All language subtitles for The Dutchman 2025 1080p AMZN WEB-DL DDP5 1 H 264-BYNDR.en

(screen whooshing)

(gentle music)

(gentle music continues)

(dramatic music)

- [Amir] You are immersed
now in the modern myth,

but you are alone.

It is a peculiar sensation,
this double consciousness,

this sense of always
looking at yourself

through the eyes of others.

You ever feel your twoness

an American, a Black man?

Two souls, two thoughts,
two unreconciled strivings,

two warring ideals
in one dark body.

You're lost, Clay,
but we can find you.

Don't you see?

Don't you see?

Don't you see?

(gentle music)

(gentle music continues)

So, Clay?

- I feel like I,

I feel like you
think I'm not really,

like you probably
assume about me.

A lot of people do.

About a lot of Black people,
Black men in particular.

It is just not what I'm
going through, okay?

I, I, I don't mind there. Some
of us don't really mind it.

I mean, I'm here.

I just,

anyway, nevermind.

Said everything I needed to say.

I had everything I
feel, prepared to say.

- Clay's been under a lot
of stress because of work.

And this fundraiser that
we're hosting for his friend,

Warren's reelection.

- You know, Clay,
everything you've just said,

which are all valid things,

but they all had to do with
what other people think.

What I think you should
say. Did you notice that?

- Shit, sorry, my, sorry. I
thought I switched it off.

- Do you see what I mean?

That's why this all
happened in the first place.

He's always on his cell phone
instead of talking to me.

- Look what you were just saying

it's just, I just, no,
it's just not it, so.

- How does that make you feel?

- Well, it is nice for somebody
to be asking me how I feel.

- You see that? You
see that right there?

- No, don't do that.
- Wow, okay.

- Can you not do that?
- Fine, go, go.

- I feel like if he
talked more, then we-

- Talk to him.

- If you talked more

and if he told me about
what he was feeling,

what you were feeling, we
could have avoided all of this

because we would've talked about
it and I would've realized-

- So it's my fault, Kaya?

I mean, all, all I have
to do is just talk more

for you to not sleep
with another man?

You already know what I'm going
through with people at work

and in our community being
not Black enough for one group

and two Black for the other.

I'm already struggling trying
to find balance. And now this.

- Clay is so manipulative.

- Would it make you feel
better if you did it too?

- Who are you, even?

- Kaya went out and explored,
yet she remains with you.

She came back to you,

but you're struggling deeply
with this and her choices.

What if he were to do the same?

- You gonna be
like this tonight?

- What? Happy.

- Okay. Really

- Depends.

Are you bringing him?

- What? No.

Why are you bringing someone?

- No, Kaya, who would
I bring? I have no one.

- Well, here's your tie.

- Thanks.

- I'm gonna change, so
I'll see you up too?

- Okay.

Hey.

- Let's see. Don't come, if
you're gonna be like this.

(footsteps tapping)

- Waiting for me, hey, Doc?

- Clay, I'd like to
give you something.

- Respectfully, Doc,
I'm gonna have to pass.

I don't take medication.

- It's not the medication
you're thinking of.

Earlier you mentioned
trying to find balance.

I know exactly what you mean.

- Do you?

It seems like you've been
on her side this whole time.

- Do you feel divided, Clay?

- I guess so, yeah.

- What do you struggle
with the most?

Conformity and expectation?
Identity and assimilation?

Anger or restraint?
Vulnerability and violence?

- All of the above, I
guess. Why do you ask?

(gentle music)

- Because understanding these
struggles can lead to freedom.

Have you ever heard of
the play "Dutchman?"

This play came to me

during one of the
darkest times in my life,

but sometimes we find pieces
of ourselves in literature

that help us heal.

Do you see yourself
on that train, Clay?

Trapped between who you really
are and who you must be?

(dramatic music)

Don't you see?

(door slams)
(footsteps tapping)

(gentle music)

(thunder roaring)

(gentle music continues)

- Hey, Warren, what's good?

- Oh, everything is good.
Crew's just setting up.

You know, you outside?

- Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just
leaving the doctor's office.

- You okay?

- I don't know,
man, I really feel

like I'm struggling
with this Kaya thing.

- Hey, hold, hold on one
sec. It, it's Dr. Bowers.

Hey, hey.
- Hey.

- How are you,
sweetheart? Oh, all right.

Say what you just said again.

- It's nothing, man.

Don't worry.

- Come on, man, I heard, Kaya.

(gentle music continues)

I feel like she did her
thing. Now you go do yours.

Turnabout's fair play.

- Fair? Did she say that?

- [Warren] No, but I'm
sure she thought it.

What'd the doctor say?

- Man was trying
to gimme something.

You think I'm really losing it?

Shit, maybe I am.

- No, no, whoa, whoa. You
didn't take it, did you?

- [Clay] Are you kidding me?

- Good, 'cause it's
game time, man.

I need you to get here
and do your thing.

- Yeah.
- All right?

(dramatic music)

(electronic beeping)

- Oh, Warren, hello?
- Yo, Clay?

(dramatic music continues)

(metal clanging)

- [Officer] Excuse me, sir,

do you mind stepping
over here, please?

Now over here, sir,
bag on the table.

- [Amir] Opening
scene underground.

- [Officer] Are you in a hurry?

What's so funny?

- In the flying
underbelly of the city,

(train roaring)

the subway heat and
modern vein roads there.

