All language subtitles for Bang.Bang.2024.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264

Washington is on his knees now!

Rozyski has done it.

Bang Bang has his vindication,
and in only four months after

his brother Bobby's brutal loss,
the future hall of famer,

Darnell Washington.

Bang Bang, just get out.

- Last year, I told my wife,
- I said,

"Babe, I think I got that itch."

And her face dropped faster

than a cat lapping
chain lightning.

- And she said to me, she said,
- "Darnell,

I do not want to hear it.

You are too damn old
to make a comeback."

I said, "I know, but I'm not
talking about fighting

in the ring.

I'm talking about fighting
for this city."

After countless hours
of prayerful reflection

with family and friends,
I realized that my decision.

No ramp?

Wasn't a decision at all.

It was a calling.

The fucking wheelchair.

Now, the road ahead
is not gonna be easy.

You see,
over the past few weeks,

I've talked to a lot of folks,

and I keep hearing
the same words over, and over,

and over again.

Justice, respect, and change.

Because no matter who you are
or what neighborhood

you come from,

I believe that we all
want the same things.

The only question is,
how do we get it?

No, I'm asking y'all.

How do we get it?

You can start by fixing my roof.

- Yeah, right.
- You know what?

No, she's right.

'Cause when we talk
housing crisis repair,

we know we're not talking
about somebody

that wants a marble countertop
or granite, right?

People's houses are crumbling.

Your man's out here
living like I'm in a hotel,

talking about
the housing crisis.

Thank you, Dr. Oz.

I'm out of here.

Look, I'm not gonna
stand up here and give you

that same old song and dance
like my opponents.

Do I live nice?

Heck yes, I do.

But I earned that.

Isn't that what you want, right?

Yeah.

Someone who grew up here?

- Yes.
- Who made it?

Right.

Someone who can inspire change?

"What does he know
about politics", they say.

Well, what do they know
about the 313, I say.

In the great spirit
of Mother Rosa Parks,

this city may be down, but
it most certainly is not out.

And I'm ready to go 12 rounds
for y'all.

But what I want to know is,
are y'all ready to go

12 rounds for me?

Yes.

I said, are y'all ready
to go 12 rounds for me?

Yes.

That's what I'm talking about.

Come October,
let me give you what you need.

Vote Washington.

Washington, Washington,
Washington.

Washington, Washington.

Hey, you carrying it
means you don't need it.

And clean up your shit
from here.

Idiot.

What the fuck are you doing?

What is wrong with you?

Give me a break.

The hoodie?

I hardly recognized him.

Hardly recognized you,
for Christ's sake.

Since when do you use a chair?

Since my dick's too damn heavy.

That was fun. Thank you.

Look around, Jess.

This is why you're not
in private school anymore.

Because Martha Stewart here
needed a shit-colored backsplash

to go with his
piss-stained walls.

Private school?

John worked his ass off
on this kitchen.

And I only paid him 2 grand.

Say hello to your grandfather.

Hey.

Stare at that phone long enough,

your other eye's
gonna droop, too.

- You're drenched.
- Why are you sweating so heavy?

I ran a fucking marathon.

What's it to you?

Your mom ever take you
to that house

we used to live in
up in Arden Park?

The one with the pool?

Went by there today.

Place looks like shit.

Hedges are wild,
concrete's all cracked.

Not like when we lived there,
huh, Jenny?

You mean for the year
we were there?

Three years,

until those insects
from the bank stole it away.

What, have you got a body
in there?

Let's talk upstairs.

So what's with the gun?

I was planning on
shooting somebody.

I need you to watch him
for a while.

Watch him?

I haven't seen either of you
for a year and a half.

You called Carol
a trout sniffer.

Oh, Jesus.

It was Christmas.

We were having fish.

You don't say that
to my girlfriend,

especially not the day
you meet her.

So this is my punishment?

I gotta babysit?

Guess who doesn't have
a girlfriend?

Me.

Guess what doesn't drop panties?

Young grandpas.

Whatever.
I took a job in Chicago.

I could send cash,
come back on weekends, too.

Why can't Steve Jobs
go with you?

I'm staying on a friend's couch.

Also, he's on probation.

He got in trouble in school.

For what?

Jobs?

You gotta be shitting me.

200 hours of community service.

Where?

Some scrap pit in Highland Park.

And he likes it.

He's got a bunch of friends.

I don't know.

I gotta buy shit for him,
feed him.

It's not a good time.

He's not a fucking gerbil.

I just told you, he stays busy.

What? You don't think
I have a life?

What do you think I do all day?

Oh, no. I'm sure
you're very busy wheeling around

with your gun.

Oh, yeah?

Just the other day,

John saw some tweaker
eating out of the garbage.

Guy looks up, he's got
blood and guts

all over his mouth
and a half-dead fucking rat

in his hands.

This city's not safe.

I don't ask you for anything.

Eh, it's not a good idea.

What part?

Getting to know your grandson
or helping out your daughter?

Both.

I told him this was a bad idea.

Son of a bitch.

What's wrong?

Nothing. We're leaving.

-Hold up.
-What?

Don't forget your body.

Justin, can you please help?

The suitcase isn't gonna
carry itself.

It's fine, it's fine.
I'll stay.

I don't think you get it.

Your grandfather
doesn't want you here.

Jesus, the both of you.

Just stay.

Stay already.

You're not fucking around?

I wish I was.

Thank you.

Least I could do.

It's only for a little while
until I get settled.

And he's sweet, you'll see.

Uh-huh.

Sure.

This one?

No, no.

Gracias.

Happy to help.

We've-- we've tried everything.

He's-- he's just not eating it.

Use the fork to carve
little rivers in it,

so that the gravy
has a place to go

and then put the vegetables
on top of that.

Oh, okay.

Is Leon still in the kitchen?

Uh, I'm actually new
at Rosedale,

so I don't know where Leon is.

Alright.

Well, if all else fails, just
give him a fucking cookie.

He loves cookies.

Cookies?

I got it.

What's your name?

- I'm Betsy.
- Thanks, Betsy.

I appreciate the call.

Don't-- don't worry about it.

We'll-- we'll keep trying
with him.

Thanks for your help.

