Sweet Sweetback's Baad Asssss Song
INT. BROTHEL - ONCE UPON A TIME IN LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
WOMEN lined up like sort of a feminine wild bunch, dressed in housecoats, the
classic garment of their profession. The time is middle World War II, circa
1943-44. Each whore is gazing downward with a shy almost maternal look on her
face.
A filthy, half-starved nappy headed BOY hunches over a kitchen table gobbling
food from a plate. He steals a fugitive glance up at the ladies as if he
fears being struck or his food taken away, then goes back to eating.
CUT TO:
SWEETBACK -- running. We hear the SQUEAL of brakes on a train RUMBLING by.
SUPERIMPOSED on the screen is a quote in both French and English:
"...Sire, ceci n'est pas une ôde à la brutalité
que l'artiste aurait investé, mais un hymnee
sorti de la bouche de la realité..."
(Incantation traditionelle du moyenage)
"...Sire, these lines are not a homage to brutality
that the artist has invented, but a hymn
from the mouth of reality ..."
(Traditional prologue of the dark ages)
As the words FADE from the screen, SWEETBACK turns to look behind him and the
image FREEZES. A police siren WAILS. A new SUPERIMPOSITION appears and we
ZOOM in on it:
This film is dedicated
to all the Brothers and
Sisters who had enough
of the Man
CUT TO:
THE BOY, still glancing nervously at the women and snarfing down his food as
if eating were going out of style.
An eerie ethereal MUSIC suggests that this is a FLASHBACK to Sweetback's
youth. One of the women, with an ample bosom, brings the pot from the stove
and refills his plate -- the spoon she uses KNOCKS and CLANGS loudly against
both plate and pot, lending a further air of unreality to the scene. She pats
the boy on the shoulder and moves off. The women nod and smile warmly at the
boy and one another. The large bosomed woman refills the plate again. The boy
never stops eating. We PAN OFF him and across the faces of the women, still
smiling maternally.
CUT TO:
INT. THE BROTHEL - ANOTHER DAY
One of the whores, tall and thin, is washing herself from her basin, half
squatting and half standing, with one leg propped on a chair. Her door is
ajar and the boy, the same one who was at the kitchen table but now cleaned
up and healthy looking, walks past with a load of towels. The woman goes to
the door. She watches the boy place a towel at her neighbor's door and looks
around, seeing that the hall is empty except for her and the boy. She calls
him.
WHORE
Come here.
He pauses, surprised, as she disappears into her room.
When he enters the room she is standing by the bed, taking off her robe.
WHORE
Close the door.
She sits on the bed waiting.
WHORE
Close the door...
He closes the door and she takes the towels from him and starts to unbutton
his shirt. After a moment, he helps her to get his shirt and pants off. She
smiles and nods at him reassuringly. The boy undresses. She puts her hands on
his waist and lays back on the bed, pulling him on top of her. They stare
into each others' eyes for a moment before she removes his cap and throws it
aside. She looks at him with warmth and mischievousness.
He lays there immobile.
Pause...
The boy is still immobile. An unseen gospel chorus starts singing "Wade in
the Water" ...
WHORE
You ain't at the photographer's. You ain't
gettin' your picture taken... Move...
Pause... and then the boy's back begins to move. We dissolve and intercut
between the boy's back and her face. The gospel chorus sings a version of
"This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine..."
The boy is a natural. He watches with considerable interest as her expression
changes to surprise, then to intensity all the time the back is going. Then
her expression changes to ecstasy and total surrendering.
She screams ...
WHORE
(Moans)
Oh, God.
The singing stops.
WHORE
Oh, son. Oh, you got a sweet, you got a sweet,
sweetback!
The image FREEZES and the funk takes over as the main title flashes on:
SWEET SWEETBACK'S
BAAD ASSSSS SONG
The credits continue ("Starring THE BLACK COMMUNITY and BRER SOUL"),
superimposed over montage of shots of Young Sweetback and the whore, city
traffic, and the Adult Sweetback's legs running.
WHORE
Oh, that's hot... Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, son,
you, son.
The gospel music returns as we find that while the whore has not aged a day,
SWEETBACK, having lost his cherry, is now a man. This adult Sweetback looks
at the whore, puts his cap back on, and begins to get up off the exhausted,
but supremely satisfied woman.
We hear APPLAUSE and CUT TO:
INT. BROTHEL - NIGHT - CIRCUS SCENE
A small audience APPLAUDS heartily.
A freak show is going on in the living room. A dingy red carpet has been
placed in the center of the room to imply a stage, and strangely enough, it
works. We have the impression we are watching theatre; not as it is now, but
as it once might have been, a morality play or something like that out of the
Middle Ages. The pageant play unfolds entirely in mime. A shapely woman in a
short dress with a Bride-of-Frankenstein-streaked Afro enters carrying an
oversized flower, humming a tune. She puts a finger to her mouth, all
innocence, as she strolls through a park. She kneels and cradles her large
flower, rocking it like a baby. A bearded man, in a suit and hat and carrying
a cane, enters with a goofy walk and approaches her. He propositions her but
she shakes her head, no. He holds out a hand persuasively and she accepts.
They stroll the park together, arm in arm. She sniffs her flower. He tries to
put his arm around her but she pulls it away. The audience chuckles a bit at
some of this.
Meanwhile, in the hall (lit by red lights), the boss of the house, a short,
grotesque, very black man called BEATLE, is arguing with two white
plainclothesmen, arguing that is, as much as a black man operating outside
the law can argue with white men supposedly representing the law, which
isn't, of course, very much.
Seems there was a disturbance out in front of Beatle's the night before and
some corpse had the inconsideration to be found on his doorstep. It is the
beat of the two white detectives and they are supposed to be conducting an
investigation. Fortunately, the corpse had been a black man. The
plainclothesmen know the whole thing will quickly blow over... yet still,
keeping abreast of the times, at least a show of concern had to be made for
the poor departed brother.
DETECTIVE #1
(to Beatle)
Besides, we're getting a lot of static from the
commissioner about that stiff we found
yesterday, you know what I mean?
The play continues in the living room. The bearded man, having apparently
lured the woman to his room, tries to turn on an imaginary phonograph.
Beatle, distracted by the police, sees that he's missed his cue and puts the
needle on a nearby phonograph record. As the MUSIC begins, Beatle resumes
his, um, discussion with the plainclothesmen.
BEATLE
We don't know nothin' about no dead man.
DETECTIVE #2
We know that but the commissioner doesn't. We
just want to borrow one of your boys for a
couple of hours and take him downtown to make
us look good, official-wise.
BEATLE
Why me? I'm short one man already. George is
sick...
DETECTIVE #2
You're our friend. We knew you'd be willing to
lend a hand.
BEATLE
When did you people start getting so interested
in black folks... dead or alive?
DETECTIVE #1
Progress.
Detective #1 moves to see how the play is progressing. The bearded man has
now stripped off his suit jacket and white shirt to reveal a bra -- he is, in
fact, a she: a lesbian who takes the shocked woman in her arms and dances with
her. The woman shakes her head vigorously. The lesbian dips her to the floor,
laying her on her back. The plainclothesmen watch the woman stripped of her
clothes and the lesbian going down on her, as Beatle addresses them.
BEATLE
I can't, I'm short... I only got two guys
working now... Donald to explain, Sweetback to
train, and the two of 'em to trounce and
bounce.
The lesbian makes love to the woman who is quickly won over. They simulate
sex and the woman's legs flail happily in the air. The crowd enjoys itself,
applauding, smiling, laughing, flashing peace signs.
DETECTIVE #2
We got a nice understanding, Beatle.
BEATLE
It's mutual. Everybody profits.
DETECTIVE #2
Let's keep it that way.
The exhausted woman finally falls asleep, the lesbian rolls from beside her
and kneels on the dingy carpet. She folds her hands and begins to pray. The
lights go off abruptly in the living room. Some of the women spectators
squeal. Then something appears in the center of the stage spotted with a
flashlight. It sports an outlandish costume, a white frilly dress, perhaps
from some long ago ball or wedding, a garland of plastic flowers on its head,
cardboard wings and a Fourth of July sparkler as a wand. It turns full
circle.
GOOD DYKE FAIRY GODMOTHER
I'm the good dyke fairy godmother. Yes, the
good dyke fairy godmother. Why didn't you know
that all good dykes have fairy godmothers?
(audience laughs)
And I'm here to answer the prayers ...
of a good dyke.
(audience laughs harder)
Yes, the good dyke fairy godmother. Didn't you
know that all good dykes have fairy godmothers?
And I'm here to answer the prayers of a good
dyke.
It touches the lesbian with the wand.
GOOD DYKE FAIRY GODMOTHER
Zap, child.
And the lesbian, removing bra and beard, turns into a man -- it's Sweetback
-- and stands up. The people lean forward -- applauding, giggling and
screeching -- catching glimpses of Sweetback's penis. Even though the cops
have seen the number a thousand times, they always end up drifting across the
hall standing in the living room doorway trying to look casual. The lights
come back on.
BEATLE
Why me? I'm short-handed as it is ... George
is sick.
On the carpet, the woman awakens, sees Sweetback, and, overjoyed at the
transformation, they make love once again. The crowd watches with delight as
the two grind away.
CROWD
Come on baby, Sweetback.
Come on girl.
Clean on down to the bone.
Do it, do it do it.
Jelly, jelly, jelly!
You got it, Sweetback.
You got it brother.
You cool, Sweetback.
Different strokes for different folks.
DETECTIVE #1
[?] one of the other boys...We'll have him back
for you before tomorrow noon.
The sex is over and Sweetback starts to get up off the exhausted but
supremely satisfied woman. The Good Dyke Fairy Godmother pats Sweetback on
his sweet back and raises his arm up as if he'd just won a championship
fight.
