Original subtitles

I'm the man who's gonna take down

Kate Leigh and Tilly Devine.

And you are gonna help me.

Nobody pushes me around.

I haven't even started to push yet.

We got rid of your mate, Squizzy Taylor.

And we can get rid of you.

Judge says Kate Leigh

must be the worst woman in Sydney.

No mention of Tilly Devine.

You're a gangster, aren't you?

Say you are.

It gives you a thrill, does it?

I've never met anyone like you.

I know from my contact down south.

You're a serious fella.

I thought maybe we can do some good for each other.

See, I don't think I need

a fancy man like you, Phil.

Oh, sorry Mr. Bruhn.

Oh, bloody heck.

I'd sooner cut my own heart out.

You ever had a razor cut?

Bleeding never stops.

With these things,

one stroke light as a feather,

you can open a man's face to the bone.

Walk in the light, be visible.

You're sending a message.

Darlinghurst is not a lawless town.

Right?

Off you go.

Be careful, won't you?

Yeah, yeah.

We wouldn't know what to do without you.

George Wallace.

Good day, Sid.

You wanna donnybook?

That's not exactly what we had in mind.

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ I've been working hard ♪

♪ Working all night ♪

♪ You know I've been working hard ♪

♪ Working all night ♪

Norman Bruhn had launched his grand plan

to drive Tilly and Kate out of business.

He'd attacked the toughest man in Sydney,

leaving a calling card

that was violent and bloody

and impossible to ignore.

♪ Him around ♪

Aye!

Don't give for free

nothing you could charge for.

Don't flash your bloomers neither.

Hello, Kelly.

Coming in to spend your dosh?

Where's your brother?

He ain't here?

It's amazing, too, all right?

We pries that clam open.

Good and proper!

If Jack had pressed just that bit harder,

there'd be one less Kelly breathing oxygen.

Pressed as hard as I wanted him to.

But won't come after you?

Kicker Kelly?

Very bloody disappointed if the coot don't oblige

with a bit of payback.

And when Kelly or his brother

or their mates have a go,

I'll cut him up

and send them back out again as me messages.

And if they wanna have another go,

I'll cut him again.

Yeah!

They're thick enough to have another go.

I'll cut 'em again.

- Yeah! - Any of 'em!

I'll cut 'em and I'll keep on cutting

until Kate Leigh, Tilly Divine,

Phil "the Jew" Jeffs.

The whole bang lot of 'em

get me message.

Yeah!

Irene, good night.

Noel got that loose tooth out.

Long last.

Think you can find him a halfpenny?

You know I'm the tooth fairy.

What are you doing?

You lost a button.

I can match it.

So who was it, Sid?

Couldn't say.

Tall, short, fair, dark?

Couldn't say.

Razor.

Unusual weapon.

Got into forks with this barber once.

Maybe he's getting square.

Enough, Kelly.

Tilly Devine and Kate Leigh have been around for years.

No one's ever taken a cutthroat to a man before.

What if you just stood over one drunk too many?

I am not being a copper for you.

I'm not saying a thing.

Mom.

Mom.

The kettle's boiling.

Irene.

We'll have the range out.

Eat up, boys.

Keith.

Eat your breakfast.

The assault certainly made

the victim's blood flow

if his attacker's weapon was not a pistol or cosh.

So this correspondent was told an ordinary folding razor.

Oh, a razor?

That's a good idea.

You should carry one, Jim.

You too, Frank.

I'm a gunman, Tilly.

Not a razor man.

We don't get six months in Long Bay jail

for carrying a razor.

Slashing Kicker Kelly.

This cav Norman Bruhn

won't have his wits about him.

He puts his filthy mitts on our business

I bloody take to him with a bloody razor of me on.

All right, girls.

Clean drawers time.

Hey careful now.

You'll put an eye out.

Hey, ain't that the boss who slashed Kelly?

Get your hand off, it's sunny.

Shut your eyes.

And put out your hand.

Shrapnel.

Present from Pozieres.

Medic dug it out and I kept it.

Good luck charm.

Don't look at that bloke again.

Fallen comrades.

