Kills on Wheels

Synopsis: This is a meaningful action-comedy of a wheelchair-bound assassin gang. Driven by despair and fear of becoming useless, a 20 year-old boy, his friend, and an ex-fireman offer their services to the mafia. But things are not what they seem. The boundaries between reality and fiction blur and the story becomes a whirling kaleidoscope showing us gangsters and gunfights, but also the challenge of life in a wheelchair and the pain caused by a father's rejection.
Genre: Action, Comedy, Drama
Director(s): Attila Till
  7 wins & 5 nominations.
 
IMDB:
7.2
Metacritic:
65
Year:
2016
103 min
12 Views


1

- Don't even have to look.

- Sh*t.

Playing it safe.

- How much, 15?

- Hit me again. Nothing.

I lost.

- 20.

- That's enough.

- Too much.

- I'm fed up.

- I'm out.

- Me too.

Cut that sh*t out!

You'll make us lose privileges!

Don't do this!

Motherf***er!

Your shoe's gone, pal.

- Idiots.

- Stop messing around!

Hey. what're you doing?!

C'mon, c'mon!

Thinks he's a badass?

- D*ckhead.

- Stupid cripple.

Take care.

Presents

Supported by

Hungarian National Film Fund

KILLS ON WHEELS:

Can you get up?

I need to lie down

a couple of hours.

What's that?

A polar bear.

Barba, you thief.

I stole it.

Get me a pill, please.

Your spine?

Yeah. I need the white one.

- Thanks.

- Oh, f***.

I've told you a thousand times.

Outside. Sh*t.

- Now you're choking too.

- It's fine, it's nice.

It's not f***ing nice.

I learned to breathe quietly.

Good job.

Wow!

Awesome!

- Wait!

- It smells sweet.

Here.

- Can you get high off this?

- Don't hit me!

Cool!

Whoa!

- Careful, it jerks around.

- Super.

Wait...

Got a light?

He does.

No smoking here, by the way.

I'm allowed.

Goddamn.

I've pulled lots of bodies

from burning buildings.

Tiny ones too, this big.

Put it back where you found it.

I'll tell the director

you hit me, d*ckhead!

Can I have my lighter?

The director?

We're drinking buddies.

Damned moths!

You can't pull a heavier

guy out of his chair!

Are you Rupaszov,

who came to rehab out of prison?

- Who told you this?

- Why don't you use a bigger bag?

It wouldn't fill up so quickly.

I hate when it pokes

through my pants.

- Who's looking?

- Me.

- Wait, I'll help.

- I don't need help.

- You're out of shape. Exercise.

- Why? It doesn't help.

Sure, if you don't use

your muscles, they die.

- You're new in your chair, right?

- 3 years.

But I'll be out in 3 more.

I'm not rotting in here.

- That's stupid.

- Stupid?

- What's stupid?

- You'll let it go soon, don't worry.

Yeah.

You pathetic cripples

always tell me that sh*t.

You're Jesus freaks, right?

You're always saying

we have to accept it,

singing Praise God!

There's no fate!

- And no leg muscles either.

- Chop them off, then!

I'll get robot legs,

a robot dick, whatever!

I could've put out a whole fire while

I was f***ing around with you guys!

C'mon, I'll buy you a beer!

Hey, fellas, you open yet?

- We're open.

- Can we go in?

We're not getting in.

- They're gonna kick him out.

- Could my crippled pals and I

get in sooner so

we can get a seat?

- Come on! Everything's all set!

- No problem.

- Can you get us in then? Thanks.

- Sure.

Look at that.

Kind souls everywhere.

Sit here, forget about

those shitty chairs for once!

Thanks, boss.

Get those chairs out here.

You sit here too!

C'mere, sex machine!

Drop your bag.

We're over here, boss.

Thanks.

- Sorry.

- Sure, hit me.

What're you doing?

- We gotta cut it.

- Huh?

- He's cutting off the straw.

- Why?

- He'll spill it if he doesn't.

- Jesus Christ!

This is how you live?

You're hardcore.

Cheers!