GOOD DYKE FAIRY GODMOTHER
Ha ha! Now Sweetback here's the greatest!
(audience applauds)
Greatest in the world.
(audience laughs)
Oh, I know what the hell you're thinking. Ha...
How many times have I heard that before? Well,
as a special added attraction, if one of you
young ladies would like to step up and try
this gentleman, I'm sure you'll find him more
than lively.
A skinny white girl, itching to take advantage of the Good Dyke Fairy
Godmother's offer stands up but her date pulls her back in her seat.
She snatches her arm away and starts to get up again and take off her dress.
The frozen expressions on the white cops who exchange unbelieving glances are
counterpointed by Beatle who shakes his head insistently at the Good Dyke
Fairy Godmother. The Good Dyke Fairy Godmother catches on and saves the
situation:
GOOD DYKE FAIRY GODMOTHER
But, uh, that is to say, uh, however...
(stops the white girl
from removing her dress)
... you know, this offer is only open to, um...
sisters?
The crowd laughs, the white cops burst into smiles. They turn and exchanging
broad smiles with Beatle.
DETECTIVE #2
(to Beatle)
Ounce of prevention ...
Beatle's smile fades.
DETECTIVE #2
... is worth a pound of sniffin' around.
BEATLE
(calls down the hall)
Hey!
GOOD DYKE FAIRY GODMOTHER
(to the audience)
That's all, folks.
Beatle gives an order to one of the girls.
BEATLE
When Sweetback gets dressed, tell him I want to
see him.
Meanwhile, a heavy-set lady fans herself with a spray of flowers as
Sweetback's conquest returns to the living room for a standing ovation from
the audience.
MINUTES LATER
In the red lit hallway, Beatle stands with the cops waiting for Sweetback. We
PAN from Beatle's nervously tapping toe to the cops' flat feet to Sweetback's
shoes. We PAN UP to reveal him standing with hands clutched discreetly before
him. He is sharply dressed, sharp as a rat turd as the expression goes, a rat
turd having the distinction of being pointed on both ends. His outfit
pinpoints his status exactly: black pants and vest, cream-colored sports
jacket, topped off with a black felt copy of a banana plantation overseer's
straw sombrero, in short, a young up and coming small-time big shot. His
clothes fit beautifully but the expression on his face seems out of place.
Something about him makes people uneasy. It's impossible to be sure what his
stare hides; some would say intelligence, some would say sensuality, some say
stupidity, some meanness. Anyway, everyone's first thought is to try to get
on his good side.
The cops and Beatle turn to look at him.
BEATLE
Go with these gentlemen for the evening. See
you tomorrow.
Sweetback glances from Beatle to the cops and steps forward with uncertainty.
EXT. PATROL CAR - NIGHT
The cops flank Sweetback as they walk down a dark street to a parked police
car.
DETECTIVE #2
Hell of a show you guys put on.
Sweetback says not a word. Detective #1 opens the rear door of the car for
Sweetback who gets in. The Detective #2 joins him in the back seat. Detective
#1 sits in front.
IN THE PATROL CAR
DETECTIVE #1
We aren't going to use the handcuffs.
DETECTIVE #2
Just like we told Beatle. Just a little
eye-wash.
The detective sitting next to Sweetback grins in agreement and the other
offers Sweetback a smoke.
DETECTIVE #1
Cigarette?
Sweetback shakes his head.
They drive through the night. City lights play against their faces as they
ride along. Suddenly the radio breaks the silence.
RADIO
Calling W2, calling W2.
DETECTIVE #1
Read you loud and clear.
RADIO
Proceed to Unit 1. Crenshaw, Sector 2. Back up
ten, W4. Community disturbance, possible 415
developing.
DETECTIVE #2
Step on it.
DETECTIVE #1
(into radio mike)
Roger.
The car's siren WAILS. We see advertising lights in the darkness. Detective #1
spins the wheel and the car's tires SQUEAL around a corner.
EXT. STREET - NEAR RIOT
A shootout has begun between a patrol and some militants. The two
plainclothesmen are the first reinforcements to arrive on the scene. They
drive up and park around the corner from the battle. Hopping out, they
handcuff Sweetback to the door.
DETECTIVE #1
I got the cuffs...
(to Sweetback)
It's just for appearance sake. We don't want
anyone to come around here and find you just
sitting here.
DETECTIVE #2
Don't go away.
Guns drawn, the detectives rush toward the action, disappearing around the
corner. Sweetback can hear crowd noises and shooting but he can't see what is
going on. A few moments later, the detectives and two plainclothes colleagues
dash from around the corner with a young black prisoner in tow. The crowd can
be heard yelling protests, etc., in background.
CROWD
Take your hands off him, jive police, jive
police. How would you like somebody coming into
your neighborhood?
DETECTIVE
(to the prisoner)
You must be the ringleader.
DETECTIVE #3
Come on, let's get him out of here before a
crowd forms.
They put the young man, Moo-Moo, in the back seat next to Sweetback and
handcuff them together. The two detectives pull back and away from the curb
before skidding off.
But they don't drive directly to the station.
THE DRIVE
Moo-Moo and Sweetback's faces peer from the back seat. We TRACK through the
city at night, past neon lit shops, stores, newsstands, signs advertising
dancing girls, fountains, skyscrapers ...
DETECTIVE #1
(to Moo-Moo)
You been stirring up the natives, kid?
A red sign reminds us that "JESUS SAVES" ...
IN THE PATROL CAR
The detectives contemplate the universe.
DETECTIVE #2
Nice night.
DETECTIVE #1
Yeah.
DETECTIVE #2
Nice night for a drive.
DETECTIVE #1
A little walk, too, maybe.
Moo-Moo and Sweetback don't like the sound of that.
The image of the detective at the wheel FREEZES and, to the accompaniment of
industrial-strength grinding noises, we suddenly
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. OIL WELLS - A PSYCHEDELIC VIEW
[NOTE: In South Los Angeles, there are a series of pumps that have been
beautified up in the interest of civic mindedness to resemble grasshoppers.
Big plastic eyes, the size of Volkswagen hubcaps have been fastened on the
head and steel rods have been welded on for antennas.]
The cops have pulled behind the most secluded oil pump and pulled Moo-Moo and
Sweetback from the car. The foursome walk along in the dark.
DETECTIVE #1
All right, why don't you step out over here.
Get some fresh air. That's better. Looky,
here...
(to Detective #2)
He doesn't look very tough to me, does he look
tough to you?
DETECTIVE #2
Naw, not too tough.
They begin to beat Moo-Moo. The first blow, to the stomach, makes a nice
industrial-strength grinding sound, exactly like the oil wells.
DETECTIVE #2
(to Detective #1)
Be careful. Don't mark his face.
DETECTIVE #1
Oh no, no. I'm not gonna hurt his face.
All right.
Sweetback, like a black Buster Keaton, looks on blankly. They can't beat
Moo-Moo too well because he and Sweetback are shackled together. Still, it's
a brutal beating with the two cops taking turns:
DETECTIVE #2
My serve!
DETECTIVE #1
I think he's drunk.
Moo-Moo can barely stand.
DETECTIVE #2
(to Moo-Moo)
Stay on your feet.
DETECTIVE #1
You're a tough man.
Sweetback looks the other way.
DETECTIVE #2
Hey, wait a second.
The detective stops, realizes that Sweetback is still chained to the half-
conscious Moo-Moo, and pulls out his keys to unlock the cuffs.
DETECTIVE #2
(genuinely sorry for
the inconvenience)
Hey, Sweetback. I'm sorry, man. Forgot you
two were attached together. Let's see if we
can't get a little air between ya.
While his partner props up Moo-Moo, he unleashes Sweetback and leads him away.
DETECTIVE #2
(politely, to Sweetback)
There. You step away there. That's better,
isn't it?
Sweetback watches uneasily as they begin to work Moo-Moo over in earnest.
DETECTIVE #2
Let's see this militant. You don't look too
tough now. If you stayed home at night, you
wouldn't get into all this trouble, would you...
Come on, stand up straight ... What's the matter
with you, you drunk?
DETECTIVE #1
He looks like a sniper to me.
The oil pump bobs up and down evilly.
Moo Moo groans.
Sweetback stands quietly back with his arms at his sides -- the empty
handcuff dangles from his wrist.
Suddenly the pattern of Sweetback's destiny changes.
The cops have their backs to him.
He gazes at them bending over Moo-Moo, working him over.
He grips the free handcuff like a pair of lethal brass knuckles.
And attacks the cops.
He is so swift and sure, it is over in a moment: they never even realize what
hit them.
They fall unconscious and out of view. Sweetback kicks them again and again.
He beats them with the handcuff, his blows rise and fall slowly, intensely,
in time with the oil pump, again and again and again.
His hand is bloodied.
He gives them one last kick, his anger spent.
He helps the semi-conscious Moo-Moo to sit up. Moo-Moo tries to express his
gratitude.
MOO-MOO
Thanks, man.
Sweetback nods, almost imperceptibly.
MOO-MOO
Where we goin'?
Sweetback is his old noncommittal self.
SWEETBACK
Where d'you get that "we" shit?
CUT TO:
CHROMATIC PSYCHEDELIC VIEWS of the oil wells and, as the MUSIC kicks in,
Sweetback running -- alone. He has split the scene -- and abandoned Moo-Moo
-- emerging from the spooky psychedelia into the cold light of day:
SWEETBACK RUNNING - DAY
Jacket off, Sweetback runs through a field, down a road, over a bridge.
The accompanying MUSIC crashes to a halt as we
CUT TO:
INT. BROTHEL - DAY
Near noon the next day, a raiding party of cops CRASH through a door and
charge through Beatle's Brothel. For the occupants it is the middle of the
night, everyone had been asleep.