And tell Edna that the check's
in the mail, like it always is.

What happened to all
the tough white guys?

-Laimbeer.
-Laim who?

Bill Laimbeer.

Nasty white dude.

We used to be tough, too,
you know.

Maybe you should write a letter
to the commissioner.

I'm sure he'd appreciate it.

What commissioner?

Of the league.

You're being a smartass,
but I'm serious.

It's not the same.

All these guys hoisting it up
from half court.

That's the league now.

What, pussies?

Three pointers.

Outside game.

What the fuck?

You never had
a ketchup sandwich?

Keeps the appetite in check.

I used to live off those when
I was trying to make weight.

Plus, it cuts down
on the grocery bills.

Your mom says you've
been scrapping at school.

Come on, you can kiss and tell.

What'd you do?

Ring some kid's bell?

What?

You break his nose?

They had to reset his jaw?

What?

Bringing you
the new Pegasus juicer.

My juicer will knock
your taste buds out.

Where's the remote?

The remote?

-Where is it?
-Sorry.

Look in the cushions.

-Found it.
-Give it to me.

Guy's a fucking disgrace.

That why you got him up
on your wall?

The fuck you just
say?

You two fought, right?

Who are you,
Woodward and Bernstein?

I said you could stay here,
not interrogate me.

Mom bought us one of those.

These juicer, they fucking suck.

They can't even juice a banana.

Juice a banana?

That's what it says
in the commercial.

Un-fucking believable.

Yeah, mom and Carol
said they wanted to lose

some weight,
but we just wound up drinking

extra juice for a month,

and I'm pretty sure
we all gained weight,

especially Carol.

Carol's fat now, huh?

I don't know about fat,

just kinda,
kinda thick all over.

First it was skinny black dudes,
now it's thick white women.

She's a tough one to please,
your mom.

Is this a trap?

Guess you'll have to find out.

I see why you have this thing,
it's fucking fun.

No wonder there's so many
school shootings.

This game is hard as shit.

How do you even reload?

Get over here and show me.

-You're out of beer.
-Forget the beer.

Show me.

Hey.

I said you're out of booze.

I heard you.

We'll make a run in the morning.

Fucking show me.

Bottom button, huh?

Fucking g--

Phone's dead.

What?

Sit up.

Put your hands up.

Why?

Because I got a game.

What's it called?

It's called,
"Put your fucking hands up".

What the fuck is this?

Square up.

Now, why'd you come here?

I don't get it.

Don't be shy.

I know it's you who wanted
to come here.

What do you want from me?

So that's it.

Well, you've come to
the right place, Jobs.

Two dumpy broads up your ass,
a father in jail.

I'd like getting hit, too.

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah.

I've tried that.

It doesn't work.

Now.

I want you to hit your grandpa.

It'll make you feel better.

Go on.

That's why you came here, too,
isn't it?

You want to blame me
for everything?

I don't want to
fucking hurt you.

Try me.

Come on.

This isn't
a fucking school yard.

I said hit your grandpa.

Snap it.

Snap it. Like this.

Like a piston.

Now that's how you hit
your grandpa.

Put your hands up again.

Now this time, close 'em.

Go on.

Do it.

Now hit me.

Jobs!

Son of a bitch!

- Hi, you've reached
- Eton's executive--

Goddammit.

So, I'll say it again.

The poor have hope
and injustice shuts its mouth.

Message seems pretty clear
to me.

Sounds like God doesn't
appreciate these iniquitous men.

These cowards, bullies
picking on the poor.

Not one bit.

As we do every week, we'll open
up our discussion

to tonight's guest, former
Featherweight champion

and Detroit's mayoral
candidate,

Mr. Darnell Washington.

Welcome to the show.

- Oh, it's good to be here,
- Pastor.

So how do you interpret
what Eliphaz is saying to Job?

Well, I believe God
was reminding Job

that no affliction comes to us
by chance.

What!

Sir, can you roll down
the window

and kill the engine, please?

Where are you headed tonight?

Couldn't sleep.

Thought I'd take a Sunday drive.

Well, it's a Wednesday, sir.

Is that right?

Are you intoxicated?

I'm not.

Why'd you pull me over?

Well, one, your taillight's out,
and two, your seatbelt.

May I see your license, please?

Lost my grandson.

- You lost him?
- Yeah.

About 6 feet, half white,
likes to beat on his grandpa.

You really don't recognize me?

I don't think so.

What's your name?

Officer Flores.

What is that, Polish?

Let's try this again.

License and registration,
please.

Not a boxing fan, huh?

I've fought a few Latinos
in my day.

Maybe you're related
to one of 'em.

Rozyski. Wow.

Yep.

I've heard of you.

But uh, this is from 1998.

You got anything more recent?

I might be able to scrounge
a few tapes from the '80s.

You like Mellencamp?

I could've walked home,
you know.

So you're a pony car guy, huh?

What?

The Trans Am.

I was gifted that car
by a Detroit legend.

The Silver Bullet himself.

Seger?

Bob?

There's nothing like
Detroit muscle.

Uh, you know Trans Ams
are made in Ohio?

Wherever it was made,
I don't want any dings on it.

Or homeless fuckers sleeping
in it.

Getting hand jobs, squirting
their DNA all over the leather.

Which absorbs, by the way.

I think you'll be alright,
just as long as you show up

with someone who has a valid ID
when you pick it up.

You're awful chipper for a cop.

Well, being nasty's overrated.

Your grandson,
does he live with you?

Apparently.

And the bruise?

His mother's an angry lesbian
and his father's in jail.

I'm teaching him
to fend for himself.

So he ran away?

It was more of a jog.

Has he done that before?

In the one day
he's been living with me?

No.

What can I say?

The kid's confused.

I know a lot of confused kids

who don't run
from their guardians.

Yeah, well,
I'm very proud of you.

Does he have a girlfriend?

A job?

I'm thinking.

Anyone he's pissed off?

Something about a pit.

Huh?

His mother mentioned
some place he goes for work.

Durban Pit?

I don't know, maybe.

I'll be right there.

No, I'll come with you.

No.

If he sees you, he might run.

Okay, Rozyski.

Five minutes.

Hey, can one of you guys grab
some water from the trailer

when you're done?

