The Education of Charlie Banks

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All right.

Make it two. Make it two.

(steam hissing)

(horns honking)

Man:
I haven't got all day!

Children chanting: Hubies! Hubies!

Hubies! Hubies!

(children cheering)

I want to play in that game so bad.

Yeah, right, Banks.

You've got to be at least 5' tall.

Rejected.

Yo, there's that kid I was

telling you about-- Mick Leary.

He's the baddest kid

in the village.

Charlie's voice:

The first time I saw him,

Mick was already infamous.

Danny told the story

of the legendary ass-kicking

Mick gave Alfie Lucio for tagging

over his tag on the schoolyard wall--

how Alfie was begging for mercy,

but Mick just wouldn't stop.

Alfie:
Stop stop stop!

Charlie's voice:
I couldn't get

my 10-year-old head around it.

How could he do that?

How could he not stop?

Did you see that?

He knows me.

Yeah, man, he said

"What's up?" to me.

Charlie's voice:
Every kid grows up

with a bogeyman under his bed.

Mine terrorized Greenwich Village

and smoked Newports.

(guests chattering)

If I had a mind to

I wouldn't want to think like you

And if I had time to

I wouldn't want to talk to you

Ohh-hh

I don't care what you do

I wouldn't want to be like you

Yeah

If I was high class

I wouldn't need a buck to pass

If I was a fall guy

I wouldn't need no alibi

I don't care what you do

I wouldn't want to be like you

Oh oh, yeah

Back on the bottom line

Digging for a lousy dime...

(can rattling)

(woman giggling)

Stop it. Stop.

Oh, hey, Mick.

Hey, boy.

- Yo.

- Hey, Gabby.

- Hey, Mick.

- What're you doing?

Hey, this is Charlie.

- Hey, what's up?

- Hey.

Um, this is Beth.

Hey.

Hey, do I know you?

Um, not officially.

No no no, he lives uptown.

He goes to Trinity.

I know him from Hubies.

Oh.

It's nice to officially meet

another of Danny boy's boojie friends

from his boojie sports camp.

(can hissing)

BC.

Blue collar-- big color.

Any friend of Danny boy's

is a friend of mine.

Oh. No, I don't have a tag.

Boojie boy.

Okay. How do you spell that?

Give me that.

Hey, he likes you.

Yeah.

- Yo, Danny, come on.

- Hey, shut up.

All right.

Yeah, right?

Hey.

- Hey, whoa.

- Tim, get off me.

Danny, Mick, this is Julie's cousin

from Larchmont-- Tim.

And that's Owen.

Hey, what's up, guys?

Yo, you mind vacating

so I can piss?

Yeah, I mind.

You want to watch me?

Gabby:
Tim, shut up.

Just wait a minute.

Yeah, right.

The guy's being a dick.

Seriously, get the f*** out.

You guys, just use the bathroom

downstairs. I'm serious.

F*** no.

Do I look like a p*ssy?

Yeah, kind of.

Outside.

Lead the way.

You're f***ing dead.

Duty calls.

- No.

- Why? Are you sure?

Yeah. Booje, let's go,

- you and me, come on.

- What?

- Come on.

- What?

Don't worry about it.

Go with him. You'll be fine.

- No, l--

- Don't worry about it. Go.

All right.

All right.

(loud bang)

Hold my gold.

Girl:
Do something.

Ooh, now you really

look like a p*ssy.

Blue collar-- big color.

Boojie--

B-O-O-J-l-E.

(fence rattles)

Man:
Your statement's

very incriminating.

We can put this guy away

with your help.

What is he being charged with?

Attempted murder.

Both boys are

in critical condition.

Attempted murder?

How bad is this kid?

He's got a substantial jacket.

You heard the phrase

"born to lose"?

Coined for Leary.

So what's his story?

No father, a sketchy mother,

mostly state-raised.

Got charisma, though.

Got a following

down in the village--

good kids too,

like Charlie.

That's mostly about

beating up rich kids

and graffiti.

I'm not a part of it.

Not many kids would have the guts

to do what you're doing.

You should be proud

of yourself.

Spread 'em. Spread 'em.

Come on, read him his

f***ing rights or something.

- Give me your hand.

- Are you f***ing kidding me?

Shut up.

Give me your other hand.

Come on.

Let's go. Let's go.

This is bullshit, man.

Go.

I smell your f***ing cologne,

you piece of sh*t.

(rings doorbell)

Man:
I got it.

(quiet piano music playing)

(door opens and closes)

Oh, hey. Hey.

You guys know

Charlie Banks, right?

- Hi.

- Do we?

Guess what.

Well, Mick's in jail.

Somebody ratted him out

for beating up those two guys

at Gary's party. Remember?

Who?

I don't know.

- Holy sh*t.

- Yeah, seriously.

So what's gonna happen?

I don't know,

but whoever ratted him out

better not show their face

below 14th Street again.

They'd get their asses kicked.

You think he should go to jail?

No.

I don't know, he hurt those guys

at the party pretty bad.

The deal with Mick is,

you know, he can be

a really great guy.

But he's just--

he's got this thing.

I mean, you saw

how cool he was with you.

Yeah, he called me boojie.

So? You are.

I am and you're not?

F*** no.

You can't tag and be a booje.

Danny, you're rich.

You're pretty much boojie.

I'm not rich.

I told you that already.

I'm not rich.

My parents are rich.

Yeah, right.

Look, Mick's my friend,

you know?

We grew up in the neighborhood

together.

He's got my back no matter what.

That's what friends do for each other.

It's what I'd do for you.

No matter what?

Yeah, no matter what.

All right, come on.

(chattering)

You know what? Actually, Danny,

I'm gonna go help my dad at the store.

- Are you serious?

- Yeah. I'll see you later.

All right, later,

you f***ing weirdo.

- Man:
Danny.

- Yo.

(distant siren wailing)

Danny:
Yo, Terry.

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