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(low rumbling)
(cicadas buzzing)
(low rumbling)
(sombre music)
(cicadas buzzing)
- Let's climb.
- This game will kill us, Francis.
- You hear the electric buzz louder the higher you get.
Your teeth will shiver.
(♪)
But if you make it to the top...
Bro, you're good. (chuckles)
It's a great view, you know?
(electric humming)
Footstep on the wrong line...
Touch your hand on the wrong metal
while you're brushing against another...
...you'll burn to a crisp.
You want to go out like that?
Then when you climb, go careful.
You watch me.
Follow my every move.
Think on every step before you take it.
Put it to memory, remember that the whole way up.
And if you can't use your memory right...
(♪)
You lose.
(cicadas buzzing)
(foreboding music)
(electric humming)
(loud electric buzzing)
(thunder rumbles)
(birds cawing)
(brakes screeching)
(brakes hiss)
(birds cawing)
- Well, you're not dressed for the weather.
- No, that's cool. Just a short way.
You look good, Aisha.
(sighs)
(birds cawing)
(indistinct street chatter)
(dog barking in the distance)
Watch your step.
(indistinct voice on television)
(soft music)
Won't be sleeping in the same bed, of course.
I'll be using the living room couch.
Uh... I got you extra towels and sheets and stuff.
- Um, your mom doesn't speak anymore?
- No, she speaks.
She's quiet, sometimes.
Especially at night.
- Uh...
I'm... I'm so sorry.
I really shouldn't have come here.
This is... This is an intrusion.
(sombre music)
(sighs)
I still think of Francis.
(inhales)
♪ Ne me quitte pas ♪
♪ Il faut oublier ♪
♪ Tout peut s'oublier ♪
♪ Qui s'enfuit déjà ♪
♪ Oublier le temps ♪
♪ Des malentendus ♪
♪ Et le temps perdu ♪
♪ À savoir comment ♪
♪ Oublier ces heures ♪
♪ Qui tuaient parfois ♪
♪ À coups de pourquoi ♪
♪ Le coeur du bonheur ♪
♪ Ne me quitte pas ♪
- Francis, Michael, get in here, I'm leaving!
I'll set out your dinner.
Callaloo rice and stewed chicken.
Francis, help your brother with his homework.
No answering the door.
No turning on the oven or the stovetop
at any time, you hear me, Francis?
Strap your backside red
if I come back and find you or your brother hurt.
Absolutely no TV after eight.
I'll call at nine to say good night.
I'm back at 6AM.
I have to go. They're paying me time and a half.
(door creaks open, shuts)
(sighs)
(soft music)
- Come on.
- Okay, love you. - Hm-hmm.
- Love you. - Alright.
(door shuts)
(crickets chirping)
(brakes screeching)
(horn honks)
(indistinct chatter)
- What's up, Francis?
(indistinct chatter)
(soft music)
(laughing)
(school bell rings)
(machines whirring)
- Just drops slightly in the way.
(indistinct chatter)
And the reason is to make you feel as though
something isn't right, something's off.
- Spaz!
Michael, come here.
Come here.
(rhythmic music in headphones)
Who do you listen to?
(♪)
Yo, what the fuck is this shit, man?
- Give me-- - Yo, the man's listening to some white boy shit, bro.
- Yo!
The fuck.
- Respect, Francis.
- No bro, don't touch him again, you hear me?
- Yeah, man.
It's cool.
- Psst. I'll see you at home.
- Alright.
(plane wooshing by)
(bell dings)
(panting)
(indistinct voice on radio)
- Come on, Aisha.
(bell dings)
(cash register beeps)
(soft music)
(fan rattling)
(sighs)
(cars whooshing by)
(laughing)
- That's my gift to you.
(chuckles)
Hey, take your time.
(chuckles)
- Thanks, man. - You're welcome.
Hey, don't make anybody disrespect you. Okay?
And don't make any enemies.
- Your friends are assholes.
- Yeah, okay. You don't get it.
You know I'm thinking about quitting school?
Guidance counsellors just stream us all in the shop class anyhow.
I ain't gonna be no carpenter.
- But you graduate in three months.
You know Mom would kill you.
What would you do?
- I don't know.
Maybe get into music, you know?
Anyway, I'm just thinking about it.
(cars whooshing by)
(indistinct chatter)
(sighs)
- Hey, can...
May I sit here?
(whispering): Yeah.
(clears throat)
(sighs)
(clears throat)
(sighs)
Hey in there.
- Hey, uh, sorry, just...
This book is really cool.
- Yeah. Oedipus Rex is my favourite.
Oedipus killed his father and then screwed his mother.
(chuckles)
Where are you from?
(stutters) - What?
- Where are your people from?
My dad is from Jamaica and my mom was Portuguese.
- My mom is Jamaican and I don't know what my dad is.
- Why don't you know?
- My mom doesn't really talk about him that much.
- Oh.
- Uh, where is... Was your mom?
- She died when I was a baby.
My dad raised me.
She came here as a nanny
and he was a gardener.
They worked for the same family in Rosedale.