The whores scream as the cops bust into the rooms, searching.
The last room they come in is Beatle's. Beatle is in bed with a cat in one
arm and a rabbit in the other and a stocking cap on his head. Beatle sits up
in an obviously innocent and surprised manner, as only a black man can.
CUT TO:
EXT. MONTAGE
Sweetback runs: down by the airport, in the streets, slowing to a walk at the
sight of cop cars, looking around warily at the sound of sirens WAILING, on
sidewalks and city streets, near roads and highways, past overpasses and off-
ramps, struggling up a hill, cautiously poking his head out from behind a
wall next to an orange sign which reads: CAUTION.
EXT. BROTHEL - DAY
Beatle's place. Sweetback walks the neighborhood, watching the house for the
right moment to enter.
INT. BROTHEL - NIGHT
Beatle emerges from the shower to grab a towel, a goofy multi-hued shower cap
on his head. He sees Sweetback and exclaims:
BEATLE
Sweetback!
Beatle starts drying himself off. His is not the prettiest bod in California,
to put it mildly. Glad to see Sweetback, he starts talking to him. Sweetback
never says a word.
BEATLE
Yeah. Oh, hang loose, baby.
(ties towel around his waist)
Yeah. We gotta chop a skoch, you know. I'm
gonna lay it on ya, hmmm, Sweetback, baby!
Beatle puts his arms up to give Sweetback a hug but Sweetback does not
respond. Cold as ice, in fact. Beatle backs away, tight-lipped, a little
nervous.
BEATLE
Good, yeah. Looking good.
Beatle goes to the open toilet seat and sits down for a little voiding.
BEATLE
Yeah, baby, you gonna have to be awful cool.
Cause what you do reflects on all the rest of
our little employees. We can't have that 'cause
we got a good operation goin' here. Being in
public relations, a nice little business.
Beatle pauses to take some toilet paper and wipe his ass. He rises, flushes,
moves to check himself in a mirror and rubs his face with a cloth.
BEATLE
Yeah, man.
(points to Sweetback)
You don't have to worry about nothin'. I'm
Beatle, me, Beatle, I'm your man. Everybody
got a man. I'm your man; [It's] rough now.
Don't worry about it, baby. Don't worry about
it.
Beatle pauses fill a glass with water from the tap. He gargles, loudly. Then
spits into the sink. Sweetback just keeps staring at him.
BEATLE
(off the gargling)
That make me feel like a new one, baby. Can you
dig it? A brand new one.
(smiles broadly)
Yeah.
(smile fades)
But you know what, man?
Beatles sprays deodorant in his pits and continues with his crazed pep talk.
BEATLE
Like you gonna have to kinda lay out, stretch
out a little while, be real cool. Kinda lay
dead. Ol' Beatle'll let you know what's
happenin', what's goin' down. You don't have
to worry about nothin'. If you need anything,
anything at all, brother, just keep the faith
in Beatle, ol' Beatle goin' to bring you
through, cause this is just a skirmish. You
know how the game goes, baby. But you keep the
faith in me and you my man. You my favorite man.
Can you dig it, baby? Together, you know,
maintain. They can't bother you as long as
Beatle's with you. Now you go on and hibernate
like that ol' bear and don't go nowhere, can
you dig it? Yeah? Ha! Mellow. Go out the back
door, now. Speed along and don't let nobody
know where you at. Let sleeping dogs rest. You
dig it, baby? Ha, ha, yeah.
CUT TO:
EXT. BROTHEL - DAY
Coat over his arm, Sweetback steps out on the back porch and pauses at the
sight of something. We ZOOM IN on him twice before he starts reluctantly down
the steps.
A uniformed cop, with a hand on his holstered gun, accompanies Sweetback over
to a corner of the yard where another cop waits.
The cops still handle him kindly, almost apologetically. Seems that the two
plainclothesmen Sweetback jumped and beat up by the oil pump are still in
comas and haven't talked yet. Everyone assumes Sweetback was more or less an
innocent bystander to Moo-Moo's attack and escape.
Sweetback and the cops sit down for a friendly chat:
COP #1
(to Sweetback)
You were in the car.
COP #2
Were you still in the car, Sweetback?
COP #1
How many men were in the ambush?
COP #2
How'd they work it?
COP #1
You know they're still unconscious.
COP #2
Come on, they were your friends too.
COP #1
Do you know where Moo-Moo might be?
COP #2:
We can't figure out what they used to beat
them with.
COP
Here, give me your coat.
The cop takes Sweetback's coat from off his arm. The image FREEZES for a
brief moment as they look down and see the handcuffs dangling from
Sweetback's wrist, and they instantly put two and two together, drawing their
weapons. The image FREEZES briefly again and then one cop runs to make a call
while the other covers Sweetback with his gun.
Sweetback rises reluctantly and the cop cuffs Sweetback's wrists.
CUT TO:
INT./EXT. COMMISSIONER'S OFFICE AND PATROL CAR
A few moments later, the Commissioner's office is full of reporters. The
phone rings. The Commissioner answers and listens.
COMMISSIONER
Hmm?
Cop #2 is on the line, sitting in the police car in front of Beatle's.
COP #2
Sir, I think we discovered the weapon and one
of the assailants.
COMMISSIONER
Uh huh.
COP #2
The suspect is a Mr. Sweetback.
COMMISSIONER
Yeah.
COP #2
I think we have a new development in the case.
Two black kids with pails want to wash the cop's car.
GIRL
Wash your car, mister?
COP #2
Stop bothering me, now get away from here...
(to the Commissioner)
I'm sorry, sir.
COMMISSIONER
Proceed.
COP #2
He didn't tell me where Mr. Moo-Moo was -- or
anybody else.
The Commissioner glances at the reporters who are jotting things down in
their notebooks. He can't speak freely, so he repeats, more distinctly this
time:
COMMISSIONER
Proceed.
GIRL
No charge if you don't like it!
BOY
Yeah, no charge if you don't like it!
COP #2
Now just move away from the car.
The Commissioner speaks slowly and distinctly as if he were dictating -- and
the reporters jot down what he says.
COMMISSIONER
Oh yes, I see. You have the witness called
Sweetback ... and Mr. Sweetback knows the
whereabouts of the suspect ... but that Mr.
Sweetback has been injured in a fall. Not too
badly, I hope.
COP #2
Fell down and bruised himself, sir?
REPORTER
Can we print that, Commissioner?
COMMISSIONER
(to the reporters)
Of course. I have no secrets from the press.
COP #2
I don't?? I'm sorry, sir, I don't understand ...
The cop on the other end of the line is thoroughly confused.
COMMISSIONER
(even more distinctly)
Fine, fine... You say the witness has given you
the whereabouts of the suspect. Too bad the
witness has injured himself in a fall.
Finally, the cop begins to get the message.
COP #2
Okay ... right, sir!
COMMISSIONER
Proceed!
The Commissioner hangs up, sighs, and smiles to the reporters.
CUT TO:
EXT. BROTHEL
The first cop comes back from the car telephone. The other cop has Sweetback
seated and has his police special trained on him.
COP #1
(to Cop #2)
Well?
COP #2
Commissioner says beat the information out of
the nigger before we get him to the station.
The first cop holsters his gun and the two of them pull Sweetback to his
feet. They immediately begin to work Sweetback over. Sweetback doesn't utter
a sound. Well, maybe a little grunting. They knock him to the ground a few
times and haul him to his feet in order to knock him down again. He develops
a bloody lip.
COP #1
Let's take him some place where we can really
work on him.
They half drag, half push Sweetback to:
EXT. THE PATROL CAR ...
... which the kids are busy washing. The kids run off as the cops arrive
with Sweetback.
They stick Sweetback in the back seat and get in.
The kids watch the car from a safe distance.
As soon as the cop shuts his door, the car bursts into flames.
A nearby crowd panics and runs.
One guy runs over and opens the rear door, allowing Sweetback to escape.
Sweetback runs off as the two cops try to deal with the fire. One exits out
the rear and tries to free the other, still trapped inside.
We catches glimpses of the crowd, the cops, Sweetback running and hiding, a
fire engine arriving, Sweetback peering through a chain link fence, etc.
The crowd watches as the car's engine EXPLODES, blowing the hood off.
In the confusion, Sweetback casually leaves the scene, walking past a fire
chief's car.
The car BURSTS into a ball of flame. A couple of times.
Sweetback climbs down a manhole into the sewers. It's a difficult chore with
his wrists cuffed together. Finally, he hits bottom, up to his ankles in
sewage.
CUT TO:
INT. COMMISSIONER'S OFFICE - DAY
The Commissioner picks up a RINGING phone. He rises and listens with
increasing anger -- but all we hear are two police radios:
TWO SIMULTANEOUS RADIOS
The suspect has escaped
from the arresting
twelve units have been alerted
search pattern has been constructed
over the area
Unit 6A-2
an explosion detonated
following barricades have been set up
immediately adjoining the streets
vehicles causing
extensive damage
four additional units are now
on the scene assisting
when second officer
went to the rescue of
the driver
all other available units are being
deployed in searching the area
the witness disappeared
in the busy crowd
impossible to escape apprehension
matter of moments ...
Livid with rage, the Police Commissioner SLAMS down the phone, silencing the
radios. He approaches a wall map and stares at it.
CUT TO:
INT. WOMAN'S KITCHENETTE - DAY
KNOCKING on a door. A woman moves to the door and peeks through a shade. She
stares out and quickly opens the door. Sweetback comes in. She immediately
lights into him.
WOMAN
You sure are Jive and don't you tell me you
came here looking for Steve. You know Steve's
not here. He's got two more months to do...
Sweetback doesn't answer.