(train roaring)

(announcer speaking
indistinctly)

(dramatic music)

(train roaring)

(footsteps tapping)

(dramatic music continues)

- Weren't you staring at
me through the window?

At the last stop? I saw
you through the window.

(dramatic music)

Lula enters.

(dramatic music)

(passengers chatting
indistinctly)

- [Announcer] This is a
Bronx bound one train.

The next stop is
Franklin Street.

- [Announcer] Stand clear of
the closing doors, please.

(electronic beeping)
(metal clanging)

(train wheels whirring)

(train wheels
whirring continues)

- Hello? I'm gonna
sit down, okay?

- Yeah.

(Lula speaking indistinctly)

(train wheels
whirring continues)

- Nothing out there except
a black wall. Darkness.

- Uh-huh.

- Better when you were staring
at me through the window?

- What?

- Weren't you staring at
me through the window?

The last stop?

- Staring at you?

- You do know what
staring means, right?

- I, I saw you
through the window

seems that you were
the one staring at me.

- I was.

(train wheels
whirring continues)

- Okay.

(train wheels
whirring continues)

- I guess you were just
taking those idle potshots.

Nothing else to do. Run your
mind over people's flesh.

- Chill out, okay?

(train wheels
whirring continues)

- That's why I came
looking through the window.

I even smiled at you.

- Yeah, I saw.

- I even got onto this train,
going some other way than mine

walked down the aisle
searching you out.

- Ha, oh, yeah, I doubt that.

- Why is that so
hard to believe?

- Everything's hard to believe.

But if that is true,
it's hilarious.

- I know what you were thinking.

You think I wanna pick you up,

get you to take me
somewhere and fuck.

- You know, you, you asked
me a lot of questions

and got just one for you, do
I look like a sucker to you?

Hmm?

- You look like you've been
trying to grow a beard.

That's exactly
what you look like.

You look like you live in
New Jersey with your parents

and you're trying to grow
a beard, that's what.

- Okay, all right, you
know, I know what this is.

- Yeah?
- Yeah, yeah,

you, you are one of those-
- Those?

- Ah, those people on the
train, you know, struggling.

- No, that's not
me. I lie a lot.

It helps me control the world.

- Yeah, I bet.

- Tell me first, it's true,
most of it's true, right?

Jersey, your bumpy neck?

- All right, who
the hell are you?

How do you know all of this
about the beard, New Jersey?

Do I know you? Have
I met you before?

You know Warren Enright?

- I told you I lie a lot. I
don't know Warren Enright.

- Well, you're not just,

you're not just pulling
this out of thin air.

- Is Warren Enright a
tall, skinny, Black guy

with an off and on
southern accent?

- So you do know him.

- But I don't, I just figured

you would know
somebody like that.

- Yeah, yeah, of course.

(train wheels
whirring continues)

- I'm exciting. You think
I'm exciting, right?

- It's New York City, you, ah.

- Am I exciting you now, hmm?

- Hey, don't, don't,
don't do that.

- You really want me to stop?

(train wheels
whirring continues)

You want this?
- No.

- Can you get involved,
hmm? Get us involved.

Would you like to be
down with me, Mr. Man?

(dramatic music)

- I don't, I don't know.

Down with you?

- That's what I said.

- Oh, a woman like you?

(dramatic music)

- Oh boy. What a face.

You know, you could
be a handsome man.

- Thank you, and
I've been waiting

for somebody to come along and
confirm that, so thank you.

Thank you.

- Look at me, I'm going gray,
little gray hair for each year

and type I've come through.

- First you're
talking about my face

and how you talking
like you're old.

- Hey, why don't you take me

to that party you're
going to, hmm?

- Okay, okay, this is too much.

How do you know about the party?

- Don't you wanna take me?
Come on, I never get to go.

- I can't take
you to that party.

I don't even know your name.

- I'm Lena the Hyena.

- Wow, the famous woman, poet.

- Poetess, same.

- You know so much.
What's my name?

- Morris the Hyena.

I bet it's something like
Adam, oh, Porter, Lathe?

- Nah.

- Hey.

(footsteps tapping)

- You okay?

- Bless you, young man.

- Yeah. Yeah.

- I don't know what happened.

- Here, I got it.

- No, no, I, I really,
I don't, I don't,

I don't wanna impose.

- No, no, it's okay.
Let me help you.

- You're so nice.

You are a bright young man,
but I can see your strife.

You're searching for
something, salvation.

Heed the warning of
those before you.

Your fate can be
different, it will be.

Trust me, you'll see.

(materials rustling)
(footsteps tapping)

- What was that about?
- Ah, I don't know.

(footsteps tapping continues)

Hmm.

(shoppers chatting indistinctly)

- Just tell me
your name. Come on.

I bet it's something like
Gerald or Walter, Lloyd, Norman?

- Something like Warren.

- Well, for sure
it's not Willie,

one of those hopeless names
creeping out of New Jersey.

Leonard, Gag, come on, please.

(traffic buzzing)

- It's Clay. My name
is Clay, all right?

- Clay, huh? Clay, what?

- Take your pick, Jackson,
Johnson, Williams.

Does it even matter?

- I guess not, but
it's gotta be Williams.

You're too pretentious to
be a Jackson or a Johnson

but Clay's okay.

- Yeah, thanks.

Lena's fine.

- It's Lula.

- You said it was Lena.

- Lula the hyena.

- Do you say
anything that's true?

