The-Godfather - The Godfather 2 Scene 7 lyrics

[INT. THE HOSPITAL CORRIDOR - FULL VIEW - NIGHT] [The activity at the end of the hall has come to rest; we can tell that the doctor tells Mrs. Roth that she should go, the old man will be taken to a room where he can rest. Gradually, these people leave him in the care of the hospital staff. Bussetta watches from the distance of the hallway; after the old man has been moved, he quietly walks down the hallway to the room.] [HIS VIEW] [A nurse sits in the room in attendance; Hyman Roth is asleep, his mouth wide open, breathing noisily.] [VIEW ON BUSSETTA] [Hears footsteps, quickly steps away from the door, and into another room. Some nurses and attendants speak to the nurse in the room in Spanish; one has brought a small bottle of wine, and obviously they are inviting the nurse to have a New Year's toast with them. They laugh; and the nurse steps away from the room for a moment. Bussetta moves slowly back into the room, alone with the helpless Roth.] [INT. PRESIDENTIAL PALACE - FULL VIEW ON THE GUESTS - NIGHT] [Seeing in the New Year; a great banner is hoisted up in Spanish, welcoming 1959.] [Hands are shaken; kisses exchanged.] [MED. CLOSE VIEW] [Michael and Fredo in an embrace; they kiss one another.] MICHAEL: I've arranged for a plane; we're going to Miami in an hour. Try not to make a big thing of it. [He kisses his brother once again.] MICHAEL *Sicilian*: I know it was you, Fredo. You've broken my heart. [Slowly, understanding, Fredo backs away from his brother, taking the kiss another way. A little distance away, Major Leon notices an old woman, one of the President's maids, moving across the alcove, carrying her suitcases.] LEON: What a pity; she's crying. Must have been fired, and she's been with the President's family for twenty years. [EXT. HAVANA STREETS - NIGHT] [The gathered crowd joyously welcomes the New Year. We notice the continual military movement.] [MED. VIEW] [A family surreptitiously leaves their home, carrying suitcases and belongings.] [INT. ROTH'S HOSPITAL ROOM - NIGHT] [Bussetta raises a hospital pillow, and easily begins to smother the thin old man, who can barely struggle.] [OUT IN THE HALL] [A detachment of military move quickly, accompanied by some of Roth's men, as though they have important news that must be dealt with. They pa** the small group of aides and nurses welcoming the New Year.] [Seeing them, the nurse a**igned to him, puts down her gla** and moves quickly to the room. She opens the door, and lays bare the sight of Bussetta smothering Roth. Bussetta turns quickly; and one of the military takes out his pistol and shoots several times at his head.] [INT. PRESIDENTIAL PALACE - NIGHT] [The entire reception has been disrupted for an announcement; all the guests in their formal dress and evening gowns, standing with frightened faces like first cla** pa**engers on a doomed ship. The President himself, his back to our VIEW, is making an announcement in Spanish. While he speaks, we notice continuous movement of his personal staff, carrying suitcases and possessions.] PRESIDENT: ...Because of serious setbacks of our troops in Guantanamo and Santiago, we feel reluctantly, that we must leave the Capital at once. Myself and my family must bid you goodbye, and good fortune. We will go directly to Ciudad Trujillo. [The crowd is stunned; already whispers are moving throughout the guests. The only one who is not completely taken off guard is Michael, who quietly steps back, and disappears from the room.] PRESIDENT: ...My only regret is that therecould not have been more warning... As my last official act as President, I hereby appoint a provisional government with Dr. Carlos M. Piedra, as its President. [By now, there is only one thought among the guests: how can they get out, and with what.] [EXT. PRESIDENTIAL PALACE - NIGHT] [We see evidence of the confusion at this late hour; already cars are beginning to move; people leaving the Palace in haste. Michael moves quickly toward his car. He sees Fredo, watching him in fear.] MICHAEL: Come with me. It's your only way of getting out! [VIEW ON FREDO] [Terrified of his