Lest we forget.

Start something around here.

Gotta finish it.

Melbourne.

No weapons.

Go ahead.

See how far you get.

Like everyone else,

Norman Bruhn had been expecting reprisals.

They were part of his plan.

But he'd imagined a dark alley and a razor in his hand.

He'd imagined winning.

Imagined scaring Kate and Tilly even further.

What he got was a classic Sydney packarding.

After Packard, the make of boot the gangsters favored.

The assault was witnessed by a dozen slime barbers.

Yet police say none could

or would identify the men responsible.

The chief victim, Mr. Norman Bruin,

is the reputed leader of the worst gang

of thugs on the street.

But Mrs. Kate Lee, a person who's sometimes described

as the queen of the underworld,

told this correspondent

that though she had heard Mr. Bruhn's name in passing,

she thought him of no consequence.

Oh.

No.

Clear off.

All of you.

I'm not.

Baby Ray has a dog.

The dog is lit, lit...

Little.

The dog is little.

You keep practicing, Keithy.

Show up all them posh kids, eh?

Baby Ray has a dog.

The dog is little.

Norm.

Maybe.

You should get out of this business

you're in. - Don't start.

I'm lying here

and you are having a go

at how I bring in and bloody earn.

Language, love.

You've got enough to eat, don't you?

Boys aren't in bloody rags, are they?

Everything I do is for you and the boys.

I came up here to get us a better life

and that's what I'm gonna do.

A wise man would've given up

and gone back to Melbourne.

But for Norman Bruhn, there was no going back.

♪ He's tall, mad, mean, and good looking ♪

♪ And he's got me in his eye ♪

♪ When he looks at me ♪

On the contrary, he went on and on,

pushing harder and closer to Tilly and Kate.

♪ Big bad handsome man, yeah ♪

♪ He's got me in the palm of his hand ♪

♪ He's the devil divine ♪

♪ I'm so glad that he's mine ♪

♪ Cause he's my big bad handsome man ♪

♪ Whoa ♪

♪ The music he plays ♪

♪ The way he moves me and sways ♪

♪ Rocks me to the core ♪

His strategy was simple.

He was gonna panic them into leaving.

Scare them into yielding.

After all, there were only a couple of women.

How much calculated terror could they take?

♪ He's got me in the palm of his hand ♪

♪ He's the devil divine ♪

♪ I'm so glad that he's mine ♪

♪ He's my big bad handsome man ♪

The third target

of Norman's standover campaign

was Phil Jeffs and his two up schools.

They were handy and inexhaustible little earner.

♪ Oh, my big bad handsome man, yeah ♪

♪ He's got me in the palm of his hand ♪

♪ He's the devil divine ♪

♪ I'm so glad that he's mine ♪

♪ Cause he's my big bad ♪

♪ I'm so glad ♪

♪ That he's my big bad handsome man ♪

You, get him to St. Vincent's.

In those heady bygone days,

a weapon of terror cost just a few pence.

Suddenly, every street hood

and standover wannabe in the city

was carrying a Bengal blade and using it.

Norman Bruhn had ushered in the era

of the razor gangs.

More razor attacks!

Streets are running red!

Read it in "Truth!"

More razor attacks!

Streets are running red.

As for the police,

well, Blind Freddy could see there was a war on.

But figuring out the who's, why's, and wherefores?

Well, that required someone actually opening their mouth.

So whose blood's that, then?

They're yours, Ernest Wilson.

Not yours, I hope, Mr. Jeffs.

No, it's not blood, inspector.

My clumsy associate here spilled a pot of paint.

The fuck's going on?

Nothing.

The fuck is going on?

Nothing.

Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?

You're a sensible woman, Kate.

Something nasty is brewing.

Besides you're watered down whiskey.

I don't water me whiskey.

Whatever this is,

it's getting out of hand.

Is it Jeffs?

The Divines? Are you and Tilly feuding again?

Or have you ladies pitched in together?

Decided you'll slash your way

through the competition.

Bill, I know that you've got a job to do,

but there's three things that you need to know.

One, I don't water me whiskey.