I'm a child of the help.
(chuckles)
I know your brother, Francis.
Everyone knows him. - Yeah.
- All the girls in the neighbourhood,
they talk about him all the time.
- Hm-hmm.
- I'm Aisha. - I know.
Michael.
My name's Michael.
- Hello, Michael.
- Hi, Aisha.
(chuckling)
(electric humming)
(screaming in the distance)
- I didn't do anything!
- Where you running to, man?
Huh? You bitch ass motherfucker!
(fists landing, groaning)
- What you looking at?
- Get him!
- There! Fuck yeah!
(groaning, chuckling)
(coughing, moaning in pain)
- Give me that.
(panicked yelping)
- Oh, yeah!
(groans)
(chuckling)
(panting)
- Stay out of my fucking neighbourhood, you heard?
Bitch ass nigga!
- That's what you get!
- What's up, Michael?
(sombre music)
(sobbing)
- Yo.
Yo, yo.
You alright?
(sobbing)
(laughing)
(laughing maniacally)
(TV): Another robbery in Scarborough today...
- When's Ma coming back home again?
- In the morning. Stop being such a baby.
(TV): Scarborough police are presently searching
for two Black men they believe to be armed and dangerous
following a convenient store robbery that left one man dead.
Just as a warning, what you are about to see
may be disturbing to some of our viewers.
(sinister music)
(no audio)
If you have any information on either of these men,
please call the police hotline.
- Meanwhile, in Newmarket, police are still looking
for any information...
(indistinct voice on TV)
(soft music)
(thumping)
(worrying music)
(thumping at door)
(doorknob rattling)
- Boys! Francis.
- Michael was scared, Mommy.
- Well I'm here now, sorry for taking so long.
(R&B music on radio)
- I made it sweet this time, Mama.
(children chattering, screaming outside)
- Thank you, Francis.
(♪)
Thank you, Francis.
- Yeah.
Here's your towel.
You want me to make you some tea, Mom?
- No, no, thank you baby.
It's too warm for English tea.
- Okay.
- Where are you going?
I'm making dinner for you and your brother.
- Just going to meet some friends.
- Which "friends"?
I don't want you running the street with no hooligans,
you hear me, Francis? (sighs)
- My brethren ain't no hooligans, Mom.
- Where you learn to talk like that?
- "Ain't no hooligans." Not in this house.
I taught you to speak the Queen's English better than that.
- Alright, I'll come home for dinner.
- Take your brother with you. - Why?
I'm not taking him.
- I don't need to go out, Mom.
(sombre music)
(sirens echoing)
(♪ Bam Bam ♪ by Sister Nancy)
(indistinct chatter)
- We're chasing him and chasing him.
You know, we put some fluid on him
and the next thing you know, we just out of there.
You know why? Cause we had to make an example out of him, you know?
At the end of the day, we weren't gonna lit that nigga up!
Oh, Francis.
(indistinct chatter)
(♪)
(chuckles) What's up?
- Hot gal walking! Hm-hmm!
- Hey! (chuckles)
What's up?
You know Joe?
- Bless.
(laughing) - I see you, I see you!
- Bro?
(♪)
(soft music)
(muffled rapping)
(indistinct voice on TV)
- Alright, moving on to Francis's spice rack.
You know what's the difference here, Francis?
- No.
- Your shelves are crooked.
(chuckles) - What?
They look straight to me.
- Did you use a level before you put them on?
- Yeah.
- You're not gonna last long on the job
when you get out into the real world
if you don't double and triple check your work!
Do better, Francis, come on.
- Fuck you, fuck this. I quit.
- What did you say?
- Fuck you, fuck this.
(sombre music)
(machines whirring)
(indistinct intercom)
- Wow.
- My mom's working till seven.
And my brother doesn't get home for another little while.
- Are these yours?
- No, those are my brother's.
He wants to be a producer like Dre.
(chuckles) He's not having the best of luck yet.
- Well, he has very eclectic taste.
I see LL Cool J, Nina Simone, Talking Heads...
Anne Murray?
(chuckles)
- Yeah, he got that from our mom's.
Yeah, she thinks Anne Murray is dope.
- Come sit with me.
- Okay.
(indistinct chatter)
- You alright, Goose?
- Hey, Francis.
- I got it.
(sighs) Alright, so...
Alright, there you go.
Give me a high-five.
(jokingly exclaims in pain)
(soft music on radio)
- What are you... What are you doing home?
- I live here, remember?
- Oh, this is Aisha.
- Yeah, I know Aisha. What's up?
- Chilling. (chuckles)
- Yeah, we did... grade 9 English together.
Smartest girl in the school.
- I don't know about that.
- Well...
- Um, I really like your taste in music.
- Thank you. I see you feeling... Eric B. and Rakim.
- Yes. Rakim is the best lyricist ever.
- That's right.
- I hold the microphone like a grudge...
(both): ...B'll hold the record so the needle don't budge.
I ain't no joke!
(laughing)
I like you. You know your shit.
For real.
(♪)
- Uh...