brother, and what he knows; Fredo backs away into the growing noise and confusion of the crowd.] [VIEW ON MICHAEL] [Finally, he has to step into the car and it roars off.] [EXT. HAVANA STREETS - NIGHT] [Rebel cars with loudspeakers have already picked up the news that Batista has conceded...this throws the crowds already gathered for the New Year into cheers of joy. They hara** a wealthy family who are trying to get away in their car.] [The people pull them out of the car, opening their suitcases, out of which spill piles of cash and j**elry into street. Michael's car makes its way as the crowd cheers: "El animale se fue!"] [EXT. THE UNITED STATES EMBASSY - MED. VIEW - NIGHT] [Crowds of panicked and frightened tourists, and Batistianos are trying to get to the safety of the Emba**y with the families and possessions. We see Geary, and some of the Americans we had met, working their way through the crowds, shouting that they are Americans in order to get preference on the line. Often that declaration brings 'boos' from the crowds. Sometimes the joyous Cubans will let a family through, but again, taking away the suitcases, rich leather, filled with money and valuables. Money seems to be stuffed everywhere.] [EXT. THE YACHT CLUB - NIGHT] [All forms of private transportation are jammed with people trying to get out, holding cash in their hands for anyone with a yacht or small boat to get them to Florida. A car pulls up; and we see Sam Roth, Terri Roth and some of their men, carry the sickly, but still alive Hyman Roth to a private cruiser which is protected by men with machine guns. Within seconds, they are on their way to Miami.] [EXT. THE PRIVATE AIRPORT - NIGHT] [Things are no different at the airport; where anything that can fly is being jammed with refugees and their money. A wealthy family is arguing with the pilot of a fast airplane; trying to force cash on him, and his family into the plane. The PILOT steadfastly refuses, although checking his watch, as though his pa**engers are late. He speaks only English.] PILOT: No, this is a private plane. No, this plane is taken. [Finally Michael's Mercury pulls up, and Michael approaches the Pilot.] MICHAEL: He isn't here. PILOT: We've got to leave, they'll take this thing apart. MICHAEL: All right. Go now. [The Pilot lets Michael in, as the Cuban screams curses at them, and begins searching for another plane for his family.] [INT. THE PLANE - VIEW ON THE PILOT - NIGHT] [As the propeller turns over.] [EXT. THE AIRPORT - FULL VIEW - NIGHT] [Groups of the cheering, celebrating Cubans sing "Guantanamera," now as a song of triumph.] [INT. THE PLANE - MOVING VIEW - MICHAEL - NIGHT] [Closer to him, his personal and business life caught in the middle of history.] [EXT. NEW YORK STREET - MED. VIEW - DAY *1920*] [He stops to pick out some choice oranges and peaches from a fruit stand. Then he reaches into his pocket for change.] VENDOR: No, no. It is my pleasure to make this a gift. [CLOSE VIEW ON VITO] VITO: You are kind. If ever I can do something for you, in return, please come to me. [INT. VITO'S TENEMENT - DAY] [Despite his new position of 'respect,' there is little changed about his home. Only that they have lived there a while now, and the rooms are fuller with the inevitable possessions a young family acquires. He kisses his wife, who seems a big apprehensive. He shows her the fruit; and from her reaction knows she has something on her mind.] VITO *Sicilian*: What is it? CARMELLA *Sicilian*: Come... [They step into the tiny parlor, where we see an older woman, waiting nervously.] CARMELLA: The Signora is a friend of mine. She has a favor to ask of you. VITO *Sicilian*: Why do you come to me? SIGNORA COLOMBO *Sicilian*: She told me to ask you. [He seems surprised; looks to his wife.] CARMELLA: She is having some trouble. Her landlord has received complaints because of her dog. He told her to get rid of it, but her boy loved it, so they tried to hide it. When the landlord found out, he was so angry, he ordered her to leave. Even if she truly will let the dog go. SIGNORA COLOMBO *Sicilian*: He said he would have the police put us out. VITO: *thoughtfully* I can give you some money to help you move, is that what you want? SIGNORA COLOMBO: My friends are all here; how can I move to another neighborhood with strangers? I want you to speak to the landlord to let me stay. [Vito nods to the frightened old woman.] VITO: It's done then. You won't have to move; I'll speak to him tomorrow morning. [Carmella breaks into a smile; which her husband does not acknowledge. The old woman starts to leave the room; but she is not convinced.] SIGNORA COLOMBO: You're sure he'll say yes, the landlord? VITO: I'm sure he's a good-hearted fellow. Once I explain how things are with you, I'm sure he'll take pity on your misfortunes. Don't let it trouble you any more. *as he shows her out* Guard your health, for the sake of your children. [EXT. TENEMENT BLOCK - DAY] [SIGNOR ROBERTO, a pompous, rather well-dressed Patrone angrily walks down the steps of one of his tenement buildings. He carries a check list, and makes marks with a pencil concerning the condition of his various buildings; a broken window here, some missing tile there. He bends over to pick up some garbage left by a thoughtless tenant, muttering to himself, when he sees the shoes and legs of a young worker.] VITO *O.S.*: Signore Roberto... [He rises to be face to face with a polite Vito Corleone.] VITO: The friend of my wife, a poor widow with no man to protect her, tells me that for some reason she has been ordered to move from your building. She is in despair. She has no money, she has no friends except those that live here. [Signor Roberto brusquely answers, and continues on his way.] ROBERTO: I have already rented the apartment to another family. [MOVING SHOT ON THE TWO] VITO: I told her I would speak to you, that you are a reasonable man who acted out of some misunderstanding. She has gotten rid of the animal that caused all the trouble, so why shouldn't she stay. As one Italian to another, I ask you the favor. ROBERTO: I've already rented it; I cannot disappoint the new tenants. They're paying a higher rent. VITO: How much more a month? ROBERTO: Eh... *we sense he is lying* Five dollars more. [Vito reaches into his pocket, and takes out a roll of bills.] VITO: Here is the six month's increase in advance. You needn't speak to her about it, she's a proud woman. See me again in another six months. But of course, you'll let her keep her dog. ROBERTO: Like hell! And who the hell are you to give me orders. Watch your manners or you'll be on your Sicilian a** in the street there. [Vito raises his hands in surprise; his voice is reasonable.] VITO: I'm asking you a favor, only that. One never knows when one might need a friend, isn't that true? Here, take this money as a sign of my good-will, and make your own decision. I won't quarrel with it. *he puts the money in Roberto's hand* Do me this little favor, just take it and think carefully. Tomorrow morning if you want to give me the money back, by all means do so. If you want the woman out of your house, how can I stop you? It's your property, after all. If you don't want the dog in there, I can understand. I dislike dogs myself. *he pats Roberto on the shoulder* Do me this service, eh? I won't forget it. Ask your friends in this neighborhood about me, they'll tell you I'm a man who believes in showing his gratitude. [Without a word more, Vito leaves a hypnotized Roberto standing in front of the tenement, his hand clasping the money.] [EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD STREET - DAY] [A thin young man, almost gawky, walks down the street in this Italian neighborhood, his name is HYMAN SUCHOWSKY. He carries his tools as he comes home from work. He is pursued and tormented by a couple of Italian youths, about his own age, eighteen. ITALIAN BOY: Kid, where do you live? ANOTHER: Where'd you get those n******g lips? [He tries not to be intimidated; finally one of the boys, steps in front of him and stops him.] ITALIAN BOY: Say 'bread' in Italian. ANOTHER: He dunno. ITALIAN BOY: Go on; how do you say 'bread' in Italian? If you're from the neighborhood, you should know how to say 'bread' in Italian. [An amused Peter Clemenza steps