- I have an idea, oh,
why don't you say to me,

"Lula, Lula, will you go to
the party with me tonight?"

- Hey, hey.

I know these tactics.
I've been around.

I've seen things. I
know these tactics.

- People who've been around,

don't need to say
they've been around.

Don't you want me to
keep reeling you in?

- No.

- Little, itty bitty thread?

Here's my door

through there,
down four flights.

I shall open the
door with this hand

the same hand I use
to pull off my dress.

The same hand lover.

I'll push open the door and
lead you my big eyed prey

into my, what can I call it?

Into my hovel.

(dramatic music)

- Where'd you go? Where
do you keep going, huh?

Hey, what are you into, huh?

What are you playing at,
Mr. Clay? Clay Williams?

(thunder roaring)

(gentle music)

(footsteps tapping)

- What the hell am I doing?

(door slamming)

- Excuse me?

- Um,

nothing, it's just,
it's been a while.

- Hmm, thought you
were cool, Clay.

Cool Clay.

Are you scared about
meeting a woman?

- Um,

it's, it's just that I have to,

I'm gonna be late to the party.

- Mm, sit, let's talk.

- We've been talking all night.

- Endlessly.

- And yet you want
to keep going?

Look, the thing is, I'm not
just going to this party

I've actually gotta
make a speech, so.

(glass clanging)

- You still haven't
asked me to go.

(gentle music)

Ask me.

- Lula, would you like to
go to the party with me?

(gentle music continues)

- What do you wanna do, hmm?

Your manhood. Let's
talk about that.

- No.

- What do you think we've been
talking about all this time?

- What time is it?
This thing broke.

(gentle music continues)

- There is no time
when you're in here.

When you're with me.

(gentle music continues)

- Go on then.

We were talking
about my manhood.

- You still are. All the time.

(gentle music continues)

I felt it, enough to
make you a map of it.

(gentle music continues)

You wanna keep
talking or you wanna?

(gentle music continues)

- Finally

No, no, wait, no, no.

I want you to, I want
you to throw me hard.

I want you to hurl me onto
my fateful crib. Okay?

Do it now. Go.

(Lula laughing)

Yeah.

(dramatic music)

Yeah, come here, come on.

(dramatic music continues)

(both groaning)

Is this what you want?

(dramatic music continues)

Your manhood.

- Oh yeah.

(dramatic music continues)

(both groaning)

(dramatic music continues)

(both groaning continues)

(footsteps tapping)

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music continues)

You like what you see, Clay?

(dramatic music continues)

I want you to say to me,
many many times, say,

you can even whisper,
that you love me.

It's okay if you don't
mean it, it's fine.

I just wanna hear you say it.

- Yeah. I don't, I don't,
I don't lie on love.

- Yeah, I said you
don't have to mean it.

I just wanna hear you say it.

(dramatic music continues)

- I wouldn't lie about
something like that.

- It's the only kind of
thing you will lie about.

Especially if you think
it'll keep you alive.

- What's that supposed to mean?

You know what?
Nevermind, I'm gonna go.

- You said I'm going
to the party with you.

- Yeah, well, I'm gonna,
I'm gonna go home.

- You just gonna
fuck me and leave?

That's what y'all do, right?

- Y'all, what do you mean y'all?

- You know what I mean, men.

Your species,
especially men like you.

- Like me?

- Mm-hmm, yeah,
professional type.

- And can you just
chill with all of that?

Lula, you just keep saying
things that's not true.

- That's what? True?

- Ah, it's been real.
I'll see you around.

(dramatic music)

(Lula screaming)

(door slamming)

- Isn't that something? I
scream, the world stops.

Oh, oh no, look,

I've got bruises from
when you threw me down.

- Threw you? I didn't throw
you, you told me you wanted-

- I can call anyone
and say anything

and it's my word against yours.

Oh, wait.

(footsteps tapping)

- I also have evidence.
What do you have, your word?

One drop of this
anywhere on my body,

and that's you down for rape.

- This is, it's not funny.

- No, it's not funny.

It wouldn't be funny at
all if I called the police.

- Hell, what's wrong with you?

- We're gonna go to that
party like you promised me.

Like you promised before you
fucked me and tried to leave.

- Gimme that.
(Lula screaming)

- I know where
you're going anyway.

You wouldn't wanna
be rude, would you?

- I thought you were cool.

- What do you know about
cool? You're not cool at all.

- I didn't claim to
be. Don't want to be.

- Who doesn't want to be cool?

- You said you just
wanted to have fun.

- I'm having fun.

- This is fun?

You look angry. I don't
know why you are angry.

I'm the one who should be angry.
I didn't do anything wrong.

- Everything you say is wrong.

That's what makes you
so attractive. That
funny book jacket.

What you got a jacket and tie
on and all this heat for, huh?

This hot-ass New York night.

Did your people ever,
ever burn witches

or start revolutions
over the price of tea?

Don't you know these
narrow shouldered clothes

come from a time you
ought to feel oppressed by

fancy suit, striped tie.

What right do you have

to be wearing a fancy
suit and striped tie?

- You know what? I got you
now, I got you, all right.

You're not gonna get me again.

We're gonna go to this party

in and out just as
fast as we came.

But my life, you don't
know shit about my life.

- Oh, do you know?

Do you know if your
great-grandfather was a slave?

Because definitely
didn't go to Harvard.

(footsteps tapping)

- How, I dare you to say
one more thing about my-

- [Neighbor] Is
everything okay here?