Yeah.

Ah, it's a super heavy
piece of wood.

Can I help you?

What is this, some kind of cult?

No, it's just--
it's a clean-up crew.

We clean up the city
where it's needed.

-But uh, listen--
-Jobs.

Come on, let's go.

I'm taking you home.

Jess, you know this guy?

Yeah, that's my grandfather.

Oh.

I guess you'll just
make up the hours then.

What are you doing?

-What?
-Get your money.

Pay the kid his scratch.

That's not how this works.

Community service, my ass.

Somebody's getting paid
off this shit.

I mean, we--
we got free sandwiches.

You want a sandwich?

-Soda?
-So what?

You lure 'em in with free food,
then you try and fuck 'em?

- What are you talking about?
- It's fine.

Hey, I was only here a few
hours. It's okay. Let's go.

I said pay my grandson
before I tune you up.

Okay.

Can somebody explain to him
how community service works,

because he's not getting--

How about I make you my personal
fart catcher instead.

Alright. Hey, whoa.

You don't need to start pushing.

Just stop it. Alright?

You don't need to start pushing!

I said stop!

That's what you want?

You want more?

What are you doing?

Let's get the fuck out of here.

Justin, dude.

Justin!

What the fuck?

I thought I told you
not to run away

without telling me
where you're going.

No, you didn't.

Who are those lowlifes anyway?

They're not lowlifes.

They're people who are cleaning
up the city you live in.

Today they are.

Tomorrow they'll be
knocking over a white castle.

And why am I in a cop car?

This is Officer Flores.

She's very concerned
about your welfare.

She'll be taking care of you
from now on.

What?

You know, your grandfather
was driving around

looking for you
with an expired license.

Did you hear me asking
for your help back there?

Volunteer work.

My father would've kicked
the teeth out of my head

working for free like that.

You should be saving yourself,
not this fuckin' town.

Vicodin, for my hips.

What the f--

Average human head weighs

between 10 and 12 pounds,
but not yours.

Yours must weigh at least 14.

It's not gigantism,
that's for sure.

But it does mean
you have a strong neck.

That drop eye, how much can you
see out of it?

I don't know, like 50%.

Pittsburgh Windmill.

Huh?

Get dressed.

What the fuck?

Who lives here?

This house was built
by John Eton I.

A merchant marine who married
a Portuguese woman from,

well, Portugal.

They spawned John Eton II,

who was born severely retarded
and died young.

After that,
they had John Eton III.

And that's who lives here now.

John may seem retarded,
but he's not.

Eton's a royalty.

Royalty?

Boxing royalty.

His granddaddy's first gym
burnt to the ground,

so he decided to build the
second one closer to home.

I don't-- I don't get it,
you planning on

making a comeback?

No.

We're here for you.

I've never trained
anyone before.

Never wanted to.

Not until I saw you crank that
chowderhead's neck

down at the site.

I wore these when I knocked out
Washington.

See, all that wrestling and MMA
bullshit may be fine and good,

sitting on each other's faces,
but it won't help you

in a real fight.

Don't believe me?

Try sniffing some guy's crotch
on the street

and see where it gets you.

It's written
all over your face, Jobs.

Swimming around in your DNA.

You don't have to tell me what
you're thinking,

'cause I already know.

Know what?

You want to learn.

Fight.

No, I don't.

It's natural to be scared.

I'm not scared,
I just don't want to.

Alright, you little prick.

Then we'll just tell your mom
how you choked out your boss.

I was helping you.

I don't think
she'll see it that way.

Not after everything
you've put her through.

Are you serious?

My house.

My rules.

Besides, it'll be good for you.

Teach you shit.

Fuck this.

I care about this city, too,
you know.

It might not look like it,
but I do.

And I'm tired of seeing it
corrupted by liars and thieves.

If you want to be
a good Samaritan,

make things better,
then you're gonna need money

or respect.

And right now,
you've got fuck all.

How's fighting gonna
change that?

Already did.

The moment you slept that
neckbone down at the site,

you copped yourself respect
from him

and all the other chumps
watching.

See, this could be the answer
to your little conundrum.

You win a few fights, you can
actually make a difference.

Shit, you can even buy a house
for your mom while you're at it.

By the time I was 19,
I had 75 grand

in Detroit National
from fighting,

and nobody could tell me dick.

Not my parents, not anyone.

And pussy?

I was fucking drowning in it.

And not gutter slugs either,
but top drawer.

In every shape and color.

A fucking kaleidoscope
of top drawer pussy.

What if I'm no good?

Impossible.

What about community service,
though?

It won't get in the way,
I promise.

Sure, fine, whatever.

You're making your grandpa
very happy, Jobs.

Bringing pride back
to the Rozyski name.

My last name's Thompson.

Doesn't matter.

Now, first order of business.

You got your learner's permit?

This thing drives funny.

That's what luxury feels like.

When you turn pro, you'll be
able to buy yourself

a whole fleet of these with
the scratch you'll be making.

They don't make cars
like this anymore.

You're preaching to the choir.

Factories in this town
used to be bustling.

Cranked-out cars hand over fist.

Not this one.

Trans Ams were made in Ohio.

I know the stories.

I grew up here.

You grew up in war-torn Berlin.

I'm talking about Mecca.

Before it all went to shit.

I'd take a fight at The Garden
and be on a plane

that night just to be
back here to celebrate.

New York was a dry hump
compared to Detroit.

The city took care of its own.

Not anymore.

I thought we were
gonna start training.

What the fuck do you think
we're doing?

Pull up to this idiot over here.

Speak of the devil.

We were just at your place.

Called you earlier, too.

Needed a ride.

Uh, sorry.

You know, between
the rally and the prom, I, uh,

you know, I haven't had a break.

Shuttling people all--
you know, non-stop.

Looks like you got
yourself a ride, though.

It's my grandson, Justin.

I know the guy.
I know him.

I know who it is.

How's it going, Justin?

We're gonna be spending
some time at your place

this week.

Could use your help.

Yeah. Yeah.

Sure thing, Bang.

Hey, uh, give me a jump here.

We're on a schedule.

Answer your fucking phone
next time, will ya?

Come on. Let's go.