WOMAN
What are you, some kind of Indian giver or
something? You gave me to him.... I knew you'd
be back.
Sweetback holds the handcuffs in front of her face and she stops abruptly.
WOMAN
What do you want me to do, take them off?
Sweetback holds the handcuffs closer to her.
WOMAN
Beg...
SWEETBACK
No.
WOMAN
You too proud to beg?
SWEETBACK
But you wouldn't take them off if I did.
WOMAN
You know every Goddamn thing, don't you?
Well, first things first.
And she pulls his pants down and, smiling, lays back on the bed. Sweetback
moves toward the bed and lays on top of her. They go at it. Sure, Sweetback's
been beaten up and hasn't slept in who knows how long but she is moaning with
pleasure pretty darn quickly.
MALE VOICE
Where's Sweetback?!
CUT TO:
EXT. BEATLE'S BROTHEL
We PAN DOWN the building.
VOICE #2
Where's Sweetback?
BEATLE'S VOICE
I don't-- I don't know where Sweetback is.
VOICE #3
Where's Sweetback?!
BEATLE'S VOICE
I don't know. I don't know where Sweetback is.
VOICE #4
Come on, come on, you can tell us.
CUT TO:
INT. BEATLE'S ROOM
Beatle's face more grotesque than ever. His chest is bare. His eyes seem as
if they are going to pop out of his head. Sweat is pouring from his forehead
and he looks as if he has been crying and is going to cry again any minute.
His bedroom is a shambles and three detectives are grilling him. One has him
by the nap of his hair and the other two watch.
DETECTIVE #3
(to the others)
He seems to be hard of hearing.
DETECTIVE #4
If he don't talk, he's going to be.
The cop gently caresses Beatle's ear with the muzzle of his pistol.
DETECTIVE #3
Where's Sweetback? Where is he?
DETECTIVE #4
Where's Sweetback?
BEATLE
I don't know where Sweetback ...
DETECTIVE #3
Where's Sweetback?
DETECTIVE #4
Come on, boy.
The cop FIRES a shot into the ceiling. The NOISE makes Beatle's face go all
psychedelic for a moment. The questioning continues... but is only half as
loud.
DETECTIVE #3
Where is he?
BEATLE
I don't know where Sweetback is.
DETECTIVE #4
Come on, boy, talk.
DETECTIVE #3
Where's Sweetback?
DETECTIVE # 4
Come on, boy
DETECTIVE #3
Where's Sweetback?
DETECTIVE #4
He must be deaf.
DETECTIVE #3
If he isn't, he's going to be.
DETECTIVE #4
Look at me.
DETECTIVE #3
Where's Sweetback?
BEATLE
I don't know where he is.
DETECTIVE #3
Where's is he?
BEATLE
I don't know where Sweetback-- I don't know
where Sweetback is.
DETECTIVE #3
Come on!
DETECTIVE #4
Where's Sweetback?
BEATLE
I don't know where Sweetback--
DETECTIVE #3
Tell him!
DETECTIVE #4
Where's he at?
The cops spin Beatle in his chair. Beatle's face is distended with pain.
Blood runs from his ear.
DETECTIVE #3
Where's Sweetback?
BEATLE
I haven't seen Sweetback.
DETECTIVE #3
SWEETBACK!!!
DETECTIVE #4
You only got one good ear left, boy, you want
to save it? You want to talk?
The cop puts the chamber to the other ear and FIRES -- more momentary
psychedelia, as Beatle puts a hand to his head -- and the sound gets echoey
and distorted:
VOICE #1
This guy's tough. Both ears are gone! And he
still won't talk!
VOICE #2
Yeah, tough.
Beatle rolls his eyes to Heaven.
CUT TO:
EXT./INT. CHURCH MONTAGE
A woman lowers her eyes from Heaven, bows her head, and cries:
WOMAN IN CHURCH
Oh, Jesus!
Outside, Sweetback runs, now without handcuffs, pausing at a chain link fence
to get his bearings, along a lengthy brick wall, down an alley, etc., on his
way to the church. We INTERCUT these with the scenes in church:
One woman wipes her eyes with a rolled up ball of tissue paper. Others cry
and wail:
WOMEN
Oh, Jesus ...
Oh, Lord.
Oh, Jesus.
Oh, Jesus.
Oh, Jesus, take him into glory, Lord.
Yes, Lord.
You know his heart. Lord.
Oh, Jesus.
INT. CHURCH
Sweetback comes into the side entrance of the church off the alley. Stealthily
he approaches the main room of the church. We hear a preacher preach a funeral
service to four old women and six tough looking young blacks.
PREACHER
Yes, Lord, black misery.
Someone sings a snatch of "By and By" -- a gospel standard.
WOMEN
Save him, save him, Lord.
You know his heart.
Save him.
Save him.
PREACHER
Yes, Lord! Brothers and Sisters, one of us...
Brothers and sisters, we're here 'cause one of
our brothers is in that box, but he's not dead.
He's alive and with us.
WOMEN
Jesus!
Sweetback stands in the shadows, looking into the front room.
PREACHER
We can't see him but we know he's here... I'm
glad to tell you today that though he may be in
that box, he's gonna be in heaven with us. I can
see him now... God God Almighty, that's our man.
Yes, my children, he is dead ...
WOMEN
Save him, Lord!
PREACHER
... but he is not dead, he is with us here
today.
WOMEN
You know his heart.
Sweetback peers through a partition. He stays back in the shadows. The
preacher continues to preach.
PREACHER
Our brother died here today of an overdose, an
overdose of black misery ... Yes, Lord!
(sees Sweetback)
We'll bow our heads in prayer ...
The preacher bows his head but his eyes peer up at Sweetback. As the mourners
pray, the preacher walks over and joins Sweetback in the rear.
PREACHER
What are you doing here, Sweetback? They're
looking for you. You're as hot as little
sis's twat.
Sweetback moves off. The preacher shuts the door to the front room and
follows him.
PREACHER
Where you goin'?
SWEETBACK
I don't want you to cover for me... I'm goin'
upstairs to the farm.
PREACHER
To the farm? You can't hide there!
Sweetback ignores him and exits the building, climbing a long flight of
wooden stairs to an upstairs floor of the church. After a moment, the
preacher follows him out the door but stops at the foot of the stairs.
Through an open door to the "farm" -- a haven for unwed mothers and a source
of prostitutes for the brothel -- we can see a mostly naked young woman on a
cot, screaming and moaning, clutching her head.
Sweetback shuts the door and walks slowly back down the stairs to the
preacher.
PREACHER
You can't hide there.
Back INSIDE THE CHURCH, the preacher confronts Sweetback:
PREACHER
They know all about the farm, and not only
yesterday, the unwed mothers... the girls I get
you from upstairs. The Man knows about
everything...
Women's voices from the front room can be heard singing joyfully.
PREACHER
Ain't it strange when we die, our folks like to
rejoice -- but when it comes to the living,
that's it. The hype I'm layin' down for them
people inside, it ain't dangerous. I'm just
selling them a little bit o' happiness, you
know? From the Happy Land. We're all gonna die
-- so all I want 'em to have is some peace
... It's my job to make them believe that
they're going to get it better on the other
side. It's my job. Moo-Moo, the boy you saved,
and those other kids, they're layin' down the
real religion. They got it. You offer pretty
good news to me, slappin' up on some white cops.
(laughs, slaps his thigh)
Yes, indeed.
(smiles, holds up cross)
I'm gonna say a black Ave Maria for you. Like
the kids say, "later for waiting." You saved a
plant that they were planning to pick in the bud.
That's why the Man's down on you. That's why the
Man's down on you.
Sweetback lowers his eyes. Grinning, the preacher approaches him.
PREACHER
I'm still gonna say a black Ave Maria for you.
The preacher crosses himself and ends the gesture with a clenched fist.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. GAMBLING DEN - NIGHT
A radio is on:
RADIO
Right on we go on KGFJ Soul Radio with Sandra Z,
the new hit by Earth, Wind and Fire.
It's night and we're in a room, a sleazy little gambling place. Under a lamp,
four or five men sit as the dealer shuffles the cards. Other men stand around
the table watching -- among them, Sweetback.
Sweetback looks around for the manager who, after a moment, enters, sniffs,
and approaches his old friend. Sweetback and the sharply-dressed manager
stand together among the other kibitzers, watching the card game progress.
MANAGER
What does a dead man need bread for? So they
was whipping a brother. How many brothers have
you whipped? How many sisters you slipped?
Life is tough, baby. A real struggle, from the
womb to the tomb. Every dollar we make, the
guineas get twenty, the po-lice get forty and
Goldberg gets fifty. Anybody can tell ya that
don't add up to a dollar. That adds up to a
dollar and a dime. That's why all of us niggers
is so far behind.
CARD PLAYER 1
And Africa shall stretch forth her arms!
CARD PLAYER 2
Yeah, and bring back a bloody stump.
CARD PLAYER 3
(a Latino)
Viva Puerto Rico Libre!
(Long live a free Puerto Rico!)
The card players laugh.
MANAGER
I haven't forgot you staked me, Sweetback. If I
had the dough, I would lay it on you, but I
don't have it. I wouldn't shuffle or shit you,
baby. Wouldn't do it for nothin'. You can't get
out of this town on wings, wheels or steel. I
wouldn't shuffle or shit you, brother. Like I
said, what does a dead man need bread for?
VOICE
Albuquerque, Wichita Falls, ramp seven. San
Diego ...
CUT TO:
INT./EXT. BUS STATION - NIGHT
FREEZE FRAMES of white guys: in a bathroom, by a pinball machine, by a
cigarette vending machine. They all look around suspiciously, trying
to look innocuous.
CUT TO:
MANAGER'S CAR
Big Henry, the manager's bodyguard, gets in the car and reports to the
manager and Sweetback.
