Synopsis: The story of the rise and fall of the infamous Chicago gangster Al Capone and the control he exhibited over the city during the prohibition years. Unusually, briefly covering the years after Capone was imprisoned.
Director(s): Steve Carver
Production: Twentieth Century Fox
101 min

Come on. Hurry up.

Hello, operator? Get me the police.

- Bet these are worth 20 grand.

- Shut up.

Hold it.

Get up against the car.

Spread them out.

Come on. Move.

F***ing wops.

Get up. Okay, get up. Come on.

Okay, you guinea son of a b*tch,

who were they?

I don't know.

Easy, Mike, easy.

Give the lad a chance.

You got trouble.

Big trouble.

You know that, don't you?

- I didn't mean anything.

- Look...

...they're gonna put you away

for 10 years. Easy.

Unless you open up.

Captain, I swear.

I didn't know those two guys.

I figured it was a stickup going on,

I wanted to help.

You see two uniformed policemen

making a pinch...

...and you think it's a stickup?

It was dark in there. I couldn't see.


All right, beat it.

- Just a goddamn minute, lieutenant...

- That'll be enough of that.

- Come on, get out of here.

- Sure thing, lieutenant.

It was only a mistake, that's all.

Right, officer?

Do you want your goddamn head

busted, you f***ing wop?

Goddamn fink.


I got a call from

Judge McQuade's bailiff.

Seems His Honor would

appreciate us letting this guy go.

Not only didn't His Honor know

why this guy was pulled in...

...he didn't even know

his goddamn name.

Now, how is that for a laugh, huh?

Hop in, kid.

- Yeah, says who?

- Says me.

Up yours.

Get in.

- You have a name?

- Alphonse Capone.

Everybody calls me Al.

Your father own a barbershop

on Navy Street?

- Yeah, that's right.

- I know him, Frank.

Gabriel Capone, nice man.

When you see him, you just tell him

that Johnny Torrio sends his respects.

I sure will, Mr. Torrio.

- Who tipped you off on the fur heist?

- Nobody.

Nobody tipped me off, Mr. Yale.

See, I got this girl.

She lives on Myrtle Avenue...

...and I'm coming home. I see this squad

pull in the alley, grab these two fellas.

I put my nose in, that's all.

- You know our boys were in there?

- Well, I don't know your boys.

Least I don't think I know them.

Anyway, I tell you the truth... was so dark

you couldn't see nobody's face.

You're gonna tell me that you jumped

two cops with nothing in it for you?

Now that I think of it, if I'd thought

about it, I wouldn't have done it.

I just don't like cops, that's all.

- Here.

- Oh, no.

Please, Mr. Yale. It was a pleasure

to do a man like you a favor.

An important man like you.

My pleasure, I swear.

Yeah. You go out there, see Solly.

Tell him to drive you over

to St. Vincent's. Fix up that face.

Sure thing, Mr. Yale.

- Thank you.

- Go ahead.

You too, Mr. Torrio.

Pleasure to meet you.

Hey, how'd you make out, kid?

- "J.M." Who's J.M.?

- Judge McQuade, 20th District.

Frank, 2000 a month?

He keeps the fourth ward

whorehouses open.

Fifty thousand dollars a month, clear.

You do that good in Chicago?

A little bit here, a little bit there.

It adds up.

Remember when we were kids?

We had rags on our backs.

Had cockroaches in the oatmeal.

Crabs on our balls

from the stinky toilets.

But one thing we did have,

we had brains.

Even as kids we had brains.

These punks today have nothing.

They got brains up their ass.

No, no. Not all of them, Frank.

Young Capone.

You didn't believe that story he told,

did you? He called the cops.

Come on. Do you remember

we were kids?

- How we got the big shots to notice us?

- You bastard.

Twenty thousand clear from that fur

heist. I ought to have his neck broke.

If I were you,

I'd put him on the payroll.

I gotta get going.


Give regards to Big Jim.

- Yeah. He's still buying diamonds.

- Respect, huh?


I don't wanna argue

with you, Johnny.

Sure Prohibition comes in. So what?

There'll be a few wise guys bootlegging

the stuff, but not Big Jim Colosimo.

I don't wanna tangle with no feds.

Federal badges or not,

they all got their hands out.

Name the right price and I guarantee

they'll be on the take like anybody else.

Look, I'm doing okay with my

whorehouses and my gambling spots.

What's the matter, Johnny?

Ten grand a month don't satisfy you?

Not when there's a chance

to rake in millions.

What the hell would I do with millions?

Buy more diamonds? Here. Diamonds.

Johnny, let me tell you something.

If Prohibition comes in,

it ain't gonna last six months.

You take beer and booze away from

people, they're gonna be sore as hell.

One thing the politicians can't afford

is to have the voters mad at them.

So forget about this bootlegging.

I want no part of it.

That's my last word.

Operator. Number, please?

Long distance, please.

- Operator.

- Brooklyn, New York, operator.

Yeah, Mr. Frankie Yale.

- Prospect-1107.

- Thank you.

My number is Wabash-6215.

Hello. Hello, Frank.

Johnny. Yeah, yeah. Fine, fine.

Well, how about you?

Yeah, well, listen, Frank.

The reason why I'm calling.

I'm in a situation out here. I gotta

have somebody to give me a hand.

No, no.

Somebody I can trust 100 percent.

Are you kidding? In this town?

I wouldn 't even trust

the pope if he came from Chicago.

I was thinking about, you know,

this Alphonse Capone.

He comes to my mind.

- Hey, Alphonse.

- Hey, Johnny.

What happened?

I was beginning to worry.

- I had to find a hotel.

- I should have arranged all of that.

But never mind.

We'll take care of that later.

Come on upstairs.

I want you to meet some friends.

- What do you think?

- It's a beauty.

It's all right. Come on.

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Howard Browne

Howard Browne (April 15, 1908 – October 28, 1999) was a science fiction editor and mystery writer. He also wrote for several television series and films. Some of his work appeared over the pseudonyms John Evans, Alexander Blade, Lawrence Chandler, Ivar Jorgensen, and Lee Francis. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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