Drive.

Kind of hungry.

Yeah. You know what?

I'm a little peckish myself.

Hang a left at this light.

This looks perfect.

Best patty melt in town.

Grab a table.

Pigeon foot in an Edsel.

So that was you
creeping around yesterday.

I don't know what
you're talking about.

You look good.

What's with the head wrap?

Leftovers from my last round
of chemo.

Jesus.

What is it with this city?

The whole damn place
is crumbling.

Said by the dusty motherfucker
who just hobbled into my bar.

Sorry.

For what?

You didn't give it to me.

Y'all men act like you
the only motherfuckers

in this city that still
got a fight in them.

You still singing?

Damn straight.

Every day but Sunday.

I'd like to see that.

I bet you would.

I'm serious.

So, what brings you
out of hiding?

I know it ain't
for no damn patty melt.

My grandson, Justin.

Kid wants to fight.

Say hi to Sharon, Jobs.

Hi.

You want a patty melt, hon?

Yes, please.

Kid's a little soft
around the edges,

but he's got
some real heavy hands.

Well, if he's any relation
to you, I'm sure he does.

What?

Nothing.

Let me just put this
order in for the boy.

I'm serious.

I want to hear you sing.

Well, if you keep creeping
around, you just might.

What's the verdict?

Better than
your ketchup sandwich?

Is it?

Rozyski, right?

Yeah.

I thought you were dead
or had dementia or something.

Hey, was it you

or your twin brother
that fought Caswell in '87?

Me.

Yeah, that's the first time
I ever saw a guy get

knocked out in the ring.

Just so happens
he was my cousin.

Oh, yeah?

How is Charlie these days?

Been dead a while.

We found him out of meringue
with two bullets in his head.

Police called it a suicide.

I'm sorry to hear that.

He was a good fighter.

He's a gatekeeper
and you know it.

Come on.

Now you see why
I don't leave the house.

You have a brother?

Hasn't been around for a while.

What's that mean?

It means what I fucking said.

What's a gatekeeper?

Glorified punching bag.

The guy you beat to establish
yourself as a contender.

Where to now?

Get over here.

Tell me when you lose my finger.

Now.

Every fighter has a weakness.

That's yours.

Let's get the fuck out of here.

Unlock it.

That's it.

Jab out.

Tuck it.

Tuck it.

I want to see you looking
through that brow

like a cyclops.

Watch your elbows.

Pinch 'em in.

They're flaring.

It's wasted energy.

First your elbows go,
then your shoulders get tired.

The next thing you know,
you're on the canvas looking up.

Always train like you fight,
Jobs.

Where do you think you're going?

I'm gonna be late for work.

Dylan's picking me up.

You owe me one more good round.

Can you believe this kid?

Cleans up houses for free
and calls it work.

Houses that were burnt down
by the people who lived in 'em.

Back in the day,
we had a name for that.

Called it, "Jewish Lightning".

Right, Johnny?

Talent alone ain't gonna
buy your mom a house, Jobs.

If you're not careful,
you'll end up

burning down your own one day.

There's that nasty boy.

You think you're getting
under my skin, but really,

I just feel bad for you.

Ooh, looks like the daffodil
has some venom.

Give John one more good round,

then you can get back
to your city planning.

Where are you going?

I'm gonna go chop a log.

Be right back.

One more good rounds.

Where's Justin?

I haven't seen you
since our little dust-up.

Thought I'd say hello.

How's the neck?

It's good.

Better.

You know, we talked it out.

I told him I probably would
have done the same thing.

Good.

'Cause for whatever
weird reason,

he looks up to you.

Well, he's a good kid.

Yeah, he is.

But uh, the more you push him,
the more likely he is to run.

His father was the same way.

Couldn't take his mom riding
him anymore, so he ended up

knocking over a package store
just to get a break.

Thought his dad was a junkie.

Better than telling him
his father took

a cinderblock vacation
by choice, no?

The point is, he's not gonna be
hauling junk forever.

So if he misses a few asbestos
sessions with you,

let's not sweat it.

All that matters is he's found
purpose in something he loves.

Glad we had this little talk.

He'll be down in a minute.

Fucking asshole.

So, how's it going there?

It's going great.

John's over.

We're watching TV.

How's the job?

Uh, it's getting better.

I may have a lead on a place,

but I might not be able to
get back as soon as I hoped.

Don't worry about it.

Really?

Yeah, it's fine.

So, um, how's Jess?

Uh, he says you've been taking
him to John's to work out.

He told you about that?

What else did he say?

Nothing, just that
you're getting along.

Like Ebony and Ivory.

Are you sure?

Yeah, I'm telling you,
he's doing great.

Community service, a little
exercise, the whole nine yards.

That's really nice.

Hey, hey, hey.

What are you doing?
Don't do that.

I'm fine.

I'm just-- I'm happy that
you're spending time together.

Yeah, me too.

Okay, well, um,
I should get back.

Uh, give my love to Jess.

Will do.

And hey, Jen.

What?

I'm proud of you.

Fuck, damn it.

Better go down and stomp out
the fire under that man.

This guy kind of reminds me
of you.

Hip's feeling better, huh?

What's that supposed to mean?

You're not using
the chair anymore.

I only need it for flare-ups,
you know that.

Oh, yeah, the flare-ups,
that's-- that's-- that's right.

Kid's doing good, huh?

Real good, real good.

He's got pop you can't teach.

Even with the pads,
my ribs are killing me.

Yeah, his footwork's sloppy.

Southpaw would eat him alive.

He's like a young Ken Norton,
huh?

I'm not joking.

If he's gonna fight,
we gotta keep him honest.

Well, what has he got like,
two and a half weeks

under his belt?

Pops threw me in the ring
after a week.

Same with my brother.

Kid's gotta get his dick wet
sooner or later.

Besides, I want to get him
up and running

before his mom comes back
and has a conniption fit.

What's the best gym these days?

Well, you got uh, Butzel's.

You got Drexel's.

You got Sal's and Pontiac.

I asked for the best,
not the fuckin' Yellow Pages.

Well, the best is Drexel's, but.

But what?

It's-- it's Washington's place.

Eddie Perkins runs it.

Railroad Eton back on the trail.