I should get going.
I will see you later?
- Yeah. Yeah, tomorrow.
Library. - Okay.
See you. - Alright.
Yo, is... Is Mom home yet?
- No, she won't be home till seven.
- Alright.
(♪)
(door unlocks)
(door shuts)
(bedroom door shuts)
(sighs)
(crickets chirping)
(sombre music)
(maniacal laughter echoing)
- You know those guys? - Nah, not from around here.
Maybe Flemingdon.
Probably looking for somebody.
(plane roaring above)
I'm going away.
- What?
When?
- Soon.
Couple weeks, just working on the details.
- But what about Mom?
- I'll tell her soon.
She'll be alright.
She'll understand. Bro.
- But-- - She'll be fine.
One less mouth to feed, you know?
- She relies on you.
- Come on, Michael.
I'm not gonna abandon her.
I'll send her money.
And... she's strong, you know?
She survived things we don't even know about.
We both take care of her.
I have to go.
(sentimental music)
Come on, let's go.
(sighs)
(crickets chirping)
(indistinct chatter)
- Shut the fuck up, man!
- Fuck you!
(indistinct agitated chatter)
(sombre music)
- Back up, back up.
(indistinct taunting)
- What you waiting for?
(dog barking)
- I told you, stay the fuck out of my neighbourhood.
Don't fucking misinterpret...
(dog barking)
(♪)
(gunshot)
- Yeah, run!
(groans)
(dog barking)
My block! - Francis!
Francis, Francis!
No, let's go!
(dog barking)
(dramatic music)
(gasps)
(sizzling)
- I'm making you breakfast.
- No, it's alright, Mom. You don't have to.
Got to go to work soon.
- Oh...
- It's okay. It's okay.
Hey, come, sit down. I'll make you breakfast.
- I can't sit, I'll set the table.
- Okay.
I'll be right back.
(knocking)
Aisha?
- That girl.
In your bed.
- She's just a friend, Mom.
Aisha.
She was a neighbour, remember?
She used to live at Unity with her father.
She was smart in school.
- Yes. The scholarship girl.
What's she doing now?
- Not too sure.
- Her jeans are very tight.
- Not that tight, Mama.
Look.
Her father, he died not too long ago.
- Oh.
- I invited her to spend some time here.
- In your bed.
- She's here for the neighbourhood.
To see and remember.
- So...
How long is she going to be here?
- I don't know, Mom.
She's just here to grieve.
(sighs)
- Poor thing.
(water running)
F-R-A-N-C-I-S.
Francis.
F-R-A-N...
C-I-S.
Please, help me reach him.
His birthday is at midnight.
- Ma'am, I need to know which city you want.
- Mom.
- Hello? Are you there?
Who are you trying to reach?
- I understand. I know he's not...
(sharp inhale)
(sniffs)
(soft music)
(indistinct voice on TV)
- I'll see you soon, okay?
- Sleep now, okay?
(sirens passing by)
(indistinct chatter outside)
(laughing)
(sirens)
(man outside): Come back! Where are you going?
- Michael is afraid.
- Come here.
What's he afraid of?
- I don't know.
Maybe it's the Black murderers.
- The who?
- The Black men in the TV.
- The criminals, Francis.
The criminals will be caught by the police and punished.
They'll not be here, we're very safe.
- He doesn't believe we're very safe.
- We are safe, son.
- No, we're not safe.
- We are safe, Francis.
Come here.
(soft music)
How about tomorrow, we go for a picnic
in the Rouge Valley?
(birds chirping)
(soft music)
(birds chirping)
(machine whirring)
(indistinct intercom)
(siren)
(creaking)
- Aisha?
(siren echoing)
(siren)
- On the fucking ground, now!
- Michael, put your hands behind your head!
(policeman screaming) Look at me!
Put your hands behind your head! - Your fucking hands!
- Fucking do it.
(groaning)
(panting)
- Francis-- - Shut up!
- Francis... - I just told you to shut the fuck up.
(panting)
(siren)
(indistinct radio chatter)
- Let's go.
(indistinct chatter)
(indistinct radio chatter)
- That's my mom. - Alright.
(car door shuts)
- Are you their mother? - Hm-hmm.
- Your boys were witness to a shooting altercation.
They're not under investigation.
- Was anyone hurt, officer?
- A young man was killed and a little girl was hit
when a bullet went through the walls of her unit
while she was sleeping.
- A girl?
A sleeping child?
- Yeah.
- Is she dead?
- It's under investigation.
Good night.
(indistinct radio chatter)
(crickets chirping)
- You will tell me everything.
Did you hear what I said?
You will tell me everything!
Francis!
Did you know any of those people that were shot?
You hear me asking you a question?
What are you doing?
Where are you going? - Nowhere.
- I ask you a question! Where are you going?
- Nowhere. - You're going to tell me where you're going!
- Let go! - Tell me where you're going!
- Francis! (thump)
- Sorry.
(sirens outside)
(door opens)
(indistinct) (door shuts)
(panting) - Michael. Leave me alone.
Leave me alone.
