The Making of 'The Condemned'

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I want him.

Bella, talk to me.

New 30-second spot's ready to roll.

Great.

Cut a few images in of this new guy.

That mug's priceless.

- Eddie, how you trackin'?

- We're hot.

- How hot?

- White hot.

I got "A" team blitzing

chat rooms and blogs.

"B" team's buying ads

and placing the spots.

Site's getting 700 hits per minute.

- Awareness on porn and fight blogs: 92%.

- Bella's got a new 30.

I want you to run that across every sex,

fight and gamer site now.

Hit the gamers hard.

- Got it.

- Push it, people. Push it.

Somewhere, someone on this planet

does not know about this show.

Asia, Africa, Antarctica.

There's a f***ing

Eskimo sitting in his little igloo...

who does not know

that we go live in 22 hours.

Find him. Get him. Eddie.

Ninety-two?

I want a hundred.

- You got it?

- You got it.

Did you leave...

No more oranges today.

That's it for the oranges, okay?

Throw it away.

Is that solo ready?

Is it ready?

You know where to put it.

- Hey, pal.

- Hey.

Just so you know, we're f***ed.

Oh, yeah. We are screwed.

This show ain't happenin'.

Goldman, come on.

Talk to me.

Where are we at?

Where are we at?

I've got 87 cluster-cams

ready and rigged.

I got 147 solos

with all built-in mikes, okay?

I got 60 to 70 all ready

to go out in the field.

- So altogether there's 400 lenses, right?

- Great.

But there are dead spots

all over this island.

I do not have enough time.

This show is not going off.

We are at war, Goldy.

Gotta improvise, overcome, adapt.

This is not war, Breck.

This is television.

It's much more complicated.

I do not have enough hardware...

and if you haven't noticed,

we're in the middle of nowhere.

Mango, do not touch.

What did I say before?

I told you an hour and a half ago.

Do not touch. Thank you.

And on top... Where are you going with that?

Can I have that? Thank you.

Here's the really cool thing.

I got these all-stars.

It's really great,

because between the lot of them...

they all speak three words of English.

So I'm supposed to

run an operation...

that is basically bigger than Farm Aid

meets We Are the World...

and I'm supposed to do it

in sign language?

Are you out of your mind?

Do I look like Quincy Jones?

- Breck.

- You know, it's all gonna work out.

- You know why?

- Why?

'Cause you're the best.

- For the love of Christ.

- Hey, babe.

Donna Sereno just arrived.

Good. She know the score?

Tomorrow morning.

You're her top story.

But be ready.

She's a tough nut.

She's the big dog.

Want the big press,

gotta go to the big dog.

Right. Do it like that.

All right. How do I look?

I'd do ya.

Yeah, but how do I look?

Go get 'em.

Lettuce? Do you want

tomato or anything?

Give me that freakin' sandwich.

Go to work on my satellite.

So, without a major network behind you,

how do you plan to broadcast your show?

The Internet.

I've pulled 10 contestants

from third world prisons.

Each was on death row.

I will free one of them.

See, tomorrow, I'm gonna

bring them here to this island...

where I will give them

a fighting chance at a new life.

It's a fight to the death.

One lives, nine die?

You're airing a live snuff film.

No, Donna.

These contestants were

already dead... condemned.

I'm allowing one to live.

Is that so wrong?

It's immoral and illegal.

You're a multimillionaire who may become

a billionaire producing murder.

I'm done with Hollywood.

I'm going direct to my audience,

worldwide and live.

And my numbers will demolish any show

on any network this year.

Mark my words.

Breck, we have a problem.

I like to think of it

more as a challenge.

We just lost one of our headliners.

What do you mean "lost"?

- They shot my Arab?

- Uh-huh.

We had him on the mainland,

and they shot my f***in' Arab?

Relax. Relax. Okay.

We got a replacement.

- How'd the interview go?

- Smooth as butter.

Replacement? Who? What? Where?

What have we got?

Jos Havanando.

Hard-core Guatemalan.

Convicted of 13 torture killings.

He's ready to go.

I don't want a f***ing Guatemalan.

I already got two Mexicans.

Look. You see here?

This is the Arab world.

If they don't have anybody to cheer for,

they don't log on.

I want a f***ing Arab!

Child-killing, Koran-ranting,

suicide-bombing Arab.

Okay, okay. We're on.

Our scout in Central America...

has got a line

on a 6'7" Islamic fundamentalist.

He's in a joint in El Salvador.

Warden's good to go.

- He's ours if we want him.

- Get him online.

Crew's en route to the prison now.

Hashim.

Gringo, the warden wants you now.

Tell the warden to go f*** himself.

What's this all about?

Bullshit.

Can I go now?

Who the hell is this guy?

What have you got, Eddie?

American.

Arrested one year ago

in San Miguel, El Salvador.

Killed three men.

Awaiting death sentence.

Thank you, God.

I thought you wanted an Arab.

Forget the Arab.

I got this guy. He's perfect.

With anti-Americanism

rampant all over the globe...

people are gonna love

to hate this cowboy.

Clean him up.

Let's bring him down.

Get him on a plane.

Come here. Give me the key.

I'll do you a deal. Hey, come back.

Americano, huh?

Big boy.

Gonna cut you like

sazizza, capito?

So where they pull you from?

Put a muzzle in it, boy.

- You're already boring me.

- Who you callin' "boy"?

"Ewan McStarley.

London, England.

Four years, Special Forces.

Three peacekeeping tours

through Africa.

Set fire to a village in Rwanda.

Executed 17 men, raped nine women."

Torture. Mutilation. Good stuff.

You ladies should

get along real good.

What in the f*** is wrong with you?

All in a day's work, Rasta.

Get this top off her.

We're in show business,

not a soup kitchen.

Where's my new guy?

The American.

Right over there.

Hey. I'm Ian Breckel.

- I produce television.

- Well, good for you.

Maybe you heard of me.

Bud, I ain't been watchin'

too much TV lately.

Why don't you have a seat?

You and the others

will be taken to an island...

where you'll fight against each other.

If you're the last one

left alive after 30 hours...

I will set you free

with a pocket full of cash.

- How's that sound?

- What's this got to do with TV?

Not TV.

The Internet.

I'll be streaming the entire event

live across the World Wide Web.

Your rap sheet's a little thin.

"Jack Conrad, American.

Blew up a building in El Salvador,

killing three men."

- What were you doing in El Salvador?

- Workin' on my tan.

- Why'd you blow the building up?

- It was blockin' my sun.

- What do you do for a living, Jack?

- I'm an interior decorator.

Okay. I see.

Well, where are you from

back in the States then, huh?

- Alaska.

- Alaska. Whereabouts?

About 80 miles north of Anchorage.

Little fishing town.

You probably heard of it.

It's called F*** Your Mama.

Babe, do me a favor.

Why don't you write a bio for this redneck.

Let's say he's from Arkansas.

An arsonist, a racist,

a KKK Klansman.

Blew up a Baptist church.

Fugitive from the FBI.

Ended up in Central America...

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