BIG HENRY
Just like the rail station, boss. Full of pigs.
CUT TO:
CAR RIDE
The manager, Big Henry and Sweetback drive through the city: semi-psychedelic
views of various buildings, bus stations, etc. Suddenly:
SWEETBACK
Stop!
Sweetback leaps out of the car and runs. Big Henry and the manager exchange
puzzled glances.
Sweetback approaches a man with a red hairnet on the sidewalk. It's Moo-Moo.
Sweetback brings him to the car and they get in. Moo-Moo introduces himself
to Big Henry and the manager.
MOO MOO
I'm Moo Moo, brothers.
The manager and Big Henry look mighty surly.
MANAGER
You the guy who got my buddy in all this
trouble.
BIG HENRY
Yeah.
The car pulls away, with the four of them inside, heading out of the city. It
begins to rain.
MOO MOO
Where you brothers goin'?
They don't answer. They simply drive on through the city. The JESUS SAVES
sign prominently double-exposed as they pass buildings, go through a tunnel,
and onto a small rural road. Big Henry holds a gun in his hand. The car
travels down a deserted road, deep in the boondocks, where crickets CHIRP.
The car stops.
MANAGER
This is the best that I can do for you on such
a short notice.
Sweetback and Moo-Moo get out of the car.
Big Henry points his gun at them just in case they disagree.
MANAGER
Buy yourself a last supper... You're a dead
man.
Sweetback and Moo-Moo shut the car doors. The car skids off into the night.
Sweetback and Moo-Moo are nowhere. They begin to walk down the road, into the
forest.
FADE OUT
FADE IN
A gigantic flashlight shines directly into the CAMERA and there is a powerful
roar. It isn't a flashlight at all. It's a headlight. We DISSOLVE TO a
motorcycle gang revving their motors in silhouette, then to Sweetback asleep
on a dirt floor. He opens his eyes. The powerful headlight shines on him.
He's surrounded by bikers. One Motorcycle Guy crouches over him.
MOTORCYCLE GUY #1
What have we here?
MOTORCYCLE GUY #2
Well, looks like we have a couple of private
trespassers and you just trespassed on private
property.
MOTORCYCLE GUY #1
And that's a no no.
Sweetback sits up and gets to his feet. Seems he and Moo-Moo have stumbled
into a motorcycle gang's den, an abandoned building that was probably a power
station or small factory. Scattered here and there on the dirt floor, there
are still indentations where pieces of heavy machinery must have stood.
MOTORCYCLE GANG
Let's stomp 'em, man. Stomp 'em.
They got to pay, man, they got to pay.
Give 'em a chance, man, this is a democracy.
Look it!
(removes Sweetback's wristwatch)
Look at this, look what he brought me!
Payment number one.
He's got the goods.
Let me kick his fucking ass.
No, no. Naw. ... you ought to save him.
Yeah!
Save him for something even heavier than you.
For what?
Something sporty.
Like what?
Sporty?
Well ...
Like what?
How about a duel?
A duel?
It is obviously a routine the cycle guys have pulled before. Sweetback tries
to figure out where they are headed.
EVERYBODY
A duel, a duel.
Sounds good to me.
Yeah, like in the good old days.
The good 'ol days.
Me, me and hairnet.
No, no, no.
Got to throw him back. He's too little.
That's the one.
(pointing at Sweetback)
Yeah! Yeah!
I think we should have something good, really
lay on something good.
All right! The Prez.
(Laughter)
The Prez. All right, the .. Prez.
That'll be good.
Right on.
Yeah, when the Prez comes back. Yeah, you gonna
get it.
You and the Prez are gonna duel.
Right on.
A pack of motorcycles roar into the "den" like the hounds of hell.
BIKERS
(Shouts)
The Prez, the Prez.
The chief and eight or nine other members ride in.
MOTORCYCLE GUY #1
Hey, Prez, have we got news for you...Hey, have
we got work for you...We gotta guy for you to
duel...
The chief is enormous, six feet something, wearing a white helmet, goggles,
boots, etc. The chief strides over to Sweetback and sizes him up.
MOTORCYCLE GUY #1
(To Sweetback)
You're black, man...What's it gonna be? ...
Wrestlin'?
The chief swaggers over to a big bike and lifts it off the ground. The bikers
gasp and whistle in awe and encouragement.
GANG
Hey, how about knives?
Ha ha!
One biker tosses a knife to the Chief who throws it hard, sticking it two or
three inches into an oak post. Sweetback looks rather intimidated.
GANG
Come on, man, your choice -- what's it gonna
be? Huh? What's it gonna be, man?
The chief takes off her goggles and helmet -- yes, the chief is a woman. A
white woman. With long, long red hair. She looks at Sweetback. Sweetback
looks at her.
GANG
Come on, man, come on, babe, what's it gonna
be?...Huh? What's it gonna be? Your choice,
baby.
Long pause as Sweetback looks from the bikers to the chief and back again.
Finally, he makes his choice:
SWEETBACK
Fucking.
The gang shouts, indignant. The chief, a.k.a. The Prez, a.k.a. Big Sadie,
signals for silence.
PREZ (BIG SADIE)
Shut up.
That settles that. Big Sadie makes a gesture and pandemonium breaks loose.
The bikes are arranged in a circle with their headlights pointing in the
middle. Some of the gang lay their leather jackets in the arena. Some drive
their cycles up on a loading ramp, turn the headlights toward the center,
too.
Big Sadie, lit by the ring of light and stark naked, lays down on the
jackets, folds her arms behind her head and opens her legs, ready to do some
serious fucking. After a pause, she sits up and calls to an unseen Sweetback.
PREZ (BIG SADIE)
(smirking)
Well?
Her voice echoes the "Well?" several times.
She walks around the ring and clasps her hands above her head, doing the
fighter victory thing. The gang members roar their encouragement -- shouting
and clapping. "Ta ra ta ta de ta," one joker imitates a fanfare. She lays
down.
Sweetback enters the ring. He is naked too, except for a black derby
someone has stuck on his head, a white bow tie, and a pair of spats fastened
around his ankles. He looks like a refugee from an old Tarzan comic strip.
Sweetback lays down on Big Sadie. Everybody watches.
MOTORCYCLE GUY
Bet Sambo's so scared he can't even get it on.
MOTORCYCLE GIRL
After the Prez does you in, then we'll do you
in.
Sweetback starts to work.
GANG
YEAH.
Yeah.
Get it on.
Ball him in the bad health, Prez.
Do it to him, Prez.
Get it, Prez, get it.
(Laughing, shouts, clapping)
Get it, Prez.
Sweetback tosses his derby aside, just as he tossed his cap aside at the
brothel.
Things get down and dirty. Big Sadie's arms come from behind her head... she
begins to hug him. In short, Sweetback begins to make a believer of her.
She begins to moan with pleasure, a rumbling roar begins to form in her
throat. This dance of life transcends all the frontiers of time, place, color.
The spectators are locked with them as if they themselves were writhing on
the floor. They begin to cheer them on.
Suddenly, Big Sadie bellows and begins to scream with pleasure.
PREZ (BIG SADIE)
(screams)
Ooooooh, Sweetback, oooooh.
Ooooooh, Sweetback! Get it, Sweetback!
Ooooooh, Sweetback!
Big Sadie giggles and grins a beautiful grin and the image FREEZES.
Sweetback stands up the winner, puts on his derby. Big Sadie lays there
almost beautiful and suddenly shy. Exhausted but supremely satisfied.
MOTORCYCLE GUY
Shit.
The battle is over. The bikers rev their engines and drive off into the night.
CUT TO:
EXT./INT. COUNTRY BAR-POOL HALL - LATER THAT NIGHT
Sweetback and Moo-Moo are taken down the road to a combination bar-pool hall,
closed for the season. The gang breaks the lock and puts them inside.
MOTORCYCLE GUY #1
You'll be cool here. We'll fix you up with help
in the morning.
MOTORCYCLE GUY #2
Nobody'll bother you here... Have a good time...
Come on...
MOTORCYCLE GUY #3
No danger here.
As they leave, the motorcycle guys confer.
MOTORCYCLE GUY #1
Did you get 'em on the phone?
MOTORCYCLE GUY #2
Yeah, yeah.
MOTORCYCLE GUY #3
How long will it take?
Inside the bar, Sweetback turns on a light. Moo-Moo looks around uneasily.
Sweetback sits, tired. Moo-Moo finds a few bottles of beer and offers one to
Sweetback, who accepts. Moo-Moo pulls a pool ball from a pocket of the pool
table and shows it to Sweetback, who grabs a cue stick.
Sweetback and Moo-Moo play pool to pass the time. Sweetback wins a game,
sinking a couple of balls with one arm held behind his back. Moo-Moo shrugs.
Before they can rack the balls for a new game, they hear a noise and look to
see:
Two white cops, guns drawn, walk in on them. Sweetback holds out his wrists to
be cuffed. The cop gets one of the cuffs on but Sweetback turns and punches
the cop in the eye, blinding him.
When the other cop turns to help, Moo-Moo clobbers him from behind with a
pool cue.
The blinded cop fires his gun wildly as Sweetback and Moo-Moo try to avoid
the shots.
Moo-Moo gets clipped in the shoulder by a bullet and goes down.
Sweetback sneaks up on the cop and strangles him from behind with the
handcuffs.
The other cop rises and throws a chair at Sweetback, who ducks. The chair
smashes up a large mirror behind him.
Sweetback up-ends the pool table and crouches behind it, holding a broken
pool cue. The cop, gun in hand, peers cautiously over the table. Sweetback
watches the cop in a fragment of the broken mirror and with perfect timing,
pops up, and spears the cop in the chest with the sharp end of the cue stick.
