their alienation # the result of suburban ennui, a teenager's inherent sense of melodrama, and the disturbing nature of their home environments.
Genre: Drama
Production: Cinea
  2 nominations.
 
IMDB:
5.9
Rotten Tomatoes:
43%
NOT RATED
Year:
2002
93 min
2,056 Views


I used to be friends

with this guy.

His name was Ken Park.

His name spelled backwards was

Krap Nek, and I used to tease him.

One day after school

I heard he blew his brains out.

I don't think I had anything to do

with it, but l still feel guilty.

Krap Nek.

This is Krap Nek

when he was age 11.

His mother told me he was buried

in his lucky motorcycle jacket.

She said his toothbrush

is missing.

She told me that

she could feel his spirit.

From left to right:

There's Claude, Peaches,

Mike, Tate,

and that's me on the end.

Shawn's my name.

We all live in a little town

in California called Visalia.

It's pretty boring but sometimes

when we get together we have fun.

Shawn is one of my best friends.

He's young,

but he's kind of smart.

Once we were driving and he threw

a tennis ball at an old lady.

He made us stop the car.

He got out and apologized.

-Do you love me?

-No, I hate you.

-Say it, you little b*tch!

-Get off me!

-Say I'm the master!

-Get off me!

Say I'm the master!

-"Shawn, master of the universe."

-F*** you, motherf***er!

-Get off! You're not, you f*ggot!

-Say you love me.

-Say I'm the master!

-I hate you, you freaking f*ggot!

-You're a loser!

-You just can't f***ing say it.

-Say you love me.

-Get off!

Say you love me, b*tch.

I hate you!

Say I'm the master,

say you love me!

I love you.

Don't cry.

Oh, God!

You love me and I love you.

Go to school.

-What's up with you guys?

-I hate him.

-Give me a cigarette.

-I only have one left.

Your brother told me

to tell you to f*** yourself.

Good.

Hey, Zoe.

Where's daddy?

Work.

Where's mommy?

Hey, Shawn.

Hey.

Can I eat you out?

Not now, I'm folding.

Lend a hand.

When I was little,

Claude saved me from drowning.

We used to play doctor.

He tries to act tough, but deep

down inside he's a soft teddy bear.

Come on.

One more. I want to see

the veins pop out of your head!

You can do it.

Come on.

-Spot me, Claude.

-I got it.

Hand me the towel.

You want a go now?

No, I don't feel like lifting.

-Come on, I'll spot you.

-No, thanks. I don't feel like it.

-You could do that once.

-That's all right, do some more.

Come on, it's all set up.

Let's go for it.

No meat on those bones,

look at that.

It's not me.

-Come on, you can do it.

-No, I don't want to.

-I'll take some off it for you.

-Go ahead, do some more.

Well, you know why

your mother married me?

Why?

Because I got muscles.

Come and feel it.

Come on.

Yeah, yeah.

The first time she met me,

she just stared at them.

You got a girlfriend?

Not a full time. Not a girlfriend.

I see some girls, though.

Not a girlfriend.

You got a boyfriend?

What the f*** is that?

-What the f***'s that!

-Yeah, what the f*** is that?

-Don't say f***, I'm your father.

-F***.

You f***ing those girls?

-Yeah, some of them.

-Yeah?

Let me ask you something.

You consider yourself a winner?

-I don't know.

-You don't know?

You know, Claude, sometimes

I look at you and I feel ashamed.

Seems like you can't do

nothing right.

You can't even wear your pants

right. Pull your pants up!

You can't even walk in those things.

What do you wear them like that for?

I'm not a weightlifter,

I skate.

You're just going to be a punk,

aren't you?

What's it to you?

I'm your father.

Pull your pants up

and wear them right.

I look at you like that,

and I feel sick.

My stomach actually feels sick.

I get up in the morning, I see you,

and I get off to a bad day.

Because I'm ashamed.

Your mother thinks

you're a fairy.