forward from a local coffee house, to preside over the fuss. He's a 'big' man in the neighborhood, and loves a fight.] CLEMENZA: What's up? ITALIAN BOY: This kid lives around here, but he can't say bread in Italian. CLEMENZA: That's 'cause he's Jew. Look at those pregnant lips! [He giggles at his own joke.] ITALIAN BOY: Are you a Jewboy? [The boy doesn't answer, tries to keep going.] ITALIAN BOY: Well, if you're not a Jew, say 'bread' in Italian. See, he can't. [And with that, he rounds a blow squarely to the boy's face, sending him sprawling to the cement, his tools flying with a clatter. The other Italian immediately joins in with a few kicks to the boy's stomach. Hyman tries to fight back; grabs a hold of his tormentor's foot, and brings him down on the cement as well. For a moment, they are rolling around on the sidewalk, two against one, Hyman taking the worst of it.] CLEMENZA: Alright, alright, cut it out. SECOND ITALIAN: What for? He k**ed Jesus Christ! [Clemenza pulls him off, and kicks him in the a**.] CLEMENZA: I said cut it out! *to the beaten kid* What's your name? HYMAN: Hyman Suchowsky. ITALIAN BOY: I don't believe it. In our neighborhood, with a name like that! CLEMENZA: What are those tools? You work on cars? HYMAN: Yeah. CLEMENZA: Maybe I know how you can make a couple of extra bucks working as a mechanic. [The boy seems agreeable.] CLEMENZA: But you gotta know how to keep your mouth shut, and fer Chrissakes, get rid of that name. I'll call you Johnny Lips. *he giggles at his own humor again* Come on... [He leads the boy down the street, whispering to him, on the side:] CLEMENZA: Bread in Italian is pane. P-A-N-E, pane. Don't forget. [INT. NEW GENCO WAREHOUSE - DAY] [A newly acquired warehouse, stocked with cases of the new product "GENCO PURA" olive oil. It is the beginning of a new business, in the American tradition. Now they have one rattling old truck, and a few stock boys. Genco has become the accountant-business manager, based on the experience working with his father. But it is clear, that Vito is the leader, and undisputed 'President' of the new enterprise. Genco moves through the darkness of the warehouse, to the small divided area that Vito uses as his office.] GENCO *Sicilian*: The 'patrone' is here. VITO: Chi? GENCO: Roberto. Who owns the 'rat-holes.' [Vito nods that he will see him; and soon Roberto enters, on tiptoe, his hat in his hand, and in a apologetic voice.] ROBERTO: Excuse me, I hope I am not a disturbance, Don Corleone. VITO: Yes. ROBERTO: What a terrible misunderstanding. Of course, Signora Colombo can stay in the flat. Who were those miserable tenants to complain about noise from a poor animal...when they pay such low rent. [Then abruptly, he puts the roll of money on Vito's table, and steps back a respectful distance.] ROBERTO: Your good heart in helping the poor widow has shamed me, and I want to show that I, too, have some Christian charity. Her rent will remain what it was. VITO: What was that? ROBERTO: In fact, reduced, bu five dollars! [Vito embraces him warmly.] VITO: I accept your generosity... ROBERTO: I won't keep you another minute... [He quickly takes his leave, bowing several times, and then makes it back to the safety of the warehouse; he sighs, deflates his lungs, and mops his brow; his bones have turned too jelly with fear at his narrow escape. He all but runs out of the warehouse. Genco laughs as he watches.] GENCO: We won't see him for weeks! He'll stay in bed in the Bronx! [Clemenza has been waiting with his new mechanic. We notice the subtle difference in the way he treats Vito. He is no longer a junior apprentice in their petty crimes; but an imposing leader.] CLEMENZA: This kid is good with cars; he kiijed at the truck, and says he can keep it going. [Vito looks over the lanky young man.] CLEMENZA: What's your name? HYMAN: Suchowsky. Hyman Suchowsky. CLEMENZA: He's gonna dump that; I call him Johnny Lips. VITO: Who is the greatest man you can think of? CLEMENZA: Go on, answer him when he talks to you. Tell him: Columbus, Marconi... Garibaldi. HYMAN: Arnold Rothstein. VITO: Then take that as your name: Hyman Rothstein. [Genco