(panting)
(soft music)
(sighs)
(bus approaching)
- Yes, can I help you?
- Is Aisha home?
- What do you want with my daughter?
- It's okay.
- Where are you going with this boy?
- I'll be back soon, okay?
(cicadas buzzing)
(siren whooping)
- Really? Three?
- The cops haven't caught the guys yet.
Still out there.
- You know where Francis went?
- He's probably at Desirea's.
- You should go visit him.
- I haven't been there in...
He hasn't invited me, so...
- It was Goose.
The little girl who got shot.
- Little Goose?
The one who rides around in the park on a blue bike?
- Yeah.
They're saying she's stable now.
They're calling her lucky.
I have to go.
(sighs)
(siren whooping)
(sighs)
(sombre music)
(crickets chirping)
- Your father was so proud of you.
Tell every West Indian in the world about his daughter's writing scholarship.
(chuckles) - Aisha's a computer programmer now, Mom.
- Well, I'm a vagabond programmer.
In the last three months I have worked in Manilla, Austin,
Kampala... - Kampala?
- Yeah.
That's where I was when Dad called.
- Hmm. I'm so sorry, dear.
(soft music on radio)
- When Dad passed, I called Michael and he said,
"Please visit, come home to the Park."
So I did.
You know, a year ago, I visited the village
where my dad was born.
And that's the same village where you were born.
(chuckles)
- Yeah, I saw the cane fields,
now wild and a statue of Nanny of the Maroons.
(chuckles)
Yeah! You remember it. Right, Ruth?
- Hmm...
- I've been thinking a lot about that place
since Dad died.
(♪)
- Tell me more about Kampala.
(echoing soft music)
- Who's that? - Our dad, I think.
- Where is he?
- I don't know. Somewhere.
Mama said he was studying to be a man,
but the bitch dropped out.
(soft music)
(laughing)
(indistinct whispering)
(sighs)
- What were you two laughing about?
- Oh, just our secret.
Hey, um...
So, I've been wondering.
Can I plan a get-together?
You know, just a gathering, really, with food and music
and maybe a few words spoken about the people we've lost.
- Yeah, I don't... I don't know. My mother doesn't want
a whole bunch of strangers in our living room.
- Strangers? It wouldn't be a bunch of strangers, Michael.
Just people trying to make sense of things.
- Just let them make sense of things somewhere else.
Alright? I'm sorry.
Won't work.
- Well, you know, this would be good for your mother.
And it would be good for you too.
- We're fine.
Don't tell me what's good for us, Aisha.
- You know your mom is not well, right?
- She's good. - Earlier, when you were at work,
I watched her cross the avenue without even looking.
I had to shout for her to turn and wait.
- She's getting old. - No.
It has nothing to do with age. Michael, you know that.
It's been 10 years. She still can't accept it.
She's stuck.
- She's been doing fine lately.
I don't want to complicate things for her.
No gathering.
(cicadas buzzing)
(electric humming)
(thunder rumbling)
(knocking at door)
Hey, Goose.
- Your mother. I saw her going down into the valley.
She's not wearing shoes.
(soft music)
- Mom.
Hey, come. Come on, put on some shoes.
You okay?
(indistinct radio chatter)
(fly buzzing)
(radio): Temperatures are rising again in Southern Ontario,
with highs in the next few days reaching up to 35 degrees.
As the hot, humid conditions continue...
(indistinct)
(fan rattling)
(sighs)
(fly buzzing)
(high-pitched ringing)
(cheering on radio)
(door opens)
(indistinct sports commentary on television)
(chuckles)
- Feeling alright on this Saturday afternoon,
hope you feel alright across the nation.
Today, we have a very special show,
because we are going to deliver. Right about now,
we're going to call upon the man, DJ Dwayne, baby...
- Is this it?
(cheering on television)
(shuts off television)
- Is this what?
- Is this all you plan on eating today?
- I'm not that hungry.
- What is that?
- It's tinfoil.
- I can see that it's tinfoil, what's it doing there?
- Uh...
Well, I just put it up to reflect the sun.
- Is that what I look like to you?
Uh, like the kind of human who put tinfoil up on our window?
Like the kind of human who advertises tinfoil?!
To everybody passing on the street.
- Well, it's not a bad idea. I mean, other people do it.
- Oh! And I'm other people?
Yet, you sit over there and you look at your mother.
Your own mother and think there she is,
my mother, other people!
(sighs)
You understand the sacrifice I made for you two?
Eh?
(sighs)
(cicadas buzzing)
(sighs)
You hurt yourself?
- It's okay.
- You're touching your face.
- It's just mango juice.
(deep inhale)
- You smell that?
The dill.
(cicadas buzzing)
(♪ Ring The Alarm ♪ by Tenor Saw)
(indistinct chatter)
(hair clipper buzzing)
- You want to get Francis? Isn't that his brother?
- Yeah?
(indistinct)
Yo! Francis! Yo.
(♪)
- Mom made you anything today?
You eat anything today?
- Yeah, I... I ate a little something.