Two, I've always looked after me own.

And three, I can boot Tilly Devine

a bigger distance than I trust her

pitching with anyone.

Don't understand why you'd think of me

and her in the same breath.

Selling illicit liquor, peddling dope,

ruining young girls' lives.

No, no, no.

No one could say I've done terrible things like Kate Leigh.

Mrs. Devine, I'm trying to help you here.

Jeffs, you, Kate Leigh.

Someone's targeting you

'cause you all trade in the same general area.

Listen, Mackay.

I wouldn't let dog shit

in the same fucking area as Kate fucking Lee.

Now fuck off out me arse.

Got shit to do.

Go on.

Turn around.

Get around.

Can I have a go next, Dad?

Of course you can.

Keep peddling.

Keep peddling.

Prince of Wales had one just like it.

Pedals it round Windsor Castle.

Soon I'll buy us a place in the suburbs.

Aruba, maybe.

Lane Cove.

Some nice new clothes.

Silk stockings.

Electric sewing machine.

Some books for the boys.

Norman Bruhn had handpicked his gang

with an eye to diversity.

Snowy Cutmore was a vicious loose cannon.

George Wallace was a loyal attack dog.

While Razor Jack Hayes,

well, he brought certain technical skills.

And you could never be sure

where the gang would strike next.

♪ Mmm, stuck in my throat ♪

♪ Pulling me down ♪

♪ Like a rumble in the ground ♪

♪ Crawls up from the depths ♪

♪ With a deep down sound ♪

♪ Johnny got a boom boom ♪

♪ Johnny got a bam ♪

♪ He got a ♪

♪ Big bomb body ♪

♪ Lonely neck ♪

♪ Swear it was a woman ♪

♪ That he had in his grip ♪

♪ Big vibrations yeah ♪

♪ Just one glance ♪

♪ He's gonna blow my mind ♪

♪ He's make me wanna ♪

♪ Make me wanna ♪

Butchers in our shop

didn't appreciate being blown up.

Can't say I blame him.

Oh yeah, those two blokes selling your snow

up on Oxford Street.

Going back to the pie factory.

Probably worried about their throats getting slashed.

Geez.

Thanks for your insight, May.

Barney's here.

Don't be so familiar.

He's Mr. Dalton to you.

Where have you been?

All the different spots.

Ran from Cleveland Street down Crown to the wharfs.

- Do sprints? - Anyone in the groggeries?

Yeah.

Sprints with her. - Ma, can I have scone?

They were trying

to trick in. - Any rippers?

No, not at all.

Bruce scared them all off.

What about Kippat Street, Mack's?

- Ma, can I have a scone? - No, you can't.

Spoil your figure.

You know -

Will you just stop talking football?

Actually all of you, just get out of me kitchen.

Go on, piss off!

Not you.

We need more blades.

You make sure that Greg, Octopus, Barney,

make sure all the boys carry 'em.

If that's what you want.

I don't want.

I don't want stoop to Norman Bruhn's filthy level.

But you have to retaliate first.

You do have a friend in a high place.

Maybe he could help.

I don't think the Lord's gonna piss Bruhn off for me

no matter how hard I pray.

I was thinking of a more earthly power.

So Norman Bruhn's behind this mayhem?

Not you, Jeffs, the Devines?

You've all turning the other cheek?

You wanted someone to tell you what's what.

Norman Bruhn.

That's what.

Now go out and arrest him.

And your men?

They prepared to stand in court,

swear it was Bruhn who cut 'em?

Nah.

St. Vincent's treated 22 razor victims

this past month.

One lad lost in ear.

Another had his sniffer lopped off.

Not one of them would say who they came to be, huh?

Fine.

If you're scared of Bruhn and his droobs.

I'm as scared of you and yours

and Jeffs and the Devines.

Pains me to say this,

but not one of yous in line for the sainthood.

Everything was just fine

before Bruhn swanned up from Melbourne.

Until one of your lot breaks

your precious code of silence,

there's precious little I can do about that.

Turn over a place.

A couple of days, it opens up again.

Making next to no boodle.