- Everything okay, Clay?

- Yeah, everything's fine.

- Bet you went to one of
those all Black colleges

where everyone thought
they were Al Sharpton.

- Everybody except me.

- Oh yeah, what did
you think you were?

- Don't worry about it.
- I'm not worried about it,

I'm curious.

(footsteps tapping)

- In college, I thought
I was Jacques Prevert,

but I've slowed down since.

- Bet you never once thought

you were just another
one of the Blacks.

Oh, don't act so surprised.
Black is the shit right now.

I wish I was Black.

What is it Beyonce
says? "Black is King."

- Yeah, the whole world
benefits off our culture.

And what do we get
for it? Nothing.

You wish you were Black?

Please, of all your
lies, that's the worst.

- Ugh. Let's go.

(traffic buzzing)

- I could murder you now.
Such a tiny, ugly throat.

I could squeeze it flat and
watch you turn blue on a humble

for dull kicks

And all these weak-faced white
people squatting around here-

- Hey!

(gentle music)

Come on.

(gentle music continues)

(traffic buzzing continues)

I take back what I said before.

Everything you do is not
wrong. It is perfect.

- Hmm.

- You should be on television.

- Well, you've got enough
theatrics for the both of us.

- Oh, that's because
I'm an actress.

- Of course you are.

- You're wrong. I'm no actress.

I told you I always lie. I'm
nothing, don't you forget it.

(cab engine humming)

Tell me about your family.

What's your mother like?

I bet she was part of the
movement marching behind-

- My mother is a Republican.

- Oh, oh yes, of
course. That's perfect.

And I bet your father,

he votes for the man
rather than the party.

- Yeah, that's right.
- Yay for him.

- Oh, whatever.
- Oh, bullshit.

- Oh wow, you got some nerve
calling my words bullshit

after the nonsense that's
been spewing out of your mouth

all night long.

(cab engine humming continues)

- May the people accept you
as a ghost of the future

and love you that you may
not kill them when you can.

- What?

- You're a murderer,
Clay. And you know it.

(cab engine humming continues)

- Do what you gotta
do, okay? Seriously.

Sir, can you just,

can you just pull over
for a minute please?

I gotta go.
- No.

- Look, I can't take you
to this thing, I cannot.

(traffic buzzing)

You know what? Do
what you gotta do.

(dramatic music)

(Lula screaming)

(dramatic music continues)

(Lula groaning)

Fuck!

(traffic buzzing)

(dramatic music continues)

(footsteps tapping)

(upbeat music)

(party goers chatting
indistinctly)

- Hi.
- Hi.

- Oh, you made it.
- Hey, it's about time.

Since when are you
40 minutes late?

Well, I, this is Lula.

- What's good?

Hi.

- Hey, you know-
- Yeah, I know.

- All right, cool, cool.

Sweetie, we sh, yeah, all right.

- You know what, mm?

(party goers chatting
indistinctly)

(party goers applauding)

- Now, stop, no, thank you.

(party goers
applauding continues)

(party goers chatting
indistinctly)

- Clay, Clay, hi, you baby.

- Hi.
- How are you?

- Well, I'm okay, thank you.
- Good.

(party goers chatting
indistinctly continues)

- Hey, Clay.
- Hey.

- My man.
- Hey.

- How you doing? You all right?

- Yeah, yeah, just a train drum.

- People think that this
is the first real depiction

of a Black family, I mean, just
with imagery and with color.

Tanner is able to change-

- Oh, don't mind me.
- Yeah, sure, hang out.

- Oh, you don't mind?

- He said it's
cool. We don't mind.

- Oh, the mind is a
complex muscle. Am I right?

I mean, I'm always
toying with my mind.

I feel like we all
are. Don't you agree?

Well, actually, my mind
is always toying with me.

If you could see what was
going on in there, just-

- Ah, it's not a muscle.

- See, I knew somebody
would understand.

- The, the mind deals with
consciousness, thought.

That's not a muscle. You're
thinking of the brain.

Not a muscle either,
but controls all of it.

- What are you a
doctor or something?

- Yeah, he's a neurosurgeon.

- You?
- Him.

- Hmm.

- Is that so hard to believe?

- No, just like when
I think of a doctor,

I, I mean, what do you picture?

What do you think of when
you think of a doctor?

- What the hell kind
of question is that?

- Ooh, no, I'm, it's no
offense to you at all.

It's just like, it's
what I see, you know?

Like, it's what we all see.

- It's not what I see.

(gentle music)

- Was it something I said?

- I'm sorry, what?
What's your name again?

- Oh, I didn't, I didn't say.

- So what's your name?

- It's Lula. What's yours?

- Kaya.

- Kaya, you're so pretty.
God, your hands are so soft.

They're like silk.

(upbeat music)

(party goers chatting
indistinctly)

But appearances
can be deceiving.

It's about what's on the inside.

It's about, you know, the
inside that has value.

(upbeat music continues)

(party goers chatting
indistinctly continues)

- Something is wrong with you.

(glass shatters)

Excuse me. I'll, um.

(upbeat music continues)

(party goers chatting
indistinctly continues)

(footsteps tapping)

- Excuse me, please.

(party goers chatting
indistinctly continues)

(Kaya gasping)

Kaya, let me see.
- I'm fine.

- It's okay if you're not.

(dramatic music)

(water gushing)

Are you gonna tell me
what she said to you?