- I'm gonna get you some groceries.
(sighs)
(rhythmic music)
You got the key?
- Yeah.
- Alright.
I'll see you.
Let's go.
- Whose car is this?
(rhythmic music on radio)
- Mine.
Legit.
- What, you bought it?
- Yeah, of course I bought it. How else would I get it?
(♪)
- Are you hungry?
- Yeah.
- What do you feel like?
- I don't know, whatever. - Alright, I'll buy you dinner.
- Alright.
(light chuckle)
- You know, you gotta work on things, man.
- Work on? What do you mean?
- Like, all sorts of things, bro.
(sighs) - Like?
- Okay, like...
Stepping into Desirea's the way you did.
You know?
Like, always looking so fucking unsure.
You gotta...
be cooler about things, man,
and not put everything out on your face all the time.
You gotta carry yourself better, think about your look,
don't matter how poor you are, you can always...
turn up the edge of a collar and style a bit, you know?
Little things like that.
There's always a way to show the world you're not a nobody.
A nigga.
You never know when your break is coming.
Okay?
- Yeah, yeah.
Yeah.
- And I'll take you to see Dad.
- But we don't know our Dad.
- We don't have to know him, he's our father.
- But we don't know anything about him.
Even where he lives.
- I found out he's here in Scarborough.
- How? - I've been asking people.
- For how long? You weren't gonna tell me?
- Okay, I'm telling you now.
- Where in Scarborough?
- In a low-rise called the Oberlin.
It's like North of the highway. - It's too far.
- We've got wheels now.
- No, we can't just show up, Francis.
Okay? It's been too long.
- You see?
That's exactly what I'm talking about.
Not trying stuff. Not believing.
I'm not saying he's gonna solve everything for us.
I'm not stupid.
(coins clanking)
I'm just saying we have a talk, you know?
Why not give it a shot?
- I don't know, Francis.
- Tssk.
Come on, let's go.
(sighs)
(crickets chirping)
Would you relax?
You're freaking me out.
(thunder rumbling)
This is it, 195.
- Let's go, Francis.
- You're not curious?
What's up?
(ringing)
(woman): Hello?
- Sorry.
(clears throat)
(ringing)
(woman): Yeah? Who is this?
- Sorry, wrong number.
- You kids get out of here, you hear me?
- Yeah, sorry.
(clears throat) - You bitches lost?
(ringing)
(man): What?
- Hello?
- I don't want none, whatever you're selling.
- No, I'm not selling anything. It's just me.
It's me.
It's us. Francis and Michael.
- You've got the wrong place.
(beeping)
(soft music)
(tires screeching)
(crickets chirping)
(knocking)
- Hey. - Hey.
My dad's working security tonight, overnight.
Come in. - Alright.
(rhythmic music playing on speakers)
- Do you think he was your dad?
- No.
I don't know.
And I don't care.
- You should ask your mom about your dad.
Maybe she knows where he is.
- I can't upset her.
Not now.
(buttons click)
- Yo.
You good?
- Yeah, I'm good.
- You don't seem good.
(breathing heavily)
(soft music)
(♪)
(keys jangling)
- Hey.
- What is he doing here?
- I didn't think he'd actually show up.
I sent a message to a friend and...
It wasn't even a real invitation,
it was just more of a suggestion that we all meet up.
- Momma don't need this right now.
- I know, he just...
He just showed up while you were out and...
Your mom let him in.
They've been talking.
(sighs)
- This is not a good idea, Aisha.
I don't want my mom disturbed and confused, she's fragile.
- I know. It's only going to be temporary.
You know, your mom is the one who suggested
the mattress, and...
You know, there's room.
And he doesn't really have anywhere else to go.
(sighs)
- Yo.
- Um...
What's up? - What's up?
- You good, Michael?
(indistinct muttering)
- Is that bodi?
- Uh no, just string beans, I couldn't find the bodi.
- We're gonna be ready to eat in a few minutes.
-That right, Jelly? - Yep.
(sizzling)
(clears throat)
(coughing)
Maybe we should open the door a bit?
It must be the scotch burning...
- No. It's okay.
(coughs)
I've got to leave soon anyways.
- Uh... (coughing)
(coughs)
(♪)
(laughing)
(indistinct chatter)
- Yo, hold up, hold up.
Hey, you recognize these guys?
- We should leave.
(chuckling)
- Fuck that.
Nobody enters my shelter.
- What's up, bitch?
Bitch?
(guys chuckling)
Hey?
Hey, just...
(chuckling) - What a little bitch.
- What's up? - What's up?
What's up?
This motherfucking sodomite tells me.
- Hey, fuck off.
- What did you say to him? - What?
(tense music)
You like that? - Hey.
Look, I'm sorry. Alright? Just...
Just relax.
- Yo.
What the fuck?
(♪)
(grunting)
You...
What the fuck?
Fucking crazy.
- Yo.
Francis?
Francis!
(rhythmic music playing on speakers)
(lively chatter)
- Michael. Hey, I can explain, okay?
It's... it's fine. Michael. Michael!
