Straight Outta Compton

FADE UP:
ON;

2 EXT. BROWN HOUSE - COMPTON - NIGHT 2

A bucket pulls up in front of a shitty-looking BROWN HOUSE

with ugly bars on the windows and doors. A rusted swing-set

leans sideways on the dirt/grass they call a front lawn.

SUPERIMPOSE:
COMPTON, CA 1986

Inside the car is ERIC WRIGHT, 21, but you know him as -

SUPERIMPOSE:
ERIC WRIGHT AKA EAZY-E

A man who is completely in his element -- comfortable and

poised, ready for anything.

He hops out of the car, moves quickly to the TRUNK -- pops it

open and reaches inside. With an electric screwdriver, Eazy

unscrews a CERWIN-VEGA sub-woofer. Grabs a bulging BROWN BAG

out of the speaker... and a 9mm -- SLAMS the trunk.

ON THE ROOF, a LOOKOUT clocks Eazy as he walks up to the

front door of the decrepit house...

Eazy KNOCKS BY CODE. A dude, TONE (20s), opens a slat in the

door. Gauges Eazy, EYES SKEPTICAL.

TONE:

Who is it?

EAZY:

Eric! Man, we been through this

sh*t a thousand times.

Multiple DEADBOLTS UNLOCK and an irritated Eazy enters -

EAZY (CONT’D)

What’s the use to having this dumb

ass knock if I gotta tell you my

name anyway?

2.

3 INT. BROWN HOUSE - MINUTES LATER 3

It’s not what you’d call “cozy.” The carpet is torn up,

stained, cigarette-burnt. Walls covered in TAGS. A PITBULL

stares menacingly from the kitchen.

In addition to Eazy and Tone, there are THREE other people

spread around the room: one GIRL lounges on a vinyl couch,

eyes glazed; another girl, TASHA, loudly SCRAPES soul food

onto the pitbull’s plate; and a JITTERY DUDE steady keeps an

EYE out the WINDOW, tense, occasionally clocking --

EAZY spreads the CONTENTS of the BROWN BAG before them on a

long TABLE:
three FREEZER BAGS each containing 10 ounces. He

looks up, ALL BUSINESS.

EAZY:

Now where the money at?

TONE:

Man, you heard what happen? My best

runner got cracked. They sent his

young ass to Y.A. --

EAZY:

The f*** that got to do with me?

Tone turns to Tasha in the kitchen, nods.

TONE:

Tasha, get this dude a 40.

TASHA opens the fridge, grabs a 40oz. -

EAZY:

Do I look thirsty to you?

(beat)

Where my ends at?

-- hands it to Tone who CRACKS it open. Drinks...

TONE:

Why you so ruthless, Eric, damn!

You don’t want nothin’ to drink?

What you want --

(re:
the girls)

-- you want some p*ssy?

EAZY:

Yep. But not from these strawberry

b*tches you got right here.

3.

TONE:

So you just gonna disrespect my

house like that, Cuz?

EAZY:

Dumb ass, this a dope house! It's

already disrespected.

JITTERY DUDE:

(re:
Eazy’s drugs)

Well f*** it then -- You gonna have

to let us hold on to that right

there.

ON THE COUCH, the GIRL grabs a SAWED-OFF SHOTGUN FROM UNDER A

PILLOW. Levels it at Eazy, face grimaced, hard, strung out.

EAZY:

Yeah, do what you gotta do --

‘Cause I got my homies parked

across the street from your momma's

house. I don't show up. They show

out...

Eazy just stares right back at them. The tension’s like a

pressure cooker about to burst. Until -

A WHISTLE echoes in from outside (THE LOOKOUT) -

Suddenly, everyone notices a deep RUMBLING coming from

outside. Jittery Dude steps back from the window, eyes wide -

JITTERY DUDE:

Oh, sh*t --

Because there’s a MASSIVE ARMORED VEHICLE rolling down the

street toward them. 6 TONS of steel, with a 14-foot BATTERING

RAM mounted on the front. LAPD emblazoned on the side.

JITTERY DUDE (CONT’D)

F***in’ Batter-Ram!