It takes about a half a minute for the cop to die.
Sweetback finds the handcuff keys and unshackles himself, then helps the
wounded Moo-Moo to his feet. They start for the door. Moo-Moo nods that he
can make it.
Before they can exit, the door swings open. It's a guy from a black
motorcycle club, in biker regalia. He looks around the room, which is a mess,
at the cops who are lying on the floor, staring up at the swinging lamp
overhead like they are going through some eternal interrogations. The biker
nods, impressed.
BLACK MOTORCYCLE GUY
Big Sadie, the Prez, heard her guys planning
this cross... so she called us.
OUTSIDE, the biker and Sweetback help Moo-Moo to a waiting motorcycle.
BLACK MOTORCYCLE GUY
Look here, I can only take one of you... I
won't get ten feet with three people on this
bike... Now, they told me to pick up Sweetback
... You Sweetback, ain't you?
Sweetback thinks it over.
SWEETBACK
(off Moo-Moo)
Take him.
BLACK MOTORCYCLE GUY
You know what you're doin', man?
SWEETBACK
He's our future, Br'er. Take him.
The biker looks from Sweetback to Moo-Moo and nods.
Sweetback helps Moo-Moo on the back of the bike and the cycle starts off,
Moo-Moo is so faint, he immediately falls off. The biker circles around and
they put Moo-Moo back on.
BLACK MOTORCYCLE GUY
Take these straps here.
Strapped on, Moo-Moo shakes Sweetback's hand.
MOO MOO
Sweetback.
Sweetback shakes the biker's hand, they exchange a salute. The cycle roars
off down the road. Sweetback watches it go, then looks around. The cops' car
sits abandoned. Sweetback ducks into the underbrush. MUSIC: "Come on Feet Do
Your Thing"
SWEETBACK RUNNING - COUNTRY - NIGHT
Sweetback running, running through the night.
SWEETBACK'S HEAD
come on feet
cruise for me
trouble ain't no place to be
come on feet
do your thing
SWEETBACK RUNNING - CITY - NIGHT
SWEETBACK'S HEAD
come on feet
do your thing
you're on old whitey's game
come on legs
come on run
come on legs
come on run
guilty's what he say you done
SWEETBACK RUNNING - AQUEDUCT - DAY
Police sirens WAIL as Sweetback is a tiny figure running the length of a huge
nearly dry aqueduct, past freight trains, sewage, etc.
SWEETBACK'S HEAD
come on knees
don't be mean
come on knees
don't be mean
ain't first red you ever seen
come on feet
do your thing
come on baby
don't cop out on me
come on baby
don't give in on me
come on feet
cruise for me
come on legs
come on run
come on feet
do your thing
who put the bad mouth on me
anyway the way I pick em up
and put em down
even if it got
got my name on it
won't catch me now
We TRACK past a parking lot full of police cars.
CUT TO:
INT. CONFERENCE ROOM AND COMMISSIONER'S OFFICE - DAY
The Commissioner addresses a roomful of plainclothesmen and uniformed cops.
COMMISSIONER
I want them! I want them, do you hear?! And I
want them now. God, there could be an uprising
on our hands. Cop killers and niggers to boot!
No patrol will be safe in their area ... That's
all.
The police begin to file out. He motions to the Negro patrolmen in the
audience to wait behind.
COMMISSIONER
Hey, Rossie, Bill, just a minute... Ah, look,
you guys, I didn't mean any offense by, aah, uh,
by that word I used. It was just a... It's a
figure of speaking, you understand... You know,
you guys could be a real credit to your people
if you brought those guys in. Okay?
The cops leave without a word. The Commissioner, pleased with himself,
returns to his desk and sits.
CUT TO:
EXT. SWEETBACK RUNNING - DAY
Sweetback catches his breath, leans on a pipe, watches a bird which flies
away.
SWEETBACK'S HEAD
bet I broke the Olympic 220
or cross country
or somethin
sure is lonely
sure most quietest turf I ever seen
Sweetback spots a helicopter overhead and takes off again.
SWEETBACK'S HEAD
what happened to the sun
sure gone away
sure blacker than a landlord's soul
must have run all day
yeah, must have run all day
CUT TO:
MOTEL RAID - DAY
Cops dash up the outside steps of a motel. The clerk lets them in.
A black man and a white woman are in bed. The cops swoop down on the man so
rapidly he gets kicked and slapped ten times before God even gets the news.
The woman screams, is pulled out of bed naked, a gun pointed at her. The man
is bloodied, the floor is bloodied, the butt of a cop's pistol is bloodied.
SWEETBACK'S HEAD
sure am a bitch
must have run all day
sure yeah
yeah baby
come on feet
cruise for me
come on feet
come on run
come on legs
come on run
come on feet
do your thing
come on feet
do your thing
They throw the black man through the glass window. The cops hold the man's
head up by his hair so the plainclothes detective can get a good look at him.
The detective, the motel clerk, and the naked woman peer at him.
BLACK GUY'S POINT-OF-VIEW
The detective, the motel clerk, and the naked woman are out of focus for a
moment -- then the three of them appear clearly. The motel clerk casts
surreptitious glances at the naked woman's body.
BLACK GUY'S FACE
Bloody, gasping, a gun to his head. But it isn't Sweetback, it's a mistake.
DETECTIVE #1
That's not him.
COP
So what?
CUT TO:
EXT. SWEETBACK RUNNING - THROUGH CITY STREETS - NIGHT
INSET SCREENS show police cars, lights, donut shops, etc.
SWEETBACK'S HEAD
come on feet
cruise for me
come on feet
come on run
come on legs
come on run
come on feet
do your thing
come on feet
do your thing
Sweetback smashes the glass in a door, reaches in, turns the knob, lets
himself in to a darkened room and crouches down. Police arrive shine a
flashlight in through the hole in the glass but fail to catch him.
CUT TO:
INT. COMMISSIONER'S OFFICE - NIGHT
A detective comes in and gives the Commissioner a thumbs up victory sign.
DETECTIVE #3
Bingo, we got him.
The Commissioner rises from his desk, his jacket is off and the gun in his
holster looks enormous.
CUT TO:
INT. CITY MORGUE - NIGHT
It looks like the Commissioner is standing in a bank vault with a wall of
enormous safety deposit boxes behind him.
COMMISSIONER
If things change, the majority of people will
decide where and when. This is a democracy, it's not
communism. And we're all going to respect the law
or pay the consequences.
We PULL BACK to reveal that he's in the City Morgue.
A drawer is being closed and there is a glimpse of a cadaver that could very
well be Moo-Moo's (we see a red hairnet).
The Commissioner is talking to Beatle who sits in a wheelchair with his man,
Donald, standing behind him. Beatle's ears are bandaged.
COMMISSIONER
As a citizen, you are required by law to aid
us in this identification... Is this
Sweetback's body?
A long pause.
BEATLE
(weakly)
I ain't learned to read lips yet.
Deadpan, Donald translates for the Commissioner.
DONALD
He lost his hearing. He ain't able to read lips
yet.
The Commissioner writes the question out: IS THIS SWEETBACK? A drawer is
opened and Beatle is wheeled over to it. Everyone in the room looks into the
drawer: cops, Donald, Beatle, the Commissioner. Beatle smiles. It's the black
guy who was on the motorcycle, hands folded across his belly, his helmet at
his feet.
CUT TO:
MONTAGE - STREETS - LOOKING FOR SWEETBACK - DAY
Wino in skid row with a bottle. He never heard of no Sweetback. VARIOUS SHOTS
of the inner city: bridges, roads, overpasses, Sweetback running, trains, a
cop, Sweetback in a phone booth, cop cars squealing round corners, cops
peering into shop windows, a guy fileting a fish, dogs barking, street
sweeper, people waiting for a bus, etc., INTERCUT with ghetto folks caught up
in the manhunt.
GHETTO FOLKS
1. I told you one time I ain't seen
Sweetback... Never heard of him ... What else
do he go by?
2. I'm positive I've never seen him...
3. Huh? Yeah? Thank you.
4. I've been looking for him myself.
5. I don't know no Sweetback!
6. I ain't saw Sweetback.
7. I haven't seen him.
CUT TO:
WOMAN AT HOME WITH KIDS
In a dirty basement, a woman is cracking string beans into a beat-up pot and
filthy, half-naked children crawl around in the mess. She just keeps these
kids for the county. After they get so bad or so grown, the county just takes
'em away. She's never had a Sweetback but she might have had a Leroy once but
she can't rightly remember.
WOMAN
I just keep these kids for the county and make
these things for the old people... like this.
Isn't that pretty?
She holds up a bottle, a rolled up ball of tinfoil, etc. We INTERCUT this
woman talking with views of construction sites, ROAD CLOSED signs, an
overpass, an unfinished bridge, the faces of the children, a guy sitting on a
sidewalk, etc.
WOMAN
Ain't they pretty? But when the kids get so
grown and so bad, it takes them away from me...
I might have had a Leroy once, but I don't
rightly remember. They get so bad and so
grown... I might have had a Leroy once, but I
don't remember... Make these things for older
people and these kids for the county. It jest
takes 'em away from me. I might have had a
Leroy once, but I can't rightly remember. When
the kids get bad and older, they usually take
them away from me. I might have had a Leroy,
but I don't rightly remember... When the kids
get older and bad, they usually take them away
from me...I might have had a Leroy. When the
kids get older and bad, they usually take them
away from me, jest takes 'em away from me. I
might have had a Leroy once, but I can't
rightly remember...
CUT TO:
EXT. BRIDGE - SWEETBACK RUNNING - DAY
A uniformed cop chases our hero. The cop draws a rifle and FIRES. Sweetback
crashes into a wooden frame and dangles from it over the edge of the bridge.