I haven't heard that in a while.

It's a terrible nickname
for a fighter.

You wanna know where
that name comes from?

That's my grandmother
literally laying track

during the war while
the men were off fightin'.

It's sentimental.

You can't go in the ring
with a moniker like that.

Might as well be fightin'
with a pacifier in your mouth.

I always liked it.

Well, your record didn't.

That's right.

You were always a fighter.

That's right.

You know, I asked around.

It sounds like your grandpa
was hot shit back in the day.

That's what he says.

He said you're pretty good, too.

I'm alright.

-You like it?
-Yeah.

Everything except the road work.

I hate running, but--

Yeah, I like it, though.

Like, once you learn all
the combinations and everything,

it's just like any other game.

Bank says I can make
some real money.

Maybe buy my mom a house.

What?

You don't think I can?

I didn't say that.

I just think maybe, you know,

might be good to get
a fight under your belt

before you start talking about
buying houses.

That's just me.

You know, I could have
taken you both that day, right?

Because you're what? 5'6".

He's 4'3".

I'm just saying.

No, I got hands.

You sure about this?

Yeah, I'm fucking sure.

Sure about this.

What the hell took him so long?

Sorry, I kept
running into people.

Jesus, how'd it go?

Eddie says
he knows just the guy.

Welterweight?

Yeah, Welterweight.

And you saw him?

How'd he look?

He pointed him out, but
I didn't get a good look.

Dodgy motherfuckers.

I knew they'd take the fight.

Nothing's changed.

Green's still green.

When do they want it to happen?

Two weeks from Sunday.

It's an exhibition card.

And he'll be there?

Who, the kid?

Washington.

Oh, yeah.

It's his charity.

Okay, Mr. Charity.

Mayor, my ass.

Thank you.

Prick's still hard as rock.

Mm-hmm. I'm sure it is.

I'm serious.

What's on your mind?

The only thing on my mind

other than that kid boxing,
is you.

Mm. You need to stop.

You don't want me
thinking about you?

Man comes out of the woodwork
acting like you is,

makes the woman feel like
there's a cause for concern.

That's the motor city
in you talking.

Always waiting for
the other shoe to drop.

I mean, I am as positive
as they come.

Even after they took my girls
right here.

Still kept my shit together.

I can't be happy, too.

I'm all for it, as long as
that's what it is.

Look at you,
pushing all my buttons.

What can I say?

They ain't hard to find.

You should cut another album.

You do remember the disaster
that was my first album.

I never should've been
in the studio.

I was keyed out of my mind.

Mull it over.

That's all I'm saying.

Let's get some sleep.

Imagine waking up
on Christmas morning being told

there will be no presents
under the tree.

Because Santa's in the slammer
for tax evasion.

That's how-- that's how
betrayed the fans were.

It's like Jake LaMotta
and the mob.

It's like uh,
resto and the pads.

This was their haggler.

Your grandfather wanted to,

he wanted that Washington fight
more than anything.

He would have given away half

his purse if he'd had to,
he would have fought for free.

So it wasn't his fault.

When people look at you

with that flop eye,
they see someone who's pliable,

easy, but when he sees you,
he sees King Mongkut,

you know the fourth monarch
of Siam.

The nobleman wanted
a puppet ruler,

someone they could push around.

King Mongkut
modernized his society.

He preserved
his people's independence.

He was the most
underrated ruler in history.

What are you doing?

How does he live with himself?

Here we go.

Others may have forgotten
what he did, but I haven't.

He got banned from the sport.

At least,
you got to keep fighting.

That's not the point.

Look, we get to choose
a lot of things in life,

but family and cancer
ain't one of 'em.

Hey, you got that right.

Where you going?

I can't sleep.

Especially, not with
that photo staring at me.

I'll put it in the drawer.

Doesn't matter where you put it.

It'll just pop up
somewhere else.

Look at you all hot and bothered
like a $2 pistol.

You fuck like one, too.

I didn't hear you complaining.

You ever think about
why he threw that fight?

If he threw it?

Let's not do this.

Why don't you just talk to him?

Man to man.

I'm just saying.

You sang great tonight.

Getting your road work
in early?

Couldn't sleep.

Tell me about it.

Had a nightmare.

Oh, yeah?

That guy beat me to death.

Pounded my body with a canvas.

Only thing left were my eyes.

Well, I'm no Freud,

but it sounds to me like
you're jonesing for a fight.

What, you don't think
I'll end up a vegetable?

Who said anything about that?

Anyway, you've only got
two more weeks to worry.

That's right.

I got you a fight.

Three-rounder on a charity card.

Nothing crazy.

Who's the guy?

Who cares?

He's a rube like you.

Pick up your feet.

You're dragging.

Pound it.

Pound it.

That's right.

Body shots are like cheap wine.

They always catch up with you.

Burn the ships.

Burn the ships.

We're not going home.

Burn the fucking ships.

Wait, you're not coming.

I ain't your arm candy.

What?

You don't want your cousin
seeing us together?

Well, that's a reason.

Are you serious?

You couldn't have told me
this earlier?

Earlier,
I wasn't feeling that way.

Sitting here now, I do.

Oh, come on.

I don't need this shit
right now.

Alright, fine.

But how about after this win,
I buy you a steak dinner?

I'm off red meat.

What's up, Bang?

What is this?

The fucking green room
at Caroline's?

Get the fuck out of here.

No, let's--

Girls, let's go.

Alright. I just saw your guy.

He's taller than you.

Longer reach, too.

Where were you?

Are your fucking ears broken?

I just told you
I was scouting your guy.

Get up.

Now, listen.

Since he's taller than you,
you can't let him dictate range.

You go back in a straight line,
he'll tag you.

The way you counter that is
by always moving side to side.

The best way to cut off his
range is to get right up on him.

Use those heavy hands of yours.

Bang, bang.

Bang, bang.

Bang, bang.

- Come on.
- Get off the rope.

That's it.

Get inside. Heavy hands.

Yeah, yeah.

Hit that motherfucker.

Mull him.

Mull him, Jobs.

There you go.

You can't live on the ropes.

Yo, Juice Meister, don't be
spending my charity money

just yet.

Come on up, Bang.

