Brooklyn Rules

Synopsis: Michael 'Mike' Turner is handsome, bright, a resourceful law student and perfect gentleman. Mike were perfect hadn't he been born in late 20th century Brooklyn, a New York borough dominated by the mob, in his case Carmine Mancuso, who luckily chooses to protect bright Mike, even against mob ruffian Gino, and his two inseparable buddies. Cocky Carmine Mancuso actually chooses to join the bloody business, sparing only his youth friends. Third mate Bobby Canzoneri, whose equally dumb parents hosted the gang as kids, naively aims no higher then tenure in the US Post. Yet Bobby ends up dead when a mob war erupts.
Genre: Crime, Drama
Director(s): Michael Corrente
Production: City Lights Pictures
 
IMDB:
6.4
Metacritic:
53
Rotten Tomatoes:
45%
R
Year:
2007
99 min
$241,925
Website
14 Views

Now we're reading

from the letter of St. Paul

to the Philippians.

Brothers and sisters,

as long as in every way,

whether in pretense or in truth,

Christ is being proclaimed...

In catholic school,

they taught us that Jesus died

for our sins.

With his blood,

he made the ultimate sacrifice:

Giving his life.

In Brooklyn...

we learned of another sacrifice...

Heads.

Taking a life.

I guess you can call this my confession,

Except I'm not asking for forgiveness.

That's Bobby,

one of my two best friends,

the sweetest guy in the world

but a legendary cheapskate.

This is Carmine:
great guy

but incredibly vain, even as a kid.

This, of course, is me.

Okay, I know what you're thinking.

How could I steal

from a church collection plate?

Well, I knew stealing

was supposed to be a sin,

but I learned to live

by a different set of rules.

Whoa.

Get up!

Get up. You hear me?

And god f*ckin' help you, Donny,

if I find out you lied to me!

Boo!

What's your name?

Carmine Mancuso.

Your mother Italian?

Yes, sir.

I gotta go take a leak, all right?

All right.

Don't get lost.

Man, these uniforms suck.

They should let us wear

bell-bottoms.

What, like Keith Partridge?

Nah, that guy's a queer-

Him and that redheaded kid.

Oh, man.

Guys! Come here!

Carmine! Michael!

Hurry up!

Oh, f*ck.

Whoa.

Whoa.

Let me see.

No way, man.

It's mine.

Hey, puppy.

Aw, look.

You okay?

He's cute.

Ooh, sharp teeth.

what should we do with him?

Nothin'.

I'm keepin' him.

Well, you're a spunky one, aren't you?

This is creepy, guys.

Let's get out of here.

Bobby did end up keeping the dog,

and Carmine kept the lighter.

As for me, you can bet your ass

I kept that gun.

By 1985, we were all grown up

and still close as ever.

Carmine had fallen in love

with himself.

I mean, if you told the guy

to go f*ck himself,

he'd actually consider it.

Bobby was still a sweetheart,

Living at home and cheap as ever,

throwing quarters around

like they were manhole covers.

Come on, Sparky.

As for me, despite the fact

that I was basically

a neighborhood f*ck-up,

I had somehow managed

to scam my way into Columbia-

Me, a jerk-off from Brooklyn,

in the Ivy League.

And don't get me wrong.

I'm not saying I was stupid.

I loved to read and was

a pretty good writer too.

For me, school was a way out

of the neighborhood,

a chance to be something.

I figured, with my natural

ability to bullshit

and near-total lack of conscience,

I should be a lawyer.

My plan was to buy a big house

in Westchester,

where I'd play tennis and water polo

and shit like that.

Hey! What are you, f*ckin' blind?

But in my neighborhood,

it was better to keep ambitions

like water polo to yourself.

What the f*ck already?

Just valet it.

You cheap cocksucker.

I'm not cheap.

Please, if you saw a sign that

said "free slaps in the face, "

you'd be the first on line.

Oh, my god.

Oh, my god. Whoa.

We gotta park.

Park? They got valet right here!

I'm not valeting. It's a rip-off.

Look at that ass over there.

That's a guy, Bobby.

Come on.

Ha, ha, ha, ha.

That's not a guy.

Pretty good, Bobby,

we're like 19 miles away.

So we'll get some exercise.

I don't need exercise.

I did 200 push-ups today.

- Oh, was he happy?

- Was who happy?

The guy underneath you,

was he happy?

What are you laughing at

with those f*cking shoes?

What?

They're penny loafers.

Yeah, I know what they are.

My grandfather has the same ones.

It's called a classic look, asshole.

Classic?

Meaning, it never goes out of style

like that sweater's gonna do

in about 20 minutes.

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Terence Winter

Terence Patrick Winter (born October 2, 1960) is an American writer and producer of television and film. He is the creator, writer, and executive producer of the HBO television series Boardwalk Empire (2010–14). Before creating Boardwalk Empire, Winter was a writer and executive producer for the HBO television series The Sopranos, from the show's second to sixth and final season (2000–2007). In 2013, he wrote the screenplay to Martin Scorsese's The Wolf of Wall Street for which he was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Adapted Screenplay. He is the co-creator, writer and executive producer of another HBO television drama series, Vinyl (2016–present). more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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"Brooklyn Rules" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2019. Web. 17 Oct. 2019. <https://www.scripts.com/script/brooklyn_rules_4737>.

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