- Hey! - I'm so sorry.
Michael, please! Okay, Michael please,
just let me explain.
- Michael, hey.
(indistinct)
Michael?
(clattering)
Michael! We were listening to music, we were talking!
- I warned you about strangers.
- These are just my friends, Michael.
They know the story and just want to pay their respect.
- I don't want their fucking respect.
I want them out of my fucking house.
- Michael, stop it! - I want everybody out!
Get out! Now! Get out of my house!
Get the fuck out! - What's wrong with you?
- Come on!
(indistinct whispering)
- I'll take care of this.
- I'm sorry, thank you so much for coming.
(♪)
(music stops)
(heavy breathing)
(soft music plays)
♪ Now I know we have great respect ♪
♪ For the sister and mother ♪
♪ It's even better yet ♪
♪ But there's the joker in the street ♪
♪ Loving one brother and killing the other ♪
♪ When the time comes and we are really free ♪
♪ There'll be no brothers left you see ♪
♪ We people who are darker than blue ♪
♪ Don't let us hang around this town ♪
♪ And let what others say come true ♪
♪ We're just good for nothing they all figure ♪
♪ A boyish grown up shiftless jigger ♪
♪ Now we can't hardly stand for that ♪
♪ Or is that really where it's at ♪
(door opens)
(sighs)
- Do you know this place?
The statue of this woman.
- No.
- This is Nanny of the Maroons.
I didn't know anything about her until I went to Jamaica.
She led a guerilla war against her colonial masters.
A fierce woman.
An outlaw.
My dad lived just a short walk from that statue
but he never told me anything about her.
He told me so little of his past.
He never explained to me why he worked his whole life
as a gardener and then as a security guard.
And even his cancer was something that I had
to learn way too late from a nurse.
(sighs)
How our immigrant parents cleaned toilets,
took care of other people's fucking kids,
took shit all day, struggled with rent,
were chronically tired,
all for us.
- I remember Mom talking about my father a few times.
The first time was around Christmas.
The one before Francis died.
- You didn't leave any for yourself?
- Oh, I'm not even hungry. Eat up.
I wanna talk about Christmas.
It's gonna be a little quiet this year.
Nice meal but no gifts.
It's the economy.
I'll get a new job in the new year,
hopefully with some overtime.
(She hums.)
Grow up, Francis, be a man.
Don't be a bitch like your father.
- Look, I'm...
I'm sorry I got angry, I get what you were trying to do.
I should've warned you that we have to go slow with my Mom.
It's not easy for her.
(dancing music playing on speakers)
- Yo, welcome, welcome!
(chuckles)
Come on in, pretty thing. - Thank you.
- ID, please. - Fuck off, Dru.
- Oh, yeah? Better watch your fucking language.
(chuckling)
- Yo!
(exclaiming)
- What's up, little brother, you good?
- Yeah, I'm good. Do you remember Aisha?
- I remember Aisha. Hey, do I know your pops?
- My dad?
- Yeah, he's got good music tastes.
And not a half bad singing voice either.
- How would you possibly know that?
- Listen, I just know things.
I know everything that happens in the Waldorf!
- Okay. - Hey, welcome to Desirea's.
(chuckling)
- What's this? - Oh, you didn't know?
They're doing auditions. You could get a record deal.
Jelly's gonna audition.
It's time to take the stage, shine, represent.
I'm his producer.
- Alright, alright.
(rhythmic music)
(cheering)
(air horns honking)
(indistinct exclaiming)
(indistinct chanting)
- Who are you?
(♪)
(chuckling)
(♪ I Know You Got Soul ♪ by Eric B. & Rakim)
(♪)
(laughing)
(soft rhythmic music)
(knocking) - Open the door!
- Oh, shit.
- Third time this week since Anton got killed.
(indistinct radio chatter)
- Okay, whoa, whoa, what seems to be the problem, officer?
- Conrad's Bar was robbed at gunpoint four blocks from here.
Two Black subjects were last seen running down Warrens Ave.
Anyone here seen anything?
- We haven't seen anything, officers.
- Alright, everyone stand up against the counter
and keep your hands where we can see them, empty your pockets.
Let's go, let's go.
- You too, genius.
- Yo, don't touch him!
- Excuse-me?
(sigh)
Okay, search them.
(heavy breathing)
(tense music)
Okay, alright, alright, enough. Let's go, come on.
Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen.
Thank you for your time.
- Thank you, officer.
(cicadas buzzing)
(electric humming)
- Whoa...
- Good? - Yeah, yeah.
I'm good. Just keep going.
- Alright.
I'll see you at the top, baby brother.
(electric humming)
- Whoo!
(chuckling)
- Let's go!
You okay? - I'm good.
- You ready? - Born ready, baby.
Born ready, baby! Whoo!
(exclaiming)
- What's up?
(overlapping chatter)
- Is it time to go in yet?
- Soon.
- So we're ready now?
- Relax, you'll get your turn.
- Hey, you're next. They're good to go in.
- Okay, superstars, you're in next.
- Yeah? - You're going in.