Told you these Sydney sheilas weren't pushovers.

A little dosh and muscle.

Now this is bull, Norm.

We should just.

Shut up.

Show us some balls and fix

the bitches. - Shut up, you glud.

Mr. Bruhn?

Inspector McKay, Darlinghurst police.

I believe you've already had the pleasure

of Detective Sergeant Wickham's acquaintance.

Conducting a search for illegal weapons

under Section 4.1

of the Pistol Licensing Act 1927.

Interesting.

That's not a pistol.

He's a puzzle, Detective Wickham.

Why would a man carry a razor in his pocket

when he appears another man to shave him?

It's not illegal.

Get 'em.

You wanna watch out, Mr. Bruhn.

Making a name for yourself.

Yeah?

Aye.

Which means we'll be keeping a nice close eye on you.

Luigi.

Get us a half a dozen more

of your best Bengals, will you?

Oh hey, bloody footy.

All that running and sweating?

Never would've guessed.

What do you want, George?

I want your wallet, Wally.

Wallet Wally, wallet Wally.

It wasn't his face, or even his arm.

Barney Dalton was one of the most

popular rugby league players of his era.

But not after a severed Achilles tendon.

Not after Norman Bruhn.

Ma?

They're for Barney and Wally.

Can have from that cake tin.

The Jew's here.

Who?

Phil the Jew.

Here in our house?

Morning.

How's your boys?

Well.

Barney will walk with a limp

for the rest of his days.

And Wally, well, he's not winning any beauty pageants.

He was an oil painting to begin with.

You know, I knew Bruhn was a bastard,

but this, this,

was a real bastard act.

Well, you know what his game is, don't you?

He's gonna go through all our people till he gets to us.

You, me, Tilly.

Yeah, well I'm not scared of him.

He's welcome to the cockney slag.

Hey, if he takes out just one of us,

he's gonna be unstoppable.

Every hood in this city is gonna be howling

to join his putsch.

Bruhn is changing the rules.

We gotta change with it.

How?

You said a private meeting of important personages.

So what the fuck

is she doing here? - Mrs. Devine, We both

look bad, that aside.

Look, I know it's toilsome,

but we've got a common problem here.

There's only one thing common in here.

Right?

So Bruin's the problem.

We killed the slasher.

Problem solved.

Couple of bullets.

Pew pew.

What?

You wanna bring every copper in Sydney down on us?

They gotta thing about murders.

They hang you for it.

Oh, maybe you could pull the trigger.

Do us all a favor.

Ms. Leigh does have a point.

Look, we're all suffering the slings and arrows

of an outrageous loss of force

thanks to this Bruhn.

Your customers are only gonna stay away in more droves

if they think they're gonna meet their maker

if they come up this way.

- You got an idea, dear Jeffs? - Yeah, we scare 'em off.

Shoot 'em in the knee.

Both knees.

Then we drive 'em to a railway station,

put a siren mount his neck, return to Melbourne.

Just kill him.

It's for the best.

Jim?

You got a point, Til.

Our boy Frank Green'll the shooting.

The little gunman?

Oh, he stops against chandeliers.

Not so flashy against the -

Anything we suggest she poo-poos.

My boy Greg Gaffney's your bloke.

He's got guts.

Spends his time carousing at your deprived groggeries.

You ever heard of pots

and kettles? - It really upsets me

being in your proximity.

It took a while, but eventually,

the Council of War

thrashed out a plan to kneecap Norman.

Big Jim Devine would choose the gun.

Kate Leigh would provide the gunman.

And Phil Jeff's boys, the Kelly brothers.

They would be the backup plan.

Norman Bruhn was problem solved.

But then Tilly Devine went home,

hatched her own grand plan,

and kept it all to herself.

You want me to shoot Norman Bruhn?

Yeah.

Do the job Kate Leigh's too chicken

to see done proper

Killing, eh?

Jeez.

Well yeah, sure thing.

I'm your gunman.

I can do it.

Do it like that.

You pay me, right?

For...

20 quid.

Didn't Jim agree to just knob him?

Ah, Jimmy's not thinking straight.

