Straight Outta Compton Page #2

WE HEAR the multi-tracks of the song -- levels go up and down

based on Dre’s subtle FACIAL REACTIONS to the various sounds.

He singles out INDIVIDUAL ELEMENTS, and as he does, WE HEAR

them, highlighting some sounds, decreasing others: BASS,

DRUMS, PIANO, VOICE... It’s pure instinct, pure joy. Until --

5.

BAM-BAM! A fist on a locked door. The music stops as Dre

removes his headphones. We now see -

DRE’S ROOM, populated with turn tables -- one side spinning

the record he’s listening to -- DJ station and a vast sea of

LPs (sure there’s Parliament, but also Duke Ellington)

scattered around the room. A music junkie’s paradise.

On the other bed, his brother TYREE (17) chills as Dre opens

the door to find -

VERNA:

What happened?

VERNA GRIFFIN, 36, his Mother, and she can smell bullshit a

mile away. He flashes his smooth, easy, magnetic Dre-smile.

DRE:

What happened with what?

VERNA:

Andre, boy, don’t play with me. Do

you even care how it makes me look?

Call in favors to get your

thoughtless ass an interview? And

you can’t even show up?

DRE:

(sighs, realizing)

Sorry, I just been so focused on

this DJing that I forgot --

She frowns, shakes her head.

VERNA:

You have a child, Andre. And

spinning records ain't payin’ none

of the bills around here right now.

DRE:

That ain’t even true, momma. I get

paid --

He pulls out a sad little wad of bills, waves it in her face.

Quick as lightning, she SNATCHES it away from him -

VERNA:

Fifty dollars? Damn, you a

billionaire!

-- THROWS it back at his chest.

DRE:

It’s a start --

6.

VERNA:

Andre, you know the rules around

here. In this house, you gonna work

or go to school. I don’t care if

you gonna be a janitor --

DRE:

-- long as I own the company. Yeah,

I know.

Dre fumes, gather the bills off the floor, heads for the

kitchen -

VERNA:

But you don’t own the company.

Lonzo does.

-- but Verna stays hot on his heels -

VERNA (CONT’D)

Oh, you think we’re done here?

Dre keeps going, MUTTERS under his breath -- She grabs his

shoulder, SPINS him around, strong. Gets in his face.

VERNA (CONT’D)

You got somethin’ to say to me!?

DRE:

(explodes)

You don’t care what I’m fighting

for.

I already know what I wanna do with my life, and it

definitely ain’t sittin in a cubicle takin’ orders on some

stupid ass job.

Verna’s eyes FLASH -- WHAP! She SLAPS HIM IN THE FACE --

Dre steps back, puts his hand to his cheek. Verna’s reeling

as much as he is. She tries to compose herself.

VERNA:

People used to tell me I was too

young when I had you -- Said I

wouldn’t be sh*t, said you wouldn’t

be sh*t. Now I been workin’ my ass

off to get us here and I refuse to

let you throw it all away.

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