Brighton Rock

Synopsis: An adaptation of Graham Greene's classic novel about a small-town hood who marries a waitress who witnessed him murdering a rival thug in order to keep her quiet. As his gang begins to doubt his abilities, the man becomes more desperate and violent.
Genre: Crime, Drama, Thriller
Director(s): Rowan Joffe
Production: IFC Films
  1 win & 8 nominations.
Rotten Tomatoes:
111 min

Come on, Spicer.

Pick up the phone,

you drunken cur's son, you.

You old drunk. Get off the f***ing sofa,

you old cur's son!

Come on, Spicer.

I need the boys down here.

I'm in a bit of trouble here.

Oh, f***.



Old Kitesy's got two rats on his tail.

Eh? Eh? Let's get out of here.


Come on. Come on. Yeah?


Your turn. You're first.


Kite should never

have taken on Colleoni.

Without Kite, this mob's finished.

- I say we lay low.

- We lay low, they'll stamp on us.

I say we hit back. Dallow?

No one gets near Colleoni.

Then we carve his cronies.

Starting with the c*nt

what stuck Kite.

What do you say, Spicer?

Pinkie, you get a good look at him, kid?

No, no, listen, Mr Colleoni.

It was an accident, I'm telling you.

He was tooled up.

Mr Colleoni? Mr...

You pull a chiv, son...

you'd better be ready to use it.

"The young have captured

this ancient island

"and taken command in a country

where youth has always before

"been kept properly in its place.

"Suddenly, the young own the town. "

Hello, Ida.

- Port and lemon, Bell.

- You were young once, you old ghost.

One minute they want the vote,

the next minute the feckless gobshites

are tearing up the south coast.

Yeah. Bring back the birch, I say.

Larrup it out of 'em.

You want to take care.

First Hastings, then Margate.

Brighton'll be bleedin' next.

Oh. Give us a moment, sweetheart.

Right you are, Ida.

Fancy a dance, girl?

Hello, Fred.


Yeah. Yeah, just a quickie.

Port and lemon.

Not having one yourself?

I've had enough.

Don't want to get sleepy.

What is it this time, Fred?

Oh, I'm...

I'm in Dutch, Ida, you know.

- How much?

- Not here, eh?

I haven't got it, Fred.

Fancy some lunch?

What was it? Dogs or gee-gees?

- It's complicated.

- Oh.

It's that bad, is it?

Come for a bite, Ida, please. Old times.

You don't look well.

Fred, you're not sick, are you?

Come for lunch, Ida, please.

I... I need the company.

Why don't you have a bite here?

You can make him a ham sandwich,

can't you?

- I can make him a ham sandwich.

- No, thanks.

Best be getting on.

Thanks, anyway.

Hey! Oi!

Ready? One, two, three.

- Do you want a cigarette?

- I don't smoke.

F*** off, then.

Give us a stick of rock.

- Cigarette?

- No, thanks.

- You down for the day, yeah?

- I'm on a break from Snows.

That's nice.

You gonna sit on your own all day,

are you?

I've got to get back in a minute.

Fancy a stroll?

We could pop up the prom.

I'll buy you an ice cream.

No, I couldn't be late back from lunch.

I'm Fred, by the way.


Fancy a drink, Rose?

You're very kind

but I'd better get back.

Never mind, I'll walk you.

I know Snows.

There you are, Fred.

This is my new friend, Rose.

Pleased to meet you, Rose.

Where are we going, Fred?

- We're going for something to eat.

- I've got to get back.

- I know a good place.

- Does it do sundaes? They're your fave.

- I couldn't possibly...

- The best sundaes.

Forget it. Rose likes splits best.

Don't you?

Let's go, Fred.

- I said, let's go.

- Say cheese.

There you are. Lovely!

You have been pom-pommed.

There you are, love.

Whatever you do, don't lose the slip.

No slip, no photo. All right?

Pom Pom's, just there.


We was only supposed

to carve him.

Just enough to let

Colleoni know we ain't finished.

He knows.

You're a runner, Pinkie.

You don't do nothing without our say-so.

If we meant to kill him,

we'd have done it ourselves.

Spicer. The bird from Snows -

she get a good look at you?

More than a good look.

She got a bloody photograph!

- That ain't the kid's fault.

- Whose fault is it, then?

Lousy seaside snap wouldn't matter

if we wasn't accessories to a murder.

Christ Al-f***ing-mighty.

We could hang for this.

We'd better get hold of that photo...

...before anyone else does.

- Well done, Dallow.


Pinkie, you'll get hold

of the photograph, won't you, boy?

- Why me?

- You're a pickpocket, ain't you?

Don't be soft. I ain't got the slip.

"No slip, no photo. "

So snatch the slip, boy.

- Can I help you, sir?

- I want to order.

- You're late for lunch, I'm sorry.

- I want a cup of tea.

Would you mind sitting at

one of the tables laid for tea?

This table suits me.

It does.

It's next to the door you'll be leaving

through as soon as you've finished.

And a plate of biscuits.

- Rose?

- Coming, Miss Arnold.

Sorry to keep you waiting, sir.

It's all right.

Miss Arnold just gave me a lecture.

I wouldn't mind but it wasn't my fault.

I was late back from lunch.

A man on the... Oh!

A man on the pier... Sorry.

I get nervous and I talk too much.

Out for a stroll?

- Sorry?

- You and your boyfriend?

No, I'd never seen him before

in my life.

I was on my lunch break and a friend

of his turned up and he just ran off.

Why would someone do that?

Some fellas don't know

how to treat a girl.

You're like me - old-fashioned.

Am I?

You and me have got a bit in common.

You're the kind of girl I like.

I like a girl who's friendly.

Some of them, they freeze you.

They freeze me.

You're sensitive. That's what that is.

Like me.

You and me should go out one evening.

Go to the pictures.

- What's your name?

- Rose.


- I'm Pinkie.

- Pleased to meet you.

But your tea...

We've been talking and I had

an appointment at 4.30 sharp.

- Sorry, you should have stopped me.

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Rowan Joffé

Rowan Marc Joffé is a British screenwriter and director. He is the son of director Roland Joffé and actress Jane Lapotaire, and half-brother of actress Nathalie Lunghi. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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