Peaches has the nicest

peach smell about her.

She's a real woman.

Her mom died

when she was a little girl.

She looks just like her.

Peaches used to take ballet and all

the boys watched through the window.

Sometimes she would let us

watch her get undressed.

Popi?

Popi?

Hi, baby.

I brought you some water.

I thought you might be thirsty.

That boy Curtis called.

He did?

What did he say?

He said he was on his way.

He said is Peaches home

and I said she was

outside.

Okay.

That boy Curtis is the one

with the long hair, huh?

Yes, from bible study.

In the seventh grade,

Tate used to spit on girls

and make his friends laugh.

People would walk by him and say

Tate is insane. He was smart though.

It was just that he thought

differently than everyone else.

Billy...

Skinny Billy.

Now you have aname.

Gary...

Gary Coleman,

Different Strokes.

Mrs. Drummond.

Mrs. Drummond and... Legs!

Mrs. Drummond and her son Arnold.

Legs, please.

I'm trying to work!

Shut up!

I will f***ing rip it off,

I swear to God!

I am f***ing working.

Look at me! I will rip your

f***ing leg off, I swear to you.

Pay attention to me,

pay attention to me!

Jesus Christ,

don't you ever f***ing knock?

I cut you some fruit.

I thought you might be hungry.

No, I'm not hungry.

I'm working.

When you come in without knocking

you're acting like a f***ing b*tch.

-Please, Tate, take the fruit.

-I don't want it, I want you out!

Tate, look, here's some kiwi.

How about this?

-Get the f*** out of my room!

-I'm going, please, Tate.

Jesus f***ing

-Christ, Grandma, get out!

-I'm going, Tate.

Bye, we'll see you then.

Have a nice day. Bye, see you.

F***ing b*tch!

Christ!

You wanna f***ing bark now?

You gonna f***ing bark for me now?

Aren't you, motherf***er!

Ticklish?

Little bit?

-Feels good.

-Yeah?

How about that?

Yeah.

Now that feels good.

Take my pants off.

It's really wet.

Take my panties off.

Slow, Shawn.

Yeah, that's it.

Just like that.

That's it, nice and slow.

Yeah, just right there.

Go just a little faster.

Yeah,

that's it, right there.

Move with my hips, come on.

There you go.

Oh, sh*t.

Sh*t.

That's a good boy, Shawn.

That's a good boy.

Oh my God.

Keep licking.

-ls this the best spot?

-What are you doing?

Put your head back down!

Shawn, Shawn...

Come here.

It's okay.

Be careful. Don't cut me.

-How close do you want me to get?

-Get all the way down.

But be careful. No hurting.

Damn, Claude!

Sorry, sorry.

-You're getting to close to my skin.

-Sorry, sorry.

-Okay, ready for the big one?

-Yeah.

Here it comes.

Look how big this is!

Look at how big it is!

Gross, get it off me!

-Look how big it is. Look at it.

-I see it.

-Look at it.

-I'm looking at it.

Big toe.

You cut my toes all up.

What do you want me to cut them

back and paint them red?

Go pick up the nails.

-You missed one right there.

-Where?

Right there.

-Where?

-Over there,

by the leg of the table we eat on.

Help me.

All right, careful.

-My big, strong boy.

-Come on.

Hey, watch the cigarette.

Watch it.

-Want abeer?

-No, thanks.

F***!

Holy sh*t! I don't believe

you broke my f***ing board!

-You broke my f***ing board!

-Shut the f*** up, stop screaming.

It's a f***ing bullshit toy, not

a sport. You're wasting your time.

Why'd you have to break

my f***ing board?

-I just told you, I don't want...

-F*** you!

F*** you!

I don't want to see that f***ing

Rate this script:2.0 / 1 vote

Harmony Korine

Harmony Korine is an American film director and screenwriter. He is best known for writing Kids and for writing and directing Spring Breakers, Gummo, Julien Donkey-Boy and Mister Lonely. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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