Sweetback sees the cop lining up a second shot, looks down at the long drop
below him, and lets go of the wooden frame.
SWEETBACK
Fuck!
He drops who knows how far -- and lands unhurt. The cop, rifle in hand,
approaches the wooden frame and peers over the edge but fails to see
Sweetback, just a railroad track stretching off into the distance.
Disappointed, the cop primes his rifle and runs off.
CUT TO:
STREETS - POLICE QUESTIONING
GHETTO FOLK
No! Other people I don't give a damn about...
I don't know nobody but my own Goddamn self...
CUT TO:
SWEETBACK WALKING - TWILIGHT
Sweetback walks into a parking lot at dusk.
CUT TO:
INT. FUNKY NIGHTCLUB - ON STAGE - NIGHT
Colored lights. A savage-faced, blonde-wigged black woman with an awful lot
of eye shadow yells into a microphone.
INT. NIGHTCLUB DRESSING ROOM
A funky dressing room where you can almost smell the armpits and hair grease.
A balding old plainclothesman sits quietly across from the woman who stands
-- she's been out of trade for years and off the stuff, swear to God.
SINGER
No, I haven't seen Sweetback. I haven't seen
him in a long time... look, I don't, I don't
see the cat. If I never see him, it won't be
too soon for me, you understand? You understand,
man?... I haven't seen the cat and I don't want
to see him. You just keep leaning and leaning
and leaning, get the fuck off o' my back, man!
I'm, I'm clean, man, look, I'm clean...
The woman gets hysterical and shows off her bare arms -- there ain't no
marks, right? She shoves an arm across the cop's face but he doesn't flinch.
He just silently smokes a cigarette through the entire rant.
SINGER
There's nothing there, look, look. When I get
pissed off, man, I will throw a natural-born
nigger fit on you, understand, so why don't you
leave? Why don't you leave? I am clean,
look... Nothing, nothing. No place, man. I'm
clean, so stop leaning on me. I ain't on the
street no more, understand? I ain't in the
trade no more. I just want to be left alone,
baby. So don't push me. You're pushing my
button, baby! You're pushing my button! Leave!
Split! Leave, mother fucker!
Without a word, the cop leaves.
SINGER
Sweetback, man, shit!
We glimpse parts of her dressing room as she pulls off her blonde wig and
laughs insanely. Finally, leaning against the wall and clutching her wig to
her belly, she roars with laughter.
ON STAGE
The savage-faced woman screaming into the mike again, colored lights flashing
behind her.
SINGER
(singing, sort of)
I love you, I love you, I love you!
She stops singing.
Outside somewhere, a flashing neon light says: O.K.
CUT TO:
EXT. A BRIEF TRANSITION - NIGHT
Cars going down a highway. Sweetback walking. A guy cleaning a window.
CUT TO:
INT. COMMISSIONER'S OFFICE - NIGHT
The Commissioner is obsessed and screaming into the CAMERA.
COMMISSIONER
Fuck the reporters!
(turns to some cops)
I know they're out there!
He points to a map of Southern California and puts his finger on Mexico.
COMMISSIONER
Now look, this guy's got one chance.
(points to a wall map)
Right here! Now let's get him.
[NOTE: That's Sweetback only prayer so he's got to try for it. In the old
seat of the pants flying days pilots would fly down from up at the State
capitol in Sacramento all the way to Ensenada in Baja, Mexico without a map
just using the railroad as a running landmark. Even from 500 feet up it stuck
out like a sore thumb, but now sometimes at five yards the tracks are
unnoticeable; in the city overpowered by freeways and cars and skyscrapers,
in the country weather-beaten right back into the landscape, rotting ties and
waiting stations crumbled into genteel dilapidation. But anyway, rusting and
maybe not so shiny anymore, the rails are still there, pointing the way to
Mexico.]
CUT TO:
Among other brief TRACKING SHOTS, we get some lovely AERIAL VIEWS of
Sweetback, spread-eagled atop the roof of a moving vehicle, perhaps a van or
truck.
CUT TO:
CITY STREETS - POLICE QUESTIONING
Sweetback running out in the open, following those all-important railroad
tracks, INTERCUT with seemingly random SHOTS of the city, an ambulance, and a
few ghetto dwellers responding to police inquiries.
GHETTO DWELLER
No, no, I haven't seem him. Sweetback? No,
I haven't, I haven't seen him...
(cop gives him a photo)
Thank you, but I haven't seen him.
One black guy, wearing a neck brace and trying to unlock a car with a coat
hanger, spins to face the police.
MR. NECK BRACE
I haven't seen him.
He stares uncertainly at the cops for a moment and then moves away.
CUT TO:
OUTSKIRTS OF CITY - SWEETBACK RUNNING
Sweetback running down the track, beneath power lines, past crossing guards,
a sign reading KEEP OUT, etc.
An unseen chorus of COLORED BOURGEOIS ANGELS sings to Sweetback.
CHORUS OF COLORED BOURGEOIS ANGELS
they bled your Mama
they bled your Papa
SWEETBACK
but they won't bleed me
niggers scared and pretend they don't see
COLORED ANGELS
just like you Sweetback
SWEETBACK
just like I used to be
work your black behind to the gums
and you supposed to Thomas til he done
Exhausted, Sweetback drops to all fours by the track.
COLORED ANGELS
you got to Thomas, Sweetback
they bled your brother
they bled your sister
SWEETBACK
yeah but he won't bleed me
Sweetback struggles to his feet, scrambling down the railroad track. He looks
over his shoulder and his look becomes...
SWEETBACK'S VISION
A black guy shining shoes. He puts the polish on and then turns around and
wipes the toes with his ass. The shoe shine customer, a white guy in cool
shades, grins merrily. The shoe shine guy grins, too.
DESERT - DAY
A helicopter flies over and spots a lone figure running through the sagebrush.
We recognize Sweetback's clothes even at this height.
A police car has been notified and it speeds into view, it's siren WAILING.
Up ahead, a bearded young white guy whom we shall call GEEZER, wearing
Sweetback's clothes, stops running and looks over his shoulder at the
oncoming cop car. He looks up at the helicopter pursuing him and keeps on
running.
Geezer's dog trails behind him. So does the cop car. Microphone in hand, the
Sheriff at the wheel watches Geezer run.
Geezer squats down in the sage and sand, patting his dog. The Sheriff signals
to the helicopter that all is under control. The Sheriff questions Geezer who
has his boot off, massaging a sore foot.
COP
Alright, now why'd you run?
GEEZER
Why'd I run?
COP
Uh huh.
GEEZER
I ran cause I gave my word I'd run.
COP
Gave what word?
GEEZER
I promised to run.
COP
You promised who, what?
GEEZER
This guy gave me five dollars to change duds
with him... Told me if anybody come after me
just, uh, keep on running.
COP
Was he a black guy?
GEEZER
Yeah ... colored.
COP
What'd he look like?
GEEZER
Like a buddy I used to pal around with back in
Denver.
COP
Now would you say he was about this tall?
Around this size?
GEEZER
Yeah, about like that.
COP
What was he doin'?
GEEZER
Poorly.
COP
You mean how he was doin'.
GEEZER
Yeah, poorly.
CUT TO:
ELSEWHERE IN THE DESERT
Now dressed in Geezer's duds and clutching his side in pain, Sweetback keeps
running. The invisible colored angels keep singing. They sing a few lines of
"By and By" as Sweetback collapses to the ground and lies on his back.
COLORED ANGELS
progress, Sweetback
SWEETBACK
that's what he want you to believe
COLORED ANGELS
no!
progress, Sweetback
SWEETBACK
he ain't stopped clubbing you for four hundred
years...And he don't intend to for a million
COLORED ANGELES
he sure treat us bad, Sweetback
SWEETBACK
we can make him do us better
COLORED ANGELS
chicken ain't nothing but a bird
white man ain't nothing but a turd
nigger ain't shit
Meanwhile the angels sing "Wade in the Water" ... as Sweetback gets to his
feet, winces horribly, and inspects his side: it's a bloody mess. Apparently,
the cop who got off the rifle shot managed to wound our hero.
SWEETBACK
get my hand on a trigger
COLORED ANGELES
you talking revolution, Sweetback
SWEETBACK
I want to get off these knees
COLORED ANGELS
you talking revolution, Sweetback
SWEETBACK
somebody listen to me
COLORED ANGELS
if he can't burn you out
he'll stomp you out
SWEETBACK
he won't waste me
COLORED ANGELS
let it shine
let it shine
let it shine
Sweetback unzips his fly, urinates in the sand, takes a clump of the wet
sand, puts it into a makeshift bandage made of torn white cloth, and straps
it to his wound.
COLORED ANGELS
he bopped your Mama
he bopped your Papa
SWEETBACK
but he won't waste me
Sweetback tries to get moving again.
COLORED ANGELS
you can't make it on wings, wheels or steel,
Sweetback
SWEETBACK
we got feet
COLORED ANGELS
you can't get away on wings, wheels or steel,
Sweetback
SWEETBACK
niggers got feet
But Sweetback collapses and lies on his back in the sand.
COLORED ANGELS
they bled your brother
they bled your sister
A LITTLE LATER
The hot sun burns down on our prostrate hero. The desert wind blows sand over
him.
SWEETBACK
your brother and your sister too... how come it
took me so long to see... how he gets us to use
each other...
COLORED ANGELS
niggers scared
SWEETBACK
we got to get it together...if he kick a
brother it gotta be like he's kicking your
mother
Sweetback gathers his strength, sits up, and inspects his wound which is
healing nicely. Amazing the power of urine, n'est-ce pas? Sweetback rises and
staggers off, heading for the horizon.