- Yeah? - Yeah!
- Scarborough in the house!
(exclaiming)
- Gentlemen, whenever you're ready.
Let's see what you've got.
(rhythmic music)
- Come on Jelly, you got this, baby.
Show them where you from, baby, let's go!
(♪)
♪ I ain't no joke ♪
♪ Too Black Too strong ♪
(light applause)
- Alright man, that was pretty dope.
That was off the chain.
Like you're finally waking my ass up.
Can't say the same for my partner here,
but I like the way you was cutting up
them ones and twos, man.
Good record sources you got, you've got some real talent.
Anyway, keep the peace.
And stay in school, man. Thank you.
Next!
- Wanna hear some more from him or...?
- We're good, man. No, thank you.
- You know, he could do another set really quick. You know?
- No, thank you.
We've got another group waiting.
- Um, so, you'll let us know if we win, right?
- Yeah kid, we'll uh, definitely call you.
Okay.
So...
That means the audition's over,
and you guys have to get the fuck out of here.
- Alright, hey, Francis, come on. Let's go.
(city hubbub)
You did really good, Jelly.
- Yeah, yeah man, for sure.
Listen uh, we're still gonna celebrate, alright?
I'm gonna meet you out back at Desirea's, cool?
Want me to take that?
- Yeah.
- Got you, brother. - Appreciate you.
- I have to go home and I'm gonna get
a ride back with Dru.
But I'll see you tomorrow, okay?
- Francis, you good, bro?
Hey, Scarborough, man.
See you, alright?
- Yo, their set up was fucked up, man.
Turn tables were too high.
They didn't give us enough time.
Yo, how are they even gonna contact us?
Anybody see them take any numbers down?
I'm gonna talk to the promoter.
Hey, I need to talk to the promoter.
- Sorry, guy, we're closed.
- We just need to talk to the promoter.
- You didn't hear me, you're not getting in.
- You're not listening to me.
We were just in there performing.
Auditioning.
- Oh, you were performing. - Yeah.
- Doing your thing with your homies here,
with your niggas.
- Alright, we're going in, alright?
We're going in. - I don't think so, nigga.
- Alright, come on Francis, let's go.
- Yeah, Francis.
Why don't you listen to your little bitch here?
(blow landing)
(grunting)
(echoing thump)
(screaming)
- Stop!
Stop!
Stop! That's my brother, please stop!
(indistinct shouting)
(dramatic music)
(birds chirping)
(door opens and closes)
(city hubbub)
(cars honking)
- Michael! Michael, wake up. There's been an accident.
- What? - Your Mom.
Jelly's with her.
- Francis! Francis!
(panting)
Come on, get up! Get up!
- We've gotta take him to a hospital.
- No hospital. - Just take us home.
Mom! Mom!
- Francis?
- Mom... - Francis,
what happened?
- I'm sorry, Mom, I'm sorry for everything.
- I'm gonna get you help.
- I'm sorry for being a shitty son.
I'm sorry for disappointing you and breaking your heart.
I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to.
- Alright, it's alright.
Sit down. Shh...
Come here, baby, it's alright.
Come, sit down. Sit down, baby.
I'm not leaving you. I promise you.
Mama's here now, I'm not leaving you, I promise.
I'm just gonna get you something,
some gaze, some ointment, I'm not leaving you.
- Is she okay? - Yeah.
She's gonna get you cleaned up, okay?
- I'm sorry, man. - It's alright, it's okay.
Just stay right here, alright? Stay right here.
Mom! Mom, hey, look at me, look at me.
It's gonna be alright.
- Yes, it will.
Francis? Fran--
Michael. - Okay.
(panting)
Francis! Francis,
why did you leave?
Come on, let's go home, okay?
Mom wants you to come home, come on, let's go home.
- Take me to Desirea's.
- Okay, let's go to Desirea's alright?
Almost there.
Hey, help! Help!
- Give me a fresh towel.
Come on, sit him down. - What happened?
What happened? - Easy, home boy, easy.
- This shit happened at the audition?
- He needs to go to a hospital.
- I'm not going to no damn hospital.
- Francis, Francis! - You have to sit.
- Sit down! - You have to sit.
- Please, please sit down.
(groans) - What's your problem, Francis?
You need to calm the fuck down!
- Look at you. (scoffs)
(panting)
All of you.
Fucking...
Fucking losers.
(chuckling)
Fucking...
Fucking nobodies.
Just dreaming.
- Francis. - You know?
Just dreaming.
(soft music)
There's no way forward.
No way out, you know.
Just dreaming.
- Hey, hey.
- Francis, can you please just sit down?
Just sit down.
Please. Just come and sit down.
- Don't even hurt, bro.
- Francis, you gotta let me clean it up.
Just let me clean up the wound. Give me some alcohol.
Gotta let me clean you up.
(sighs)
(door opens)
Hey, whoa. Can we help you, gentlemen?
- Yeah, we're responding to a call about a fight.
- Well, we didn't see any fight, thank you, officer.
- Yeah, what happened to him? - He fell.
He got injured and we're handling it.