- We can't get a break.

- How come?

Are you a dealer?

Where'd you get your money?

Dealer? Do I look like one?

Like I even know what

a dealer looks like.

I can offer you odd jobs

- so you can earn cash.

- Like what?

Well...

I don't have a license.

- He does.

- Got a car, too? I need a driver.

My parents got it for me,

but no money for gas.

Yeah.

- When did you fill it up last?

- 3 months ago?

Oh, Lord!

When did you last touch tits?

What's up? Drunk already?

- His back hurts.

- Mine hurts, too.

- But his hurts bad.

- Sure, 'cause you're chickenshit.

A reject. Mine hurts, too!

Just pretend you're

the best reject on earth,

and you'll loosen up.

The pain will go away...

for a few seconds.

We're all set here. Champagne?

Want this gay drink?

C'mon in, Zoli.

I talked to Professor Herman.

We're running out of time.

My ex-husband will help.

He lives in Stuttgart,

so it'll be fine.

Will he pay all the costs?

Germany's very expensive.

The hotel, the extras.

We talked and he's very happy

to finally help his son.

Really?

Then I'll write to the Germans

to set a surgery date.

It'll take a few weeks

to even find a date.

- How are you, Zoli?

- Fine.

Come here.

They said his spine

needs to be supported.

Mainly here.

It's not an easy procedure.

Why? ls he so much worse?

This operation will save his life.

We'll discuss details in private.

There won't be an operation.

I'm not doing it.

What?

I won't do it.

After 17 years, why now?

I don't want to see him.

Pay for the surgery:

that's all I asked of him.

I wouldn't even recognize him.

What does he look like?

I've only seen an old picture.

We don't even look similar.

You look like your grandpa.

- He was your height.

- 147 cm?

Why'd you have to drag him

into all this?

- Wait.

- Did you bring it?

- Yeah.

- Wait.

I hope it'll be fine.

Will you do a good job?

- Like you should?

- Like we agreed.

- But don't give me small bills.

- OK.

- You'll get everything. Coke too.

- I want 500 Euro notes.

- Let's go.

- See ya.

Why the sausage? Fries are enough.

It's for Rupaszov.

And 2 waters, please.

No, he told us to stay here.

He'll go crazy out there.

He'll call and say where to pick him up.

We stay put till then.

We'll just bring him

the food and water.

- What kind of water?

- A still and a sparkling.

Let's wait a bit more.

What's the fuss, Barba?

I'm bored to death.

- How much?

- 8 Euros.

Jeez!

Give me a light too.

- Who the f*** is this?

- Probably some homeless dude.

That can't be him in this wreck.

- Go tell 'em to get lost.

- Get the f*** out of here.

Drive.

What's up, boys? Out exploring?

You're real f***in' lost.

Get in the car, please.

They sent me. You're meeting me.

What?

He says they sent him!

Stop here.

- Who's this dick?

- I dunno.

Jesus Christ!

Who sent you?

You got business with me?

Rados says the deal's off.

He's sorry your boss, Tni,

can't find his place after prison, but...

he thinks it's not his job

to support a man who's such an...

unpleasant...

No, he used another word.

Such a petty cocksucker...

What the f*** you sayin'?

Leave the country, it's in style now.

Leave the country...

Where's Rados?

I don't got time for this, see?

Too chicken to come himself,

so he sent your crippled ass?

Where's the money?

Where's Rados?

I'm Rados now.

Yeah, same a**hole.

Seriously, are you kidding me?

What don't you get? It's not hard.

- You got a pea brain, huh?

- Don't you talk to me like that.

Rados told me to give you

the message, that's it.

Really?

Okay.

Here's my answer then.

Well? Lost your tongue?

I'm paralysed from the waist down.

I can't feel a thing.

OK, get the f*** out now!

- Hurry back, okay?

- I'll be right there.

Thanks, Doctor.

Still having anger issues?

It's only frustration,

but I can deal with it.

It doesn't look like it.

Sorry.

You smell nice.

Thanks.

Here's your phone.

Put it away.

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Attila Till

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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