- You know, I did what I did,

but I never put it
all in your face.

- Okay, you know,
I'm struggling here

with something
that you did to me.

All I want is to get that
shit out of my head forever.

(gentle music)

- I came back to you, Clay.

- But in here you are still
with him. Do you understand?

- Yeah, in here,
it's in your head.

- What do you want me to do?

Go sit down and meditate
away. Is that what you want?

- Yeah, you can try that.

- Okay.
- That would be one thing.

You know what Gina said?

- Oh, Gina said, what
did, what did Gina say?

Gina said, Gina
said, right. Okay.

It's funny how all your friends

who've never actually
been to therapy

have all these wonderful ideas
about what I should be doing.

- Stop it.
- You stop it.

(party goers chatting
indistinctly)

So you're gonna hold
one night against me

for the rest of our lives.

Seriously?

It was a misunderstanding.

- Oh, it was infidelity, Kaya.

- No, it wasn't.
Clearly, it wasn't.

I thought you were
doing the same thing.

- You thought I was?
- Yes.

- How? Why would, when
would I be doing that, Kaya?

- I don't know.
- No, tell me.

When would it be? When I was
at work working my ass off?

Or maybe when I was hosting
all these fundraisers.

Maybe when I, I was
going, I trust fund so

that our kids would have
a fucking school to go to.

Is that what I, oh
wait, sorry, I forgot.

We don't even have kids yet

because you wanted to
focus on your thing.

Sorry, that was,

you know what?

It's fine.

- I'm sorry I couldn't help you.

But you never shared
what's going on.

- Right?
- I have no idea

what's going on in your head.

- It was my fault.

- No, I didn't say
it was your fault.

- You just said it.

- I didn't say it was your
fault, but you brought her here.

Clay, that is breaking my heart.

- What do you think
is happening tomorrow?

(gentle music)

- Okay. What is going on?

(gentle music continues)

- I can't explain.

(gentle music continues)

- To hurt me? You're
too smart for this.

(gentle music continues)

- I know.
- To derail everything.

- I know, I know.

- Tell me.

(gentle music continues)

- After therapy
something had happened.

Dr. Amir tried to, tried
to give me something.

Did you, were you in on that?
- What?

(gentle music continues)

- You, what? (indistinct).

Maybe it would help you.

(gentle music continues)

- Something, something's
wrong with me.

- What's wrong?
- I don't know

if something's wrong.
- Kaya?

- Ah, there you are.

Warren needs you downstairs.
- Okay.

(party goers chatting
indistinctly)

(gentle music)

- Hello, hit me.

(party goers chatting
indistinctly)

- Bitch, just wait.

- Ah, you called me
bitch?. I love it.

(party goers chatting
indistinctly continues)

(gentle music)

You here for the fireworks?

I've seen you, walking around

once they're mine, they're
mine, you know that is.

(party goers chatting
indistinctly continues)

- I'm not gonna let
this happen again.

(party goers chatting
indistinctly continues)

This one is different.

(party goers chatting
indistinctly continues)

- Okay.

(party goers chatting
indistinctly)

(upbeat music)

Sorry.

(upbeat music continues)

- Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.

- Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.

- I think it's, I
think it's time to go.

- Oh, come on.

Don't you have some big speech?

- I'm leaving.
- Okay.

(upbeat music continues)

- You need to get her up
outta here. She is murder.

She is murdering the vibe.

- What time is it?

Feels like things are
just standing still.

What time do we have to be on?

- Hey, Clay?

- What?
- Look around you.

You know who's in
the room tonight

and you know who's
watching you and Kaya.

All right, we're
building empires here.

- You know, I've
never fucked up.

Never once.

- Oh, so now you just
on some yin-yang shit?

Now is not the time.
- No.

It's like I'm a machine man.
It's like we are machines.

Now, stick to the plan.

The right schools, the
right cities, the right job.

It's all been written, man.
Every second of it, every step.

But what did it get us,
Warren? What does it get us?

- What?

- It ain't working, Warren.
Think about it, man.

The, the, the, the, the
speeches, the fundraisers,

the, the meetings, the plans,
what difference does it make?

Who really owns this city, huh?

Who is gonna own New Harlem
once we get done fixing it up

with our picture
perfect Blacks, huh?

Lula's, that's who.

(upbeat music continues)

I mean, you not
ready to hear this.

- Brother? You need
to get it together.

- Hmm.

(upbeat music continues)

She can say anything, Warren,

(upbeat music continues)

anything.

(upbeat music continues)

I fucked up.

Evidence at all that
she's threatened.

(upbeat music continues)

- Clay, but why? Why
would she do that?

- I don't know, I don't know.

It's like she knows everything
about me, even about you.

A clear nightmare,
man, don't you see?

(upbeat music continues)

- Yeah, yeah, yeah. I see.

She could say
anything, but tonight

(upbeat music continues)

she's not gonna say anything.

(upbeat music continues)

And you are gonna
make sure of that.

(upbeat music continues)

(lyricist singing indistinctly)

(upbeat music continues)

(lyricist singing
indistinctly continues)

- Hey.

(upbeat music continues)

Help me understand, what
is it that you want?

- Love is everything
that I want.

All you had to do was say it.

- Just give me the purse.
- No.

- Warren, please tell me

you got further
with him than I did.

(party goers chatting
indistinctly)

- She's got something on her,
but don't worry about it.