COLORED ANGELS
he got your brother
don't let him get you
haul your black ass, Sweetback
he ain't gonna let you stand tall, Sweetback
the man knows everything, Sweetback
The sun starts to descend behind a mountain.
COLORED ANGELS
the man knows everything
SWEETBACK
then he oughta know I'm tired of him fucking
with me!
SWEETBACK ON THE RUN - FIELDS
Near a barbed wire fence, Sweetback hears dogs barking and crouches down.
Irrigation sprinklers soak him. He watches farmers at work.
COLORED ANGELS FINALLY
GETTING IT TOGETHER AND
ACTING BLACK
run, Sweetback
run, mother fucker
they bled your sister
Sweetback gets up and runs.
CUT TO:
EXT. HIGHWAY
Sweetback lounging inside of a huge, industrial-type cement drain pipe, one
of three mounted on the back of a tractor trailer rumbling down the highway.
SWEETBACK
they won't bleed me
BLACK ANGELS
run, Sweetback
run, mother fucker
CUT TO:
EXT. LUNCH COUNTER
Sweetback sits outside a burger place eating a sandwich. He sees a cop car,
rises, and moves off. There's a young white guy behind the counter with no
customers to wait on. He looks around pointlessly and walks away.
[NOTE: Appears to be an Orange Julius. According to the menu, visible behind
the counterman's shoulder, you can buy a Chili Dog for 45 cents, a Pickle
Pooch for 35 cents, and a Julius Burger for 55 cents.]
CUT TO:
EXT. TRUCK
A pickup truck full of Mexican workers. They sit in the truck bed. They
stand up and talk. The truck turns off onto the shoulder of the road and
stops. In the cab, the black driver taps on his rear window to signal
Sweetback who jumps down from the bed. The Mexicans point off in the distance
toward the mountains and everybody waves.
MEXICANS
Derecho, amigo ... Mexico
Cuidado.
Mexico...straight ahead.
Vaya con Dios...
The truck pulls away.
CUT TO:
EXT. TRAIN
Sweetback jumps on a moving train.
BLACK ANGELS
they bled your Mama
they bled your brother
they bled your sister
SOME TIME LATER
Sweetback disembarks from the moving train and continues running, parallel to
the tracks.
CUT TO:
EXT. LUNCH COUNTER
Orange Julius again. The white guy behind the counter watches three fags
sitting together as they're questioned by cops:
GAY #1
No chile, I mean, officer, I didn't see Mr.
Sweetback.
GAY #2
If you see him, send him here.
GAY #1
I'm a militant queen.
GAY #3
Won't I do, officer?
The three laugh and sip their orange drinks through straws. The counterman
emerges from behind his counter to clean up a bit and gives the fags a
curious look. Straws in mouths, they respond by popping their eyes wide and
ogling him en masse.
CUT TO:
IN THE DESERT - DAY
Sweetback, dirty and on his knees, stares down at a tiny, muddy puddle of
water. He leans down and puts his face in it to wash off the filth. While
he's at it, he takes a drink. He gets up again, partway, but sinks down for
another mouthful or so. Finally, he gets to his feet and moves slowly but
with increasing speed for the horizon.
The sun beats down wickedly. Sweetback keeps on keeping on but his sanity
seems to be going. Visions of cars, trucks, helicopters, trailers, trains,
cycles, even an airplane -- plus lots of TRACKING SHOTS from same. And he
hears voices:
1. Anybody can tell you that don't add up to a
dollar, that adds up to a dollar and a dime...
2. Come on, stand up straight... what's the matter with you?
3. Buy yourself a last supper, you're a dead man...
4. Your fight, man...What's it gonna be,
your choice, baby...
LATER
Sweetback, sitting under a tree, looks down, sees a lizard, and stomps on it
with his boot. He whips out a switchblade and cuts the lizard's head off with
a grimace, then munches on the body like a candy bar. Like a chewy candy bar.
He closes his knife thoughtfully, rises, and continues on his way, leaving a
few bloody bits of lizard behind. Couldn't taste any worse than a Pickle
Pooch, right?
BLACK ANGELS
they bled your sister
they bled your brother
Sweetback heads slowly but with increasing speed toward the horizon.
CUT TO:
EXT. ROAD
Students, mostly white, moving along a road. A sheriff's car surrounded by
kids has had to slow down to a snail's pace -- it's a youth army heading for
a rock festival.
EXT. ROCK CONCERT
Emerging from the car are two sheriffs deputies in uniform and a sheriff in
civilian clothes. The cops converge on the area, passing in and out among the
youths searching, searching. A deputy runs over to the sheriff.
DEPUTY
I thought I saw Sweetback.
SHERIFF
Where?
The kids freak out listening a folk singer, to the disgusted bemusement of
the other deputy. More police have arrived and they scour the crowd, looking
for their man.
SHERIFF
You saw him?
DEPUTY
Over there in that clump of bushes.
SHERIFF
Sure it's him?
They draw their guns, it sure looks suspicious: the bandstand is that-a-way
and that black guy went the other way.
DEPUTY
If it ain't him, why was he goin' in the wrong
direction?
They sneak up on the bushes... they part the bushes and look down. All they
see is a black guy and girl making love: she's on her back on the ground,
he's on top. Looks like Sweetback's made another conquest. The cops begin to
laugh.
DEPUTY
No wonder he was goin' the wrong way!
They holster their guns and walk off. They don't see the knife Sweetback is
holding against the girl. The other deputy comes over to laugh at them and
then walk away.
CUT TO:
IN THE DESERT AGAIN
A helicopter flies over some windmills and sees nothing. Sweetback hides
behind some sort of corrugated silo.
CUT TO:
EXT. COUNTRY ROAD
Sweetback runs through the trees. A sheriff drives down a country road. He
spots Sweetback who takes off running. The car does a U-turn and drives back
slowly. Then the car throws itself in reverse and does another U-turn and
resumes its original direction, this time in FAST MOTION.
EXT. HOUSE
Barking dogs chained up outside. The sheriff pulls up to the house, jumps
out, runs to the front door and bangs on it. He and another white guy (a dog
trainer) run from the house to the kennels. The sheriff and the trainer run
to the car with three vicious looking dogs in tow on guard leashes. The two
men and the three dogs hop in the car.
EXT. WOODS
Sweetback running. The sound of barking in the distance. Sweetback jumps into
a gully and listens.
SWEETBACK
Fuck!
The sky overhead is blue. Sweetback opens his switchblade, jumps out of the
gully and starts running.
The two men and the dogs run... The trail is fresh and the dogs follow it
with swift, deadly accuracy.
TRAINER
He's heading for the border!
Sweetback moves through the woods, accompanied by gospel voices.
TRAINER
He's going to get there before we do.
The men and dogs are behind -- but not close enough behind.
TRAINER
He's gonna get across the border before we can
catch him. He's gonna get there before we do.
SHERIFF
Goddamn dogs.
TRAINER
Dogs movin' faster than we are.
Sweetback, switchblade in hand, runs through a field.
SHERIFF
Just let me draw a bead on his black ass and
he's dead.
TRAINER
He's further ahead than that.
SHERIFF
Just one Goddamn glimpse of his black ass and
he's dead.
TRAINER
He's gonna make it.
SHERIFF
Let the dogs go!
TRAINER
No, I won't do it.
SHERIFF
Let the dogs go!
TRAINER
I won't!
SHERIFF
God damn it!
TRAINER
I won't do it!
The sheriff and the trainer begin to struggle... one of the dogs breaks loose
and shoots off, his leash behind him. The men fall and roll over and another
dog breaks away...
SHERIFF
Let the dogs loose. They got four legs, we only
got two.
TRAINER
I won't do it, they'll tear him apart.
SHERIFF
Turn loose of those dogs.
BLACK ANGELS
they bled your Mama
they bled your Papa
they bled your brother
Finally, they stop struggling. The dogs are loose. It's too late to stop them.
SHERIFF
Sorry, no hard feelings, I just had to catch
him.
He puts out his hand to shake.
TRAINER
Well, what's done is done. I guess it'll save
the taxpayers some money.
He pats the last dog. They laugh.
BLACK ANGELS
they bled your sister
After a pause:
SHERIFF
Listen, no barking.
TRAINER
(nods)
Yep.
(to the last dog)
Well, I guess there's no sense of you hanging
around here, Rinny. No use in you missing the
fun, Rinny. You go get in on it. Go on, boy...
... and he unfastens the last dog. Rinny runs off, barking.
By now, it's TWILIGHT. The sheriff and the trainer sigh and pick up their
guns and walk slowly over to a place to sit down. They sit and listen to the
dogs growling in the distance. The trainer shakes his head with a wry smile.
The sheriff pats him on the back. The trainer chews on a weed.
DISSOLVE TO:
SOME TIME LATER
The sheriff and the trainer still sitting there as NIGHT has fallen.
Sweetback emerges from the bushes and walks off.
DISSOLVE TO:
RIVER - FIRST DAWN
A wide calm river. Rinny stands on the bank, whimpering. We PAN OVER TO a
dead dog floating in the water, red with blood. Rinny dips his head in the
water and drinks... rocks in the water are bloody. An enormous close up of
dead dog's face half under water... we PULL BACK to see the whole body, lying
in the shallows. The other dog's body floats and rolls over in the water.
In other words: The Man Tries Running His Usual Game But Sweetback's Jones Is
So Strong He Wastes the Hounds (Yeah! Yeah! And Besides That Will Be Coming
Back Takin' Names & Collecting Dues) ...
We PAN UP to the opposite bank and up to the hills in the distance... and
instead of The End the words WATCH OUT burst on the screen, followed by:
A BAAD ASSSSS NIGGER IS COMING BACK
TO COLLECT SOME DUES....
DISSOLVE TO:
TWO VIEWS of Sweetback, one from the rear, and one of him running.
END CREDITS