Everyone in the room FLIES into action, STASHING the WEAPONS

and the MONEY into hidden STASH SPOTS all over the HOUSE:

Behind fake-panel LIGHT SWITCHES, hidden HATCHES beneath the

FLOORBOARDS, in a fake-panel inside the FRIDGE. It’s some

serious MACGYVER SH*T.

Eazy grabs his ROCKS, BEE-LINES for the BACK of the HOUSE,

eyes wide, amped on adrenaline as the RUMBLING ESCALATES to

an almost UNBEARABLE LEVEL -

CRASH!!! The 14-foot BATTERING RAM PUNCHES THROUGH THE WALL.

DEBRIS FLIES EVERYWHERE. The RAM keeps coming until -

4.

The GIRLS SCREAM! The ARMORED VEHICLE REVERSES, the BATTERING

RAM POLE YANKING THE ENTIRE WALL OUT WITH IT, leaving a

MASSIVE RAGGED HOLE where we can see -

SQUAD CARS SWARMING INTO THE AREA,

COPS FLOODING TOWARD THE

HOUSE -- lots of YELLING as they

PIN everyone to the floor, it's too

late, nobody can escape; nobody but

EAZY-E kicks out a KITCHEN window, squeezes through, hits the

dirt on the side of the house. Sprints past --

A PITBULL! The GROWLING DOG hustles for Eazy as a FLASHLIGHT

hits Eazy’s back, a COP giving chase!

As they race across the back yard, the Pitbull diverts to the

cop, who panics. He’s about to get mauled until --

ANOTHER COP pops around the corner! Blasts the dog with a

FIRE EXTINGUISHER, filling the air with a dense cloud of

expellant, as --

Eazy hops on a fence, hits the garage roof and jumps in a

neighbor’s yard. Gone. He lives to slang another day...

FADE TO BLACK.

But the SOUNDS OF CHAOS carry over, infiltrate the inky

black:
SIRENS HOWLING. PEOPLE SHOUTING. HELICOPTERS BUZZING.

DOGS BARKING. A mad medley that continues into -

4 INT. VERNA’S HOUSE - BEDROOM - COMPTON - DAY 4

A PAIR OF OVERSIZED HEADPHONES, worn by ANDRE YOUNG. Better

known as –

SUPERIMPOSE:
ANDRE YOUNG AKA DR. DRE

Eyes closed, lying on his bed, slight smile pursing his lips,

he bobs his head as -

WE HEAR WHAT HE HEARS, treated to the beautiful mind of Dre.

THE SOUNDS OF CHAOS are evaporated, seemingly synthesized

into the dope melody Dre’s peacefully bobbing his head to...

WE HEAR the multi-tracks of the song -- levels go up and down

based on Dre’s subtle FACIAL REACTIONS to the various sounds.

He singles out INDIVIDUAL ELEMENTS, and as he does, WE HEAR

them, highlighting some sounds, decreasing others: BASS,

DRUMS, PIANO, VOICE... It’s pure instinct, pure joy. Until --

5.

BAM-BAM! A fist on a locked door. The music stops as Dre

removes his headphones. We now see -

DRE’S ROOM, populated with turn tables -- one side spinning

the record he’s listening to -- DJ station and a vast sea of

LPs (sure there’s Parliament, but also Duke Ellington)

scattered around the room. A music junkie’s paradise.

On the other bed, his brother TYREE (17) chills as Dre opens

the door to find -

VERNA:

What happened?

VERNA GRIFFIN, 36, his Mother, and she can smell bullshit a

mile away. He flashes his smooth, easy, magnetic Dre-smile.

DRE:

What happened with what?

VERNA:

Andre, boy, don’t play with me. Do

you even care how it makes me look?

Call in favors to get your

thoughtless ass an interview? And

you can’t even show up?

DRE:

(sighs, realizing)

Sorry, I just been so focused on

this DJing that I forgot --

She frowns, shakes her head.

VERNA:

You have a child, Andre. And

spinning records ain't payin’ none

of the bills around here right now.

DRE:

That ain’t even true, momma. I get

paid --

He pulls out a sad little wad of bills, waves it in her face.

Quick as lightning, she SNATCHES it away from him -

Rate this script:5.0 / 1 vote