(Warren speaking indistinctly)

(party goers chatting
indistinctly)

- You gotta be acting.
Is that what this is?

- I told you I
wasn't an actress,

but I also told you
that I lie all the time.

So draw your own conclusions.

- Man, this is crazy.

- Don't call me fucking crazy.

- Okay.
- You men

always try and make
the woman crazy.

- Okay, shh, stop.
Fine, you're not crazy.

(party goers chatting
indistinctly)

Jesus, in front of
all these people.

(party goers chatting
indistinctly)

- Do they frighten you?

- Why would they frighten me?

(party goers chatting
indistinctly)

- Because even with all of them,

you're still an escaped Black.

- How's everybody doing tonight

at the Livet party in Harlem?

(party goers cheering
and applauding)

Where's my man Clay at? Yo,
Clay, Clay, come on up here man.

(party goers cheering
and applauding)

- Good evening everybody. I
said good evening everybody.

- [Party Goers] Good evening.

- All right, all right.
What a night, huh?

What a night.

So many people to
thank I, first of all,

thank you to Dr. Bowers
for hosting us this evening

it's been a beautiful
celebration, thank you.

Thank you to my wife, Kaya, and
the whole hosting committee.

You've done a beautiful
job tonight, thank you.

Um.

(suspenseful music)

Um.

(suspenseful music continues)

Right. Um.

(suspenseful music continues)

The night is beautiful. So
are the faces of my people.

The stars are beautiful. So
are the eyes of my people.

Beautiful, also, is the sun.

Beautiful, also are
the souls of my people.

Why do people come
to Harlem? Why do we?

Is it to walk in the footsteps
of our, of our heroes?

To write like, like Langston,
to to play like Duke,

(Clay and party goers laughing)

to build like Philip Payton,
to sculpt like Augusta Savage?

What is it that brings
us to this place?

You know, there are some
people who, who talk about

making a New Harlem and wanna
refashion it, rebrand it

into some new thing.

The thing these
people fail to realize

is that this place
holds our history

this place is our home.

Marcus Garvey said that
a people without a sense

of their origin is like
a tree without roots.

But there's among us tonight,

a man whose roots run
deep in this community.

A man who has a
vision for Harlem

that doesn't just privilege
the, the elites or the wealthy,

but that is also concerned
about the down trodden

and the overlooked.

This is a man who has reached
down deep within himself

to bring out the very best
and he didn't stop there.

He brought out also the
best in me and all of us.

Now, I want y'all
to please join me

in putting your hands together
and welcome him to the stage

my friend, no, my brother
Mr. Warren Enright.

Let's bring him to
the stage, y'all.

(party goers applauding)

Enright, Enright,
Enright, Enright.

- [All] Enright, Enright,
Enright, Enright, Enright,

Enright, Enright,
Enright, Enright.

(party goers applauding)

- All right, now
y'all, all right.

Isn't this also that good?

- I think I underestimated you.

- Just to come out
here and see me.

(Warren speaking indistinctly)

(suspenseful music)

No, but in all seriousness,

when I ran for city council-

- Mm.
- Wait, what are you doing?

- I have something to say.

- No, (indistinct).
- Get off me.

(suspenseful music)

Y'all got 'em so excited,

they already running
to the polls, right?

(suspenseful music continues)

- Hey!

(suspenseful music continues)

Hey!

(suspenseful music continues)

Help me!
- Stop, stop.

(suspenseful music continues)

(brakes squealing)

(suspenseful music continues)

(thunder roaring)

(camera clicking)

(gentle music)

(metal clanging)

- Every minute spent denying
what's in front of you

is a minute lost, then
hours, then days and years.

- I'm sorry, you talking to me?

- Every minute spent denying
what's in front of you

is a minute lost, then
hours, then days then years,.

- Dr. Amir. So it is you.

- I am whoever it is you
need me to be. I'm everyone.

I'm no one. But we
don't have much time.

- What is happening to me?

- Time is a fickle thing.

You have until dawn to
dismantle your curse.

- Curse? Man, I
don't have a curse.

- Oh, there is. I'm sorry.

Your pain drew her to you.

And fate is a vicious cycle,
but together we can end it.

- Let's go.
- Wait, what were you saying

about my fate,
about the, the dawn?

I have until dawn? What am
what am I supposed to do?

- Get back to my office.
- Hey, come on.

- Read the pages,
it's all been written.

Every rest, every step.
- Wait.

- Sometimes we can find pieces
of ourselves in literature

that can help facilitate
the healing process.

Salvation, it lies
within, my man of Clay.

(suspenseful music)

- Oh my God.

- You bailed me out?
- Jesus.

- You wouldn't believe me if
I told you who I just saw.

- No, I, I, I, I'm sorry.
I'm, I'm still dealing

with what I just saw.
- Dr. Amir,

he told me things about me-

- What?
- About me being,

being curse or something?

- No, no, no.

You humiliated us in front
of all of our friends.

- No, Kaya, I was there.
- And for what?

- It happened to
me, I was there-

- No, it just happened to
you? It happened to us.

- You're right. I, I think
I just want to go home.

- No.
- Please.

I just want to go home.

- No, okay, you're
not going anywhere

until you told me what's
going on, this isn't you.

- Kay.
- Okay, this is why we're at?

- Look, whatever it is,
Kaya, it's important.

- I'm important.

- I know, I,

Kaya, there's just
so much more to it.

- I'm sorry, Clay, I'm
sorry that I hurt you.