As soon as he sees the headline, Bruhn dead,

he'll know my way was best.

You're the gunman or aren't you, Frankie?

You want the street chiming in Greg Gaffney's name?

You want him called the gunman or you?

I'll fix 'em for you, Tilly.

No sheilas in here, love.

Can I please have a Sherry?

All right, just as one.

You don't need that.

Pretty as a picture already.

You are going to get me into trouble, little gunman

Buy all this, did he?

You know he's married?

A couple kids.

I don't know what you see in him.

He's old and he's from Melbourne.

He's the best.

He's the best.

Not gonna happen, Frank.

Nelly, Nelly.

I'll pay you.

Dan has the bag.

Ned is a big man.

He is by him.

Baby Ray has a dog.

The dog is little.

Good boy, Keithy.

New shave.

Nell has the doll

on her lap.

She will put her doll in the cod.

Where'd you get that?

Working?

Good girl.

Sometimes Wal gets lucky.

But more often than not, it's just her.

And her pug ugly daughter.

K-k-kay.

She's ripe for the picking.

But pick our moment.

Blow the door.

Scare the daylights out of her living tits?

She'll think her number's up.

I like my idea better.

Just kill Kate and telly.

You need me to spell it out for you again, Snow?

You need me to remind you

how well known Kate and Tilly are?

How killing them be the act of shortsighted galood

who didn't value his neck?

Have you not got that?

I got it.

Are you sure?

Seems there's an itch in your decks

you're just longing to scratch.

I'm sweet.

You're the one letting the beer go off.

Snowy Cutmore Had yet another plan.

He was going to kill his boss and take over the gang,

but he'd have to join a queue of people

wanting to do Norman Bruhn harm that night.

Give him the packarding for me.

Let's go.

it was a long queue.

Here's when the job's done.

What's going on?

Nothing.

Are you still dirty about Kate Leigh?

The woman just raised her voice

and you killed (indistinct).

Can you not?

Just trying to keep the cops off our backs.

You and me will swing pass Leigh's joints.

Whatever you say, Norm.

Meet up, later.

Come on, Georgie Porgie.

How come you got a bonzo nickname like Razor Jack.

and get Georgie Porgie?

Oy, Grandpa.

Mack's Cafe, mate.

Isn't that Kate Leigh?

That was Leigh.

Get our cut from Mack's first, eh?

She'll cave.

You're the boss.

You gents be wanting me further?

Yeah, wait here.

I'm coming.

I'm coming.

I'm coming.

You gents need a cab?

You best push off, mate.

Free wheeling it?

Push off.

I'm coming.

What the bloody hell was that?

What the hell?

Who's that?

That's Bruhn.

Help.

I'm shot.

Let's go.

You'll be all right, mate.

Mr. Bruhn.

Inspector Mackay.

You remember me?

I won't shelf anyone.

Come on, Norman.

I assure you.

I won't be a copper.

You got nothing to lose, mate.

Do the right thing.

Fuck.

Oh. - Mr. Bruhn.

Oh, you heard him.

My husband's got nothing to say.

Don't leave me.

Mrs. Bruhn.

My condolences.

Did he say anything?

Did he tell you who shot him?

No, he didn't.

I wouldn't tell you if he had.

He's dead.

That wasn't the plan.

Yeah, it wasn't me, Kate.

I never even got the chance.

Well, who?

Hm?

Who killed him?

We only caught a glimpse.

I think it was Frank Green.

Tilly fucking Divine.

I had the guts

'cause you're a fucking pussy!

I had the guts to do it!

♪ Headlong ♪

♪ Straight up ♪

♪ Fall down ♪

♪ Get up ♪

♪ Oh ♪

♪ We'll run ♪

♪ We'll lead ♪

♪ We'll fall ♪

♪ We'll bleed ♪

♪ We'll win ♪

♪ We'll crush ♪

♪ Your end ♪

♪ Not us ♪

♪ Disappointment is everywhere ♪

♪ In your eyes ♪

♪ I can see it there ♪

♪ Pointless ends and pointless means ♪

♪ In this moment you'll see ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