is out in the alley; he calls out with glee.] GENCO: Vitone! Look at this! [Vito moves out to the smiling Genco; Clemenza and the newly christened Hyman Rothstein follow a distance behind.] [EXT. THE ALLEY - DAY] [Genco stands beaming, as two workers raise up high, the freshly painted sign: "GENCO OLIVE OIL COMPANY."] GENCO: *enthusiastically* God bless America! We're in business! [The young men watch as the sign is hoisted into place. OUR VIEW goes from one to the other: Clemenza, Genco, Vito and Hyman Rothstein.] [DISSOLVE TO: INT. SENATE CAUCUS ROOM - MED. CLOSE VIEW - DAY] [Willy Cicci, Pentangeli's a**ociate and bodyguard takes a drink of water.] SENATOR *O.S.*: Mr. Cicci. From the year 1927 to the present time, you were an employee of the "Genco Olive Oil Company." CICCI: That's right. SENATOR *O.S.*: But in actuality, you were a member of the Corleone Crime organization. CICCI: The Corleone Family, Senator. We called it, "The Family." SENATOR *O.S.*: What position did you occupy? CICCI: At first, like everybody, I was a soldier. [VIEW ON SENATOR KANE] [A thin, angular Baptist with a Mid-Western accent.] SENATOR KANE: What is that exactly? CICCI: A bu*ton. You know, Senator. SENATOR KANE: No, I don't know, explain that exactly. CICCI: When the boss says push the bu*ton on a guy, I push the bu*ton, see, Senator? [The Senators treat Cicci with a surface courtesy, as if he were a curious kind of animal, not really human. Cicci reacts to this by being even more brutally forthright than he has to be, to show his contempt for what he considers a hypocrisy. The VIEW ALTERS from Senator Kane to the Committee's attorney, Mr. Questadt.] QUESTADT: You mean you k**ed people at the behest of your superiors? CICCI: That's right, counsellor. QUESTADT: And the head of your family was Michael Corleone. CICCI: Yeah, counsellor, Michael Corleone. SENATOR KANE: Did you ever get such an order directly from Michael Corleone? CICCI: No, Senator, I never talked to him. SENATOR SAVOY: *very autocratic, deep South, gentlemanly man* There was always a buffer, someone in between you who gave you orders. CICCI: Yeah, a buffer, the Family had a lot of buffers. [EXT. THE TROPICANA IN VEGAS - MED. VIEW - DAY] [A limousine pulls up at a private area near the side of the hotel. Michael exits the limousine followed by Hagen and Neri.] MICHAEL: Do you think they have somebody to back up Cicci? HAGEN: No. But if they do have somebody, you'll do three years for perjury if you give them so much as a wrong middle name. [Michael smiles to him, but it's a cold, deadly smile.] HAGEN: Michael, take the Fifth all the way, that way you can't get into trouble. [EXT. PRIVATE BALCONY OF CORLEONE APARTMENT AT TROPICANA - DAY] [A Corleone bodyguard waits outside on the balcony overlooking the pool area. Through the translucent draperies, we see a grouping of me.] [INT. CORLEONE APARTMENT AT THE TROPICANA - DAY] [Michael, Hagen, Neri and Rocco are seated in this luxury in the hotel. Michael sits in a comfortable chair in his apartment. Neri comes and brings him a drink without asking, but Michael refuses it.] MICHAEL: Al, get me a wet towel. Does Kay know I'm back? [Hagen nods.] MICHAEL: Did the boy get something from me for Christmas? HAGEN: I took care of it. MICHAEL: What was it, so I'll know. HAGEN: A little care he can ride in with an electric motor. [Neri comes around with a wet face towel, which Michael uses to cool his eyes. He puts the used towel down on the table.] MICHAEL: Fellas, can you wait outside a minute? [They know what he means and leave the apartment, going out to the balcony where we can see them but they cannot hear. Only Hagen remains.] MICHAEL: Where's my brother? HAGEN: Roth got out on a private boat. He's in a hospital in Miami. Had a stroke but he's recovered okay. Bussetta's dead. MICHAEL: I asked about Fredo? HAGEN: The new government arrested him, held him for a couple of days with a lot of the other casino people, including Roth's brother, Sam. The [American Emba**y arranged flights for citizens; I'm not sure, but I think he's somewhere in New York.]] MICHAEL: I want you to reach Fredo. I know