I know you don't
believe me, but I am,

I really am, I fucked up.

I'm trying my best.
What are you doing?

I need you to, to
figure this out.

I'm gonna go home.

- Baby, don't go.
- No, don't.

- Kaya, Kaya.

(dramatic music)

(thunder roaring)

(water gushing)

(dramatic music continues)

(dramatic music continues)

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music continues)

- [Amir] You are lost,
Clay, but we can find you.

(suspenseful music continues)

Don't you see?

Sometimes we find pieces
of ourselves in literature

that help us heal.

(suspenseful music continues)

Don't you see?

Don't you see?

Don't you see?

(suspenseful music continues)

(Amir speaking indistinctly)

(wood thudding)

(suspenseful music continues)

The opening scene is a man
sitting in a subway seat.

- Hello. I'm gonna
sit down, okay?

- Do I know you? Have
I met you before?

- You are afraid of white
people and so is your dad.

(Lula laughing)
You fool.

- [Amir] The girl
brings up a small knife

(suspenseful music continues)

and plunges it
into Clay's chest.

(suspenseful music continues)

- What did you do to me?

- If all the world is a stage,
we are merely players in it.

- What does that even mean?
Why did you write this?

You put me in this play?

- Lula's obsessions only ever
end in death and destruction.

I did what I had to do to
give you a fighting chance.

But here in the cradle
of my legacy, my stage,

words and truth fall free.

- Then tell me the truth
about her, Lula, who is she?

- She's my darkest
thoughts may manifest

someone who sought to
destroy everything about me.

My goals, dreams, my identity.

She's a demon who feeds on the
divisions within men like us.

I created her in
one night in '64,

conjured up both her
and the first play

in some sort of fevered dream.

And I haven't been
able to stop her

through time,
across generations.

- Wait.

So it's, it's true what I read?

She kills him.

- Yes.

- Wait a minute. So, so
my fate is to die tonight?

- For years, I believe
that the moving finger

writes and having
written moves on.

But that's not true. The
narrative is pliable.

It can change
- By me?

No, I don't, I don't have-

- You have everything you need

to break free of that fiction.

You are not the "Dutchman"
I wrote. You have love.

You have Kaya, but you
also have a fire in you.

Rage like that used
to get us killed

but now it's only through
the furnace of rage

that we can truly live.

(gentle music)

- Sometimes we can find pieces
of ourselves in literature

that can help us facilitate
the healing process.

- Yes, and sometimes a man

must go a very long
distance out of the way

to get back a short
distance correctly.

(gentle music continues)

- Finish the play, Clay.

(gentle music continues)

(suspenseful music)

(suspenseful music continues)

(suspenseful music continues)

(suspenseful music continues)

(suspenseful music continues)

(suspenseful music continues)

(train roaring)

(suspenseful music)

(train wheels whirring)

(Clay gasping)

- Relax. Let's go back
into the beautiful dream.

Hold me, hold me, Clay.

- You stop with the craziness.

- Who are you to
judge who's crazy?

- Why me? Lula.

- Because you crawled
through the wire.

I made tracks to my side.

- Wire, what are
you talking about?

- Don't they have wire
around plantations?

- Plantations didn't have wire.

- Oh, right, you're right.

They were big, open,
whitewashed places like heaven

and everybody on 'em
was grooved to be there.

- You stop
- Just like

strumming and humming all day.
- I said, stop.

- What are you flipping out for?

Without that you would've
never had the gospel.

You would've never
had the blues.

That's how the blues was born.

That's how the blues
was born, yeah.

That's how the blues
was born, yeah, yeah.

That's how the blues
was born yeah, yeah.

That's how the blues was born.
Get outta my fucking way.

Can't you see I'm singing
the goddamn blues?

That's how the blues was born.

Hey Clay, Clay,
let's do the nasty.

Come on, let me pop it on
you again. Come on, Clay.

Please do it again.

- What did you put
in those apples?

- Come on.

Mirror, mirror on the wall.
Who's the fairest one of all?

Snow white, don't
you forget it, baby.

Hey, come on Clay. Come
on, let's do it again.

Come on, let's do the gritty
grind like your old mama.

- Say one more fucking
thing about my mama.

- Oh, come on, Clay,

shake it, shake,
shake it, shake it.

Come on, let's do the
box, body roll, bitch.

Come on, you rich Black bastard.

Forget your social working
mother for a minute

and let's get lit, come on,
you liver-lipped white man.

You ain't no Black man.
You're just a dirty white man.

Come on, get up, dance
with me, Clay. Come on.

- Lula, sit your ass down.
I'm not playing with you.

- I'm not playing with you.
I'm not playing with you.

Jacket buttoned up to your chin.

So full of white man's
words. Christ, God.

Get up, get up and
scream meaningless shit

in their stupid faces.

Come on, get up.

(Lula screaming)

Get up, Clay.

Don't sit there dying the
way they want you to die.

- Sit down, Lula.
- Screw you, Uncle Tom.

Uncle Tom, his Woolly-Head.

- Yeah, tell us.

- Uncle Thomas Woolly-Head.

- Ha.

(suspenseful music)

- You wanna dance?
- Yeah.

(suspenseful music continues)

Sit down. That's how the
blues was born, yeah, yeah.

That's how the blues-

- Lula!

- That's how the blues
was born, yeah, yeah.

That's how the blues was born.

(suspenseful music)

- Get off of me.