It's the last round.

-How are you feeling?
-Feel good.

I feel good.

Well, your feelings were wrong.

Judges have it even.

What? You thought this was gonna
be a fair fight?

Look around.

You're in
the fucking lion's den.

These people don't
want you to win.

They're all team Washington.

Hey, man.
Watch your headbutts, alright?

I'll warn both of you.

See, even this blowhard's

doing his best to try
and fuck you.

But I'm winning.

He's gas.

Maybe in the ring, but not
out there where it counts.

You see that guy?

He's with USA Boxing.

Likes what he sees.

But if you lose this round,
he'll walk the fuck out of here.

Now, I want you to open up
on this neck bone.

Forget the body and knock
this motherfucker out.

Don't leave these crooks
willing to screw you.

Grow those hands, Jobsy!

Burn the ships!

Look at those feet.

What's he doing?

He's just toying with him.

Watch.

That's it.

Attaboy!

Stop dancing with him
and put that fire out.

Grow those hands! That's it.

Come on, Jobsy!

Get the medic in here.

Lung sounds are clear
and present bilaterally.

Heart sounds good.

Motherfucker!

Shit, bang your hand.

Forget the hand.

What did the doctor say?

Not much.

You know, he thinks the headgear
might have had something

to do with it.

You know, the extra torque
or whatever.

I was fucking there!

I don't need a play-by-play.

Will he walk again?

Be able to wipe his own ass?

He thinks he'll recover.

That's what it sounded like.

He said the seizure probably
came from the concussion.

Well, there you go.

Yeah, he wants to keep him
for a day or two.

Monitor him.

Monitor him.

That's hospital speak
for bleed you dry.

Hey, is he gonna be okay?

Fucking guy.

Kid was a fucking ringer.

I know it.

You just need to be happy
that the boy's alright.

You do know that I'm trying
to beat cancer, right?

Right, the chemo. You said.

No, no, not just the chemo.

With every fucking ounce of me.

I'm sorry, Shar.

Come on.

Let's go in.

I don't want to.

Kid's sleeping anyway.

Be better that way.

You'll be there
when he wakes up.

Just do the right thing.

I am.

What, you just gonna leave?

Boy just got his bell rung.

He ain't dying.

Where are you going?

Home.

Wait, when do we come in?

There you go.

No, wait, wait.

- Did you--
- I feel like the chords keep

- changing every time.
- Uh-uh.

That sounds good.

- Does it?
- Yeah.

Okay, let's start again.

Yeah, okay, I'm okay.

Go.

Did you invite anybody, or?

- Okay.
- No.

Sounds great, though.

-Can I help you?
-Yeah.

I was uh,
just in the neighborhood.

I used to live here.

In this house.

Oh, cool.

You mind if I come in?

Uh.

I'm sure that's cool.

I mean I just gotta
ask my roommates.

Thanks.

Yeah, fuck it. Yeah, come in.

Marcus, come on, let's go.

You have to be playing.

Oh, we got-- we have a guest.

Can I get you a drink?

Sure. I could use a drop.

Thanks for the toot.

I like what you've done
with the place.

Yeah.

Still kind of moving in.

So, uh, how'd you get the name
Bang Bang?

Punching people.

So you were a fighter?

Something like that.

Were you any good?

Bought this house
with my second big purse.

Now all I got

is that car outside
and a half-finished kitchen.

I thought boxers retired rich.

I think you mean incarcerated.

Most of the fighters I know
are either dead or on welfare,

wishing they were dead.

What about you?

I'm rich in a lot of things,
but money

and happiness ain't one of 'em.

You guys mind if I look around?

No. Not at all.

Go for it.

But I'm seeing two
Rozyskis here.

Is it Bernard or Bobby?

Try Bernard.

Holy shit.

Here he is.

Bernard Bang Bang Rozyski
or the Bang Bang,

is an American professional
boxer, a featherweight,

who held a professional
record of 42-6-2,

was known for his wild
and abrasive personality

in and outside of the ring.

Bang Bang quickly
became a fan favorite for

his languid loopy punches
and sloppy footwork.

Look at this dude.
He's a fucking pimp.

Let me see.

Holy shit, that's crazy.

Damn, he's been married
like three times.

So what are you up to?

Oh, it's okay.

I'd snoop too
if I used to live here.

My daughter, she scratched
something in the frame.

Oh yeah?

The R House.

Yeah, I saw that
when I moved in.

I thought it was cool,
so I kept it there.

That's really sweet.

She's probably cursing my name
as we speak.

Bad dad?

Something like that.

I got her son hurt
in a fight today.

Is that what you do now?

Train people?

Uh, is he okay?

Who?

Your grandson.

I think so.

He's still in the hospital.

My mom and I have
a complex relationship, too.

She's a shrink.

Maybe I could use
one of those myself.

Well, you don't want her.

She can barely
take care of herself.

She's a low-key hoarder.

Uh-huh.

Wikipedia said you were
kicked out of boxing.

Not exactly, but I might
as well have been.

That sucks.

Sorry.

So you like living here?

Yeah, I do.

It's got good mojo.

It's better than my mom's.

We have a spare bedroom if you
want to crash or something.

Nah, I'm good, thanks.

You know what?

I'm just gonna give you a minute
to look around, do your thing.

That's very nice of you.

Yeah.

Take your time.

Put that motherfucker
on the phone.

Kid awake yet?

No, but his mom just got here.

I don't know
what you were thinking.

But in case you were planning
on coming back this way--

- John!
- Give me the fucking phone.

She's pretty upset.

When I see him--

You still there?

Yeah.

Thanks for the heads up.

You cocksuck--

"I'm not the one I was.

I'm not the one I am.

I'm neither here nor there.

I live between water and air.

Bit by bit.

I live in fire.

My eyes burnt.

My lips burnt.

Burnt are these words.

He who whispered these words
lies in an open coffin.

Framing the framed sky
passes by."

Fucking poetry, man.

So what'd you get, Bang?

- Me?
- Yeah.

Sounds like someone's so fucked
they can't get out of bed.

He's not wrong.

You know his parents and sister
died in the Holocaust.

And later on, his wife
died in a car accident.

And he wrote that while he was
recovering from his injuries.