(sighs)
- Alright, let's see everyone's ID.
Up against the counter, you know the drill. Come on.
- Let's go. - Come on!
- Let's go.
- No, hey. Fuck this. Fuck this.
- You three, stand apart. - He's hurt, we're helping him.
- We'll handle that, you do as we say.
(indistinct radio chatter)
- What do we do?
(chuckling)
- You sit back down! - Francis!
Francis, listen to them, just do it. Just do it.
- Tell me what I did. I'm not a criminal.
- Just stay where you are and don't move any closer.
- Francis, go.
- Think I'm crazy?
You think I'm dangerous?
- I think I want you to sit back down, sir.
- Whoa, whoa, whoa!
- Don't call me sir.
Don't fucking pretend.
You answer my question.
You give me an explanation.
- Do what he says! - Francis, please.
Please.
(chuckling)
Francis, Francis.
- No.
No. - Francis!
- It's happening today.
Today.
Gonna tell me what I've done? - Don't move.
(indistinct) - Don't touch him!
(gunshot)
(sighs)
(solemn music)
(indistinct voice on television)
(♪)
(music stops)
(sighs)
(clanking)
- Mom.
(objects crashing)
Mom!
(clattering)
- It's such a mess.
Who keep their home in such a mess?
- Mom. Mom, please.
Please, just give me the hammer. Mom, please.
Just give me the hammer. Give me the hammer.
Just let go. Let it go, let it go.
Mom, let it go.
I have it, I have it. Just let go.
Mom. Just let go.
(sobbing)
Let go, just let go. I got it. I got it...
Just let it go. Let it go. Let it go...
(sobbing)
- He wasn't safe, he wasn't safe.
He wasn't safe.
(sobbing)
I couldn't protect him.
I couldn't protect my son.
I couldn't protect Francis.
(panting)
He wasn't safe.
(sobbing)
- It's okay.
(knocking at door)
Now's not a good time.
- It hasn't been a good time for two weeks now.
Michael...
I brought you and your mom some food.
(door shuts)
How is your mom doing?
- She's sleeping. I can't talk too long.
I don't want anything to disturb her.
- How are you?
- I'm fine.
- I tried to contact the guys from Desirea's.
- Yeah, you can read it in the papers.
Police investigated.
Bring in witnesses, me and Mom.
The shooting they say was lawful.
But all he had was his wallet.
And our mom's old Jamaican passport.
- Most of the guys have disappeared.
Jelly's gone.
- I uh...
I gotta look in on my mom.
I'll come by and see you soon.
(door opens)
- Michael, we still need to talk.
- Yeah, we will.
- This can't be the end.
- Bye, Aisha.
(♪)
(sighs)
(soft music)
(hospital hubbub)
- Mr. Joseph? Your mother is fine,
aside from bruised ribs and a hairline fracture.
There's nothing else wrong with her.
You can see your mother now.
(phones ringing in the distance)
(sirens blaring in the distance)
(sighs)
- Hey.
(sigh)
(sobbing)
(clears throat)
(exhales)
♪ Ne me quitte pas ♪
♪ Il faut oublier ♪
♪ Tout peut s'oublier ♪
♪ Qui s'enfuit déjà ♪
♪ Oublier le temps Des malentendus ♪
♪ Et le temps perdu ♪
♪ A savoir comment ♪
♪ Oublier ces heures Qui tuaient parfois ♪
♪ A coups de pourquoi Le coeur du bonheur ♪
♪ Ne me quitte pas ♪
♪ Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas ♪
♪ Ne me quitte pas ♪
♪ Moi je t'offrirai ♪
♪ Des perles de pluie Venues de pays ♪
♪ Où il ne pleut pas ♪
♪ Je creuserai la terre Jusqu'après ma mort ♪
♪ Pour couvrir ton corps d'or et de lumière ♪
♪ Je ferai un domaine Où l'amour sera roi ♪
♪ Où l'amour sera loi Où tu seras reine ♪
♪ Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas ♪
♪ Ne me quitte pas ♪
(♪)
♪ Ne me quitte pas ♪
♪ Je t'inventerai ♪
♪ Des mots insensés Que tu comprendras ♪
♪ Je te parlerai ♪
♪ De ces amants-là Qui ont vu deux fois ♪
♪ Leurs coeurs s'embraser ♪
♪ Je te raconterai L'histoire de ce roi ♪
♪ Mort de n'avoir pas pu te rencontrer ♪
♪ Ne me quitte pas ♪
♪ Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas ♪
♪ Ne me quitte pas ♪
♪ On a vu souvent Rejaillir le feu ♪
♪ De l'ancien volcan Qu'on croyait trop vieux ♪
♪ Il est parait-il Des terres brulées ♪
♪ Donnant plus de blé Qu'un meilleur avril ♪
♪ Et quand vient le soir Pour qu'un ciel flamboie ♪
♪ Le rouge et le noir Ne s'épousent-ils pas ♪
♪ Ne me quitte pas ♪
♪ Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas ♪
♪ Ne me quitte pas ♪
(soft music)