(all shouting indistinctly)

(body thudding)

- Now you sit your ass down
and shut up, all right?

Shut the hell up. You don't
know what you're talking about.

So shut your dumb ass mouth.

- You're afraid of white
people and so is your dad,

uncle Tom.

(hand slapping)
(Lula gasping)

(Lula laughing)

(suspenseful music continues)

- Now you shut up. It's my turn.

(suspenseful music continues)

You don't have any sense,
Lula, feelings neither.

I can murder you now,
such a tiny, ugly throat.

I could squeeze it flat
and watch you turn blue

for dull kicks.

And all these weak-faced white
people squatting around here.

I could murder them too,
even if they expected it.

That man right there,

I could rip that "Times"
right outta his hand.

As skinny and
uppity though I am,

I could rip that
paper out of his hands

and just as easily
rip out his throat.

It takes no great
effort. But for what?

To kill you soft idiots?

You don't understand
anything but luxury.

- You fool.

- All luxury in your
faces and in your fingers

telling me what I ought to do.

Don't, don't tell me anything.

If I am an uppity
fake white man,

then let me be and let
me be how I want to be.

Let me be who I feel like being,

Uncle Tom, Thomas, whatever.

It's none of your
fucking business.

You don't know anything,

other than what is
there for you to see

an act, lies, device,

but not the pure heart, not
the pumping Black heart.

You don't ever know that.

And oh, I sit here in
my buttoned up suit

trying to keep myself from
cutting all your throats.

And I mean wantonly, huge,
great liberated whore.

You, you fuck some Black
man and, and, and right away

you think you an expert
on all Black people.

What a load of shit is that?

All you know is that you come,
if he fucks you hard enough.

And that is all.

(Clay giggling)

Oh, you say, you say you
want to move something,

you want to shake,
shake something

(Clay giggling continues)

and you don't even
know how to at all.

Oh, moves that you do, rolling
your ass like a elephant.

Baby, that's not my dance,
my dance is in dark places,

basement parties, Black sweat.

Oh, oh four-eyed, four-eyed
white boys popping they fingers

and, and, and, don't
even know how to,

that kind of dance hates you.

They talking about
I love Nina Simone.

And they don't even know
that Nina Simone is saying,

kiss my Black ass, kiss
my Black, unruly ass.

Before love, before
suffering, before desire

she is saying, and very
plainly, baby kiss my ass.

And if you don't know that

it's you that's
doing the kissing.

And I am the great would-be
poet, oh, that's right, poet.

Some kind of bastard literature.

(suspenseful music continues)

And all it would take
is one knife thrust,

(suspenseful music continues)

one simple knife thrust.

(suspenseful music continues)

Listen to me.

Don't preach rationalism or
code logic to these Black folks.

Let 'em alone, let
'em curse you in codes

and see your filth as
a simple lack of style.

Don't make the mistake

through some irresponsible
surge of Christian charity.

I'm talking too much
about western rationalism

and the great intellectual
legacy of the white man.

Or they might just
begin to listen

and become stand up western men

with an eye for clean, youthful
lives, sober bias, insane.

And one day they
will murder you.

They will murder you and have
very rational explanations,

very much like your own.

They will cut your
throats and drag you out

to the edges of your
cities for the flesh

to fall away from the bone.

- I've heard enough.

- I bet you have.

Looks like we won't
be playing out

that little pageant
of yours, after all.

Do what you want.

I'm getting the
fuck off this train.

(suspenseful music)

- Sorry, baby, I don't
think we can make it.

(both shouting indistinctly)

(both gasping)

(suspenseful music continues)

I thought you loved me.

Everybody loves me.

I just wanted to
hear you say it.

Why didn't you just say it?

(dramatic music)

- [Officer] Get your hands
up to the fucking roof.

On your knees.

- [Officer] Get off the
ground now, on your stomach.

Need a bust, you hear
me? Fucking down on
your belly, down.

(officer speaking indistinctly)

Did you see what happened?

- I didn't, but she did.

- I saw it.

Oh, why you arresting
him? She attacked him.

- We'll take your statement
down at the station.

- But she-
- Sit down.

This is an active crime scene

we're taking this guy
down to the station.

- No, he is the victim here.
- Sit down.

Up, now, come on, get up.

(all groaning)

- [Lula] Sorry, baby, I
don't think we can make it.

(Clay and Lula
shouting indistinctly)

- Your fate can be different,
trust me, you'll see.

- What was that about?
- I don't know.

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music continues)

(dramatic music continues)

(gentle music)

(gentle music continues)

(knuckles rapping)

(gentle music continues)

- Hey.

(gentle music continues)

- Can we talk?

- What do you wanna talk about?

- Everything.

(gentle music continues)

- Okay.

(gentle music continues)

- [Amir] Have you ever heard
of the play "Dutchman?"

- It's about the brother
on the train, right?

The white girl.
- White.

You are lost, Clay,
but we can find you.

(dramatic music)

Don't you see?

Don't you see?

Don't you see?

(suspenseful music)

The past is prologue, Clay,

- But it doesn't have to be.

(clock ticking)

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music continues)

(dramatic music continues)

(dramatic music continues)

(dramatic music continues)

(dramatic music continues)

(dramatic music continues)

(dramatic music continues)

(dramatic music continues)

(dramatic music continues)

(dramatic music continues)

(dramatic music continues)

(dramatic music continues)

(dramatic music continues)