White Lightning

Synopsis: An ex con teams up with federal agents to help them with breaking up a moonshine ring.
Genre: Action, Crime, Drama
Director(s): Joseph Sargent
Production: United Artists
 
IMDB:
6.3
Rotten Tomatoes:
83%
PG
Year:
1973
101 min
538 Views


You and them boys didn't get no spray

in that field.

- They'll get to it first thing in the morning.

- They better.

Fella said, "Why you beating

on the back of that truck?"

He says, "I got a two-ton truck and four

tons of canaries. I gotta keep half flyin'."

How's the whiskey business, Gator?

You make it, Mr Simms. I haul it.

Hey, boy, you ain't been drag-racin'

my sedan again, have you?

Tell you what,

you keep me working on that car,

you're gonna blow everybody

right out of the tub.

Can I have one of those?

Boy, you better get your shirt on.

You got a visitor over at the office.

- Visitor?

- Your cousin. She's got bad news for you.

Hello, Louella.

It ain't your mama or your daddy, Gator.

Donny was killed.

I drove up 'cause I knew

you'd wanna know.

Your mama didn't wanna come.

She sends her love, Gator.

Shoot! There's no way

to make it any better.

Donny was killed down in Bogan County.

Who killed him, Louella?

They're not sure.

They found him in the lake. There was

another kid from school with him.

I don't know what the hell you're talking

about. Donny didn't run liquor.

Your daddy thinks

it was on account of the sheriff.

- The sheriff?

- He thinks it was on account of...

...kids he hung out with.

All them protesting.

All them damn hippies.

Gator! How long you gonna sit there, boy?

Five days. Mr Simms said you go

and get yourself on over to the shop.

Mr Simms done give you

every break there is

and all you

son of a guns think you got to do

is just make moonshine liquor and don't

give a damn about nothin' or nobody...

Gator, where in the hell

you think you're goin'?

Look like you gonna dig me a ditch

all the way to Memphis, Gator.

You did your time pretty good up to here.

You only got one more year to go.

Two ways you can do it: hard or easy.

Bill, get them boys started

about 50 yards on up the field.

Move it out.

Put down that shovel.

You listen to me, boy.

Ain't nothin' you, I or anybody else can do.

Your brother's dead

and you ain't goin' home for another year.

You can do your time easy,

that's all I'm saying.

I've seen a hell of a lot

of old boys come and go.

Captain.

- Federal law got me in here, didn't it?

- What'd you say?

I said the federal law

got me in here, didn't it?

- You reckon it can get me out?

- What are you drivin' at?

Sheriff in Bogan County, what's his name?

J C Connors?

You know he's taking money

from the whiskey business, don't you?

I'll get evidence against him.

JC?

Boy, he runs Bogan County.

Yeah. But I'll nail his ass.

Let those reports go for now

and wait outside.

Gator, this is Mr Cantrell.

Mr Cantrell, it's your wingding.

Sit down, Mr McKlusky.

Mr Simms tells us you want to cooperate

with the federal department.

Is that correct?

Yeah.

Let's see.

12 months remaining in your sentence.

Second offence:
making and transporting

untaxed whiskey.

- As you understand...

- Third.

- I beg your pardon?

- Third offence.

First time I was 13.

Yeah.

If information related to federal income-tax

evasion or unpaid liquor tax is obtained,

it's within the policy of the government

to cooperate with state-prison officials.

We have a file on the Bogan County

sheriff. He's a damn tough cookie.

He's got several unsolved homicides going

for him, as well as other circumstances.

But our jurisdiction is only the manufacture

of untaxed, illegal whiskey.

If you haul from an illegal steal,

that's direct evidence.

If you see he receives money,

that's direct evidence.

If you can testify as to money paid

to the sheriff's department, that's evidence.

If you can determine the actual location

of illegal, unreported income,

that is a federal case.

Do you understand?

Well? Gonna miss it, McKlusky?

Gosh, yes. I'm gonna miss

all that good cooking.

Pay attention.

This is Dude Watson.

He's your contact man in Bogan County.

Right now you can find him

driving down at the Benton Speedway.

Read this file. All of it.

Bye, boys. Have a good time.

- McKlusky?

- Yeah.

Over here.

There it is. Take a look at it.

This is the car you'll do

your whiskey running in.

- Who tuned it?

- D'you like it?

Doggone! Would you look at that motor!

The guy who did it's one of our boys.

He used to do a little running.

Watson operates a garage.

- We've got him on federal probation, so...

- Would you look at that engine...

We've got him on federal probation,

therefore he'll help you.

- Is that it?

- Good luck.

- See you, fella.

- Yeah.

Keep that thing between the ditches.

Gator?

Gator? Gator.

Gator McKlusky. Sherry Lynne.

- Sherry Lynne, how are you, darlin'?

- Hi there.

- I know you. What's your name?

- I'm Becky-Jo's little sister.

Last time I saw you, you were flat-chested.

- This is Kip.

- Gator's a funny name.

Kip's a funny name, too.

Here's one for the kipper.

- Where have you been?

- I've been saving myself, darlin'.

For what?

All right, all right!

- Gator what?

- Gator anything you like.

- I'm trying to talk.

- I wanna know his name.

- You get me excited, I'll eat you up.

- You going to see your mama and papa?

You tell your mama...

Gator?

Hello, Papa.

Oh!

Hello, Mama.

I would have written more, Mama,

but I didn't know what to say.

That's what Donny used to say...

What do you think you might do now, son?

- What happened to Donny?

- Don't you go hauling no more liquor.

- I ain't.

- You think you might get a job at Rexville?

What happened to Donny, Mama?

We don't know.

I don't want nothin' to happen to you,

Bobby. I just can't stand it no more.

- Tell her it's gonna be all right.

- Whatever you got in your head, get it out!

- It's gonna be all right.

- "Settle yourself. " No.

- That's what Donny said.

- Now, hush.

There's no call for that.

Now quit it! Come on.

Gator's home. He had supper with us.

We're sitting out here on the porch

like we always did.

I don't rightly know

what happened to your brother, son.

I don't understand it.

He wasn't mixed up in the law no way.

But you know what they say

college kids do these days.

But it's all right.

You're home now. We can get in that crop.

When are you leaving?

In the morning.

Where are you going, son?

Where are you going?

- Bogan County.

- You listen to your daddy.

Stay away from there.

Don't get us mixed up in more trouble.

Know how I got out of prison, Daddy?

The law. The law let me out.

What do you mean, son?

That sheriff, he owns Bogan County.

We ain't gonna get him for killing Donny.

The only way you're gonna get

that sheriff... is for taking whiskey money.

Are you goin' for the federal laws?

Taking names of liquor people

and turning them in?

- I'm gonna get that sheriff.

- Taking names, that's...

I'm gonna get that sheriff.

It's a bad thing, Bobby.

race commentary)

Howdy.

Say, how are you?

You Dude Watson?

That's what they call me.

- I hear you're a hell of a mechanic.

- Oh, yeah?

Shoot. Well, I don't know.

You wanna... tune up my old iron here?

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William W. Norton

William Wallace "Bill" Norton, Jr. (September 24, 1925 – October 1, 2010) was an American screenwriter. Later in life, he was convicted of gun running in France when he tried to send arms from the United States to the Irish National Liberation Army in Northern Ireland. After being released from prison, he moved to Nicaragua, where he shot and killed an intruder in his Managua home. He later spent a year living in Cuba but became disillusioned with Communism and was reportedly smuggled from Mexico into the U.S. by his ex-wife. more…

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