he's scared, but have one of our people reach him. Assure him that there will be no reprisals. Tell him that I know Roth misled him. HAGEN: My information is that Fredo thought it was a kidnapping. Roth a**ured him nothing would happen to you. MICHAEL: *indicating Rocco and Neri on the balcony* They can come in now. HAGEN: Wait... there's something else. MICHAEL: Alright. [Hagen pauses; doesn't know how to begin.] MICHAEL: *impatiently* Go on, tell me. HAGEN: Kay had a miscarriage; she lost the baby. [After a moment:] MICHAEL: Was it a boy or a girl? HAGEN: Mike, at three and a half... MICHAEL: What is it, can't you give me straight answers anymore! HAGEN: It was a boy. MICHAEL: And Kay...she's all right? HAGEN: She took the Senate Investigation worse. MICHAEL: Does she blame it on me? The baby? HAGEN: I don't know. [EXT. TAHOE ESTATE - DAY] [The first snow of the New Year has fallen; the trees are bare, and there is hush all over this part of the Sierras. Michael is driven in his car, looking out at the familiar sight of the home he has been forced to be away from.] [VIEW ON MICHAEL] [Looking out from his window. The last time he had seen the estate it was warm, and the trees were full.] [MOVING VIEW] [Approaching the great stone gates; closed. The bodyguards are not readily visible, but they are there. The iron gates are opened, and one of the men makes a simple nod of respect, as the car pulls in.] [NEW VIEW] [Inside the estate, the private roads have been freshly plowed, and occasionally a worker will pause to watch the car as it pa**es. The Grandchildren are in school now, and so the estate is especially quiet. Although there are signs that children live here; a bicycle, a sled, a swing and gymnastic set, wet and with a rim of snow still on it.] [INT. MICHAEL'S HOUSE - VIEW FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE - DAY] [To the outside, where Michael walks slowly. He stops and looks at a little Italian red sportscar made for children.] [NEW VIEW] [The front door opens, and Michael enters his own home. It is very quiet, no one is at home to greet him. He can see the evidence of his family; things his wife and his children have been using, and left on a sofa or a table. He moves toward his and Kay's bedroom, where we can HEAR the SOUND of a sewing machine running. Quietly he opens the door.] [MICHAEL'S VIEW] [Into the bedroom. Kay is sitting by the window, lit by the cold afternoon light, at work with her sewing machine. She hasn't noticed that he's in the room yet, and goes on with her work.] [VIEW ON MICHAEL] [Stands there a moment, watching, not making a sound. And then without a word, he steps back, and closes the door, so that she doesn't see him.] [VIEW FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE] [Onto Michael, moving outside, walking through the snow, he moves to the house next to his own.] [INT. CONNIE'S HOUSE - DAY] [This is the house where Mama lives with Connie's children, Connie so rarely is there. He steps in; his mother is asleep in a chair in the living room. He moves to her, and bends low, whispers.] MICHAEL: Mom... Mom... [She opens her eyes, which are red and small with age.] MICHAEL *Sicilian*: It's Michael. How are you, Mom? MAMA *Sicilian*: I'm alright. Will you stay home for awhile? MICHAEL *Sicilian*: There are still things I have to do. MAMA *Sicilian*: Well, we can all have a nice dinner together tonight. How are your eyes? MICHAEL: Alright. They bother me once in awhile. *a pause as he thinks* Tell me, when Pop had troubles... did he ever think, even to himself, that he had gone the wrong way; that maybe by trying to be strong and trying to protect his family, that he could... that he could... lose it instead? MAMA *Sicilian*: You talk about the baby. She can have another baby. MICHAEL *Sicilian*: No, I meant lose his family. MAMA: *as best she ever understood it* Your family? How can you ever lose your family? MICHAEL: *almost to himself* But times are different... [FULL VIEW IN ROOM - MICHAEL AND HIS MOTHER] [Quietly we HEAR the music of a small band playing an Italian march. From the orchestration, we know it is from the past.]