So, spot on.

You know what goes good
with poetry?

- What?
- What?

More blow.

Let's go.

Hey, you know who loved boxing?

What?

I said,
you know who loved boxing?

Who?

Fucking Allen Ginsberg.

Really?

I smoked dust with him
in the basement of

Boston Garden after I fought
Cheeto Rojas in '87.

That's amazing.

What?

I said that's amazing.

It fucking was.

To be honest, I'm more
of a Hettie Jones fan.

Great fighter.

Are you okay?

Why didn't you do it?

Oh, fuck?

What?

Off yourself.

Where'd you get that?

Uh, it was in your jacket.

Have you been walking
around with this since I left?

It's registered.

So, coke and booze weren't
enough for you

to pull the trigger,

so you figured, what, you'd
fuck up my son's life, too?

What do you want from me?

I saw he had potential.

So you got him knocked out?

John told me the whole thing.

He was doing good
until you fucked him up.

Ah, come on, Jen.

He had to go for it.

He was gonna lose.

Bullshit.

Say what you want.

You weren't there.

No.

No, I wasn't.

I was sweating my fucking tits
off on the line

under the illusion that my son
would be safe

with his crackpot grandfather.

A lot safer than hanging out
in crumbling houses,

that's for sure.

Oh, that's what this is about.

Dylan?

You don't like him.

Because you can't push him
around like John.

You don't know what
you're talking about.

Oh, the fuck I don't.

Your only real friend
is a drunk.

And you can't stand anyone
succeeding besides yourself,

so you do the next best thing.

You get him knocked out.

Ah, bullshit.

Did the same
with my writing lessons.

You hated that I was good at it,
so you took it away.

Instructor said
your weight was an issue.

Fuck you.

You're beating on me
like the kid

didn't have a choice
in the matter.

All I did was present
an alternative and he took it.

I'm sorry he got tagged,
but he did.

It's what happens
when you fight.

He's a smart kid.

He'll bounce back.

I'll talk to him.

-You'll see.
-Oh, no you won't.

Mm-mm.

You know, I asked him
why he wanted to fight.

And he said, because he could
make money doing it.

And I don't want him thinking
that the only way out

is through fucking boxing!

Do you understand?

Now you leave us alone.

You leave us the fuck alone.

Doctor says your heart's fine,
just severely dehydrated.

I'm gonna catch legionnaires
in this fucking place.

Jen gave you the business, huh?

She was civil enough.

What the fuck is this?

Darnell said, "Keep it."

He said they already have
enough charity money,

no need stealing from the poor.

He said, "Give it to Bang.

Tell him it's for Bobby.

Tell him I'm sorry."

Grab my fucking shit.

Dear Jobs,
hope you got some sleep.

If you don't know by now,
you got knocked the fuck out.

Don't feel bad.

Every fighter does.

Just not me.

Who knows, maybe your
droopy eye got in the way.

"Or maybe that growl kid
was just better than you.

The point is,
you looked good out there.

Until you didn't.

Anyway, I know
your mother hates me.

Hopefully, you don't.

Bang."

Here.

I gave the other half to Jobs.

Take it.

I'm good, Bang.

It's all yours.

Take Nance to the rattlesnake.

- Live it up.
- Seriously.

Get her that fucking facelift
she's always talking about.

I already did.

Then take her to Greektown
to show it off!

Just take it!

I didn't know
she had the procedure.

You should have told me.

You should have asked.

You're right. I'm sorry.

What are you gonna do now?

Got a few airport pickups,
that's about it.

Probably go home afterward,
go to sleep, you?

People actually take a limo home
from the airport.

Yeah, sometimes.

Especially, the rich ones.

We used to, right?

You ever pick up
Washington in this thing?

Nah.

Never.

Where you headed?

I don't know.

Might swing by Grosse Pointe.

Take it easy.

You don't want
another heart attack.

I'm looking for my car keys.

Besides, my ticker's fine.

It's just a little dehydrated.

Jesus.

Oh, yeah.

We weren't sure if you were
gonna live,

so we made you an altar.

This supposed to be me?

Well, we tried, but,
I mean, hey, it worked, right?

Oh, the keys, I got 'em.

Here.

Thanks.

You mind?

Sure, go ahead.

But if you pass out,
I don't know if we're gonna do

the whole hospital thing again.

Whoa.

You got any need for this?

For like,
protection or whatever?

Nope.

I think we're good.

You sure?

Promise.

Adios.

Fuck me!

Fuck me!

Excuse me.

Ah, ah, I go there, too.

Rozyski.

Bang Bang.

And on the uh, 6th

you're also hosting a lunch
at Martin Luther King.

I don't understand
how I'm supposed

to be in two places
at the same time.

Sir, we're just gonna have
to deal with it.

You know, we didn't anticipate
this kind of drop in the poll,

so--

Let me call you back.

Yeah, but call--

You hear that?

They know who the best is now,
baby.

We came here,
did what we had to do.

Trained for a hard fight.

We left nothing on the canvas,
no excuses.

Washington came to fight
and I beat his ass.

My wife keeps that there
for prospective voters.

Listen, there-- there was a lot
of animosity leading up to

this fight, because of
what he did to your brother.

For Bobby, yeah, there was
a lot of animosity about Bobby.

If he wants to run it back,
we can run it back again,

and I'll hand him another beat.

This one means a lot more to me
than any of my other fights,

'cause I'm
Featherweight champ now!

-Drink?
-No, thanks.

Well, you're trying
to stay fit, huh?

I still drink, trust me.

So what are you walking
around at these days?

Fighting weight.

Okay.

Have a seat.

I didn't realize
you were so dedicated.

Yeah, I lead a service
every Sunday

at Little Rock Baptist Church,
man.

We try to keep it lively.

You should come through.

I think I'll pass.

I have to ask, man,
what's with the hospital gown?

Does it matter?

No.

So, to what do I owe
the pleasure, Bang?

Not entirely sure.

Better than the alternative,
I guess.

So why don't you start
with that?

I was gonna shoot you.

Can't even juice a banana.

What was that?

I said that's an awful lot
of juicers.

Yeah, God bless.

Yeah, campaigning ain't cheap,
man.

So, uh,
so you're a trainer now, huh?

No.

It wasn't for me.

What? Just one time?

-That's it?
-I fought.

That's what I was good at.

You took a fix
that fucked my life.

Fucked your life?

And what about the padding
they said was

missing from your gloves
when you fought Bobby?

Padding and the gloves.

Have you ever thought that
maybe it was the padding

in your fucking head?

I'm sorry I didn't have
a million-dollar idea to

fall back on when my career
in cheating was over.

How much money you think
I made from our fight?

Ain't what paid for this house.

And it ain't what sent
my daughters through college.

And it sure as hell didn't
come close to the money

I made at the plant
years after I left boxing.

So, when you want to talk
about a fix,

you should think twice.

So you admit it?

I ain't admitting shit.

You're sitting in my house.

The house that juicer bought.

Well, it sure didn't go
into my pocket.

Or my family's.

And it sure as shit
didn't go into Bobby's.

You gambled on our livelihood.

You know the difference
between me and you?

You believed that that
ring made you immortal.

Heck, Ali thought the same thing
and we all know how that ended.

You know the people
who make our sport heroic

are the journalists.

I mean, yeah, you know what?

What we do?

Yeah. Okay?

That was work.

But there was always
some type of manipulation.

Always some kind of fix.

I mean, who's to say that Ray
didn't cut a deal

to make our card happen sooner?

Right? Because of what happened
to your brother.

What the fuck
are you talking about?

I'm talking about you, Bang.

I'm talking about the pride
of Poland.

Bernard Bang Bang Rozyski
fighting

Darnell the Destroyer
Washington.

Four months after your brother,
excuse the expression,

ended up a vegetable
going 12 rounds with me.

You don't think Ray and Sal
knew the city wanted

to see us fight?

You don't think they wanted to
see the brother of Bobby Rozyski

step up and beat the black man
that put his brother in a chair?

I would have fought you anyway.

That's not the point.

What is the point?

Ray, Sal, Detroit, man,

they needed our fight
to happen then.

John Angelino.

Uh, Morris Johnson.

Both of those dudes
were in line ahead of you.

And plenty of others, too.

But along comes your brother,
this gatekeeper.

Sorry, journeyman.

They told me he was
gonna be a cakewalk.

A pothole on the way
to the promised land.

But they were wrong, Bang.

He fought like
a goddamn mercenary.

I couldn't believe it.

I thought I was gonna
lose that fight.

But I didn't.

These stories don't
write themselves, Bang.

People do.

The city wanted to see us fight,
because it was heroic.

I wish somebody would have
paid your brother to take

a dive, man, so I wouldn't
have to hit him so many times.

It's not my fault
your brother had a great chin

and it's not yours either.

Turtle.

Sorry?

That's what we called him
behind his back.

'Cause he wouldn't stick
his neck back in his shell.

Bobby always led with his chin.

My father tried to change it.

And he sure
wouldn't listen to me.

I think he liked getting hit.

I think he was laughing
the whole time.

Laughing at everyone
who counted him out.

Laughing at everyone who thought
they could knock his block off.

I bet if he could talk,
he'd tell you himself.

Shit.

I bet he's laughing right now.

Yeah.

What do you think?

It's no pigeon foot,
but it'll do.

That bottle was designed by
a famous sculptor

in France, man.

I can't uh-- I can't speak
on the quality

of what's inside of it,
but damn, for a $1000 a pop,

it should be as good as,
you know,

anything I've had bef--

What the fuck are you doing?

Darnell?

Is everything okay?

No, no, we're good.

We're just talking.

Doesn't look like
you're just talking.

Look, I promise.

We're just talking.

I'll be out in a few.

Are we good?

I said, are we good?

Hmm.

You really want to kill me?

You know, I really hope you find
what you're looking for, Bang.

If that feeling of doubt
washes over you about

our fight or my integrity,
you know where to find me.

We can throw hands
any time you want.

You heard that dinner bell ring
in your head, huh?

Do me a favor.

Close that door.

No witnesses?

No, it's not about witnesses.

It's just about protecting
the sanctity of a man's home.

Like this.

Yeah, that one
has mustard on it, huh?

Fucking house!

Tanya!

What you looking at, sweetheart?

Come here, come here,
come here.

It's a lot different
with no Vaseline.

What the hell
are you guys thinking?

Tanya is out there
crying her eyes out.

I'd say we got about a minute
to finish this thing

before they call in the cow.

Bang, Bang, I'm not playing.

You better open
this goddamn door.

Really?

Unlock the door.

Y'all better stop.

You're gonna kill each other.

What's wrong?

They're in there fighting.

- Who?
- Darnell and Bang.

What the?

Now just get that first-aid kit,
will you?

Oh, hell no!

Are you kidding me?

That was some shit you pulled.

You lucky I wasn't there.

Does he pay you to talk?

Well, you can get out
any time you want.

What's up with that kid
you trained?

What about him?

Is he any good?

You saw him fight.

What did you think?

I mean, he looked good
for a minute

until he got knocked out.

I ask because my son, he's 6.

I think he could fight someday.

I'm always trying to pick
boss man's brains,

but he's not trying
to talk boxing.

So?

So what?

So what are you supposed to do
to start a kid off?

I'll tell you something.

Then you decide what you
think about training your kid.

How's that sound?

Most humans don't intentionally
put themselves in danger, right?

But fighters put themselves
in danger every day.

And my father taught me
and my brother Bobby

how to fight.

Some two-bit journalist
who's never fought before

will say we do it for
the love of the game.

Others might say
we do it for money.

Some might go so far
as to say it's a sickness.

Still others might have
the fucking nerve to say

a fighter's ducking something.

But me and my brother, we fought
'cause we didn't have

a fucking choice.

We fought so we wouldn't
catch a beating from our father.

Look, I'm not telling
you not to teach him.

I'm just telling you.

Me and my brother won
so many fights,

it's hard to keep count.

Even had fun doing it.

But in the end, we didn't win.

Our pops did.

And by the time
I figured that out,

it's all I could do
and all I wanted to do.

It had turned
into something else.

What was that?

Me.

Bobby.

That's okay.

He didn't know what you did.

I had the ladder.