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Stone, Oliver. Scarface
Scarface Script
ANONYMOUS, MIAMI 1981
1 A PROLOGUE 1
crawls up the screen -- with Narrator.
NARRATOR
In May 1900, Fidel Castro -- in an
effort to normalize relations with
the Carter Administration -- opened
the harbor at Mariel, Cuba with the
apparent intention of letting some
of his people join their relatives
in the United States. Within seventy-
two hours, 3,000 U.S. boats were headed
for Cuba. In the next few weeks, it
became evident that Castro was forcing
the boat owners to carry back with
them not only their relatives but the
dregs of his jail population. 3y the
time the port was closed 125,000
’Marielitos’ had landed in Florida.
An estimated 25,000 had criminal
records. This is the story of that
minority -- those they call ’Los
Bandidos.’
The prologue is shredded diagonally by the blade of a
stilleto and in the empty black void we:
CUT TO
Opening Montage - Documentary Footage:
2 THE DISEMBARKATION 2
from the harbor in Mariel, Cuba. Vessels of every nature,
waving masses, demonstrations....
;
I
THE CROSSING 3
I
. 3
i7 Sun and storm.
,
1
4 THE LANDING - KEY WEST 4
The flag of the United States. Choppers swooping over the
ragged coastline of the Keys. Emerald waters dotted with
fishing trawlers and pleasure craft, an "America the
Beautiful" -type Immigration theme surging over ’this.
#02154 2
Rev. 11/22/82
5 THE PROCESSING 5
Long lines. Immigration and Nationalization Officials,
customs, Public Health, FBI, Church and Relief Organizations.
Babies bawling, arguments over paperwork, refugees being
interviewed by TV news, people crying, people eating,
families huddled on floors...chaos.
The music theme continuing in stately calm
as we:
CUT TO
6 INT. OFFICE - PROCESSING HALL - AFTERNOON - A FULL 6
and CLOSEUP OF TONY MONTANA ant
7 7
the scar-faced one, in the young angry prime of his life.
We dwell first on the scar which he likes to scratch now and
then. We move to the eyes, pure in their fury. Finally we
encompass the face -- the face of a man about to explode --
muscle, tissue, brain -- a man willing to live or die and
on the increment of a moment, inflict or receive either one.
He is clothed in rags crossed with holes, his shoes broken
cardboard, his hair unkempt, his complexion sallow from
prison.
Over this:
VOICE #1 (0.8.)
Okay so what do you call yourself?
VOICE #2 (0.6.)
Corn0 se llama?
MONTANA
(X)
Tony Montana...you?
VOICE #1
Where’d you learn to speak the English,
Tony?
MONTANA
(Xl
Sailor.
My old man -- he was American.
I always know, y’know, one day I
Bum.
I see all the
gonna come to America.
movies....
VOICE #l
So where’s your old man now?
MONTANA
He’s dead. He died. Somewhere....
VOICE #1
Mother?
TONY
She’s dead too.
CONTINUED .
#02154 3
Rev. 11/22/82
6 CONTINUED 6
and
ant
7 7
VOICE #2
What kind of work you do in Cuba,
Tony?
TONY
This. That. The Army. Some con-
struction work....
VOICE #2
Unhunh. Got any family in the States,
Tony? Cousins, brother-in-law?
TONY
(a beat)
Nobody. Everybody’s dead.
NO.
MAN #I
Y’ever been in jail, Tony?
TONY
Me jail? No way.
We now reveal three men in civilian clothing in the dark
afternoon light of the little room. Actually it’s a
plywood office somewhere in the processing hall and we hear
the din from the hall over the question and answer. Two of
the men sit around a desk, the Third Man stands in a corner,
staring at Tony, the most authoritative-looking of the
three.
MAN #l
(checking
off a list)
You been in a mental hospital, Tony?
TONY
(grinning)
Yeah, in the boat coming over.
MAN #1
How ’bout homosexuality, Tony? You.
like men, y’like to dress up like a
woman?
TONY
(to Man #2)
Never tried it. What the (X)
fuck’s wrong
with this guy, what’s he think I am?
MAN #2
Just answer the questions, Tony.
The voices of the men remain cool and collected throughout.
CONTINUED
#02154 4
(Xl Rev. 11/22/82
6 CONTINUED - 2 6
and
ant
7
7
TONY
(to Man #l)
Fuck no.
MAN #1
Arrested? Vagrancy? Marijuana?
TONY
. Never. Nothing.
NO ..NO.
i
His eye movements are rapid (over shoulders, sides, doors)
and he does a lot of touching -- objects -- lightly with the
tips of the fingers. Man #3 is stepping forward out of the
shadows.
MAN #3
So where’d you get the beauty scar?
TONY ?’
This?..
(scratching the
scar, shrugs)
I was a kid. You should see the
other kid.
(a grim chuckle)
MAN #3
And this?
He holds up Tony’s hand and indicates the tattoo between the
thumb and second finger -- a heart with the word "Madre"
scaled through it.
TONY
Oh that was for my sweetheart.
MAN #3
Sweetheart?
(to the
other men)
We been seeing more and more of these.
It’s some kinda code these guys used
in the can. Pitchfork means an assassin
or something. This one’s new...You
want to tell us, Montana or you want to
take a little trip to the detention
center?
TONY
Hey, so I was in the can once for
buying dollars. Big deal.
CONTnmED
#02154 5
Rev. 11/22/82
6 CONTINUED - 3
-- 6
and am
7 7
MAN.#3
That’s pretty funny, Tony.
TONY
Some Canadian tourist....
MAN #3
What’d you mug him first? Get him
outta here!
(starts to
walk out)
TONY
so I fuck Castro, what’s it to
Hey,
you? You a Communist or something?
How would you like it they tell you
all the time what to think, what to
do, you wanna be like a sheep, like
everybody else. Baa baa? Puta! You
want a stoolie on every block? You
wanna work eight hours a day and you
never own nothing? I ate octopus three
times a day, fucking octopus is coming
out my ears, fuckin’ Russian shoes are
eating through my feet. Whaddaya want?
You want me to stay there? Hey, I’m
no little whore, I’m no stinking thief!
I’m Tony Montana and I’m a political
prisoner here from Cuba and I want my
fucking ’Human Rights’ just like
President Jimmy Carter says, okay?...
Silence. 7-
There’s a certain eloquence to the man`s plea but
it falls on disbelieving ears. One of them chuckles.
MAN #l
Carter should see this human right.
He’s good. He’s very good. What do ix:
you say Harry?
MAN #3
(walking out)
I.. ’Freedomtown.’ Let them take a
look at him. A long look.
CONTINUED
#02154 6
Rev. 12/16/82
6 -4
CONTINUED 6
P-
and ant
7 7
TONY
Hey, that’s okay, too, Harry. No
hard feelings.
Man #3 at the door stops, looks back.
TONY
Send me here, send me there. This.
That. Nothing you can do to me
Harry, Castro didn’t do -- nothing....
That taunting smile on Tony’s lips as, to the music of the
immigration theme, we:
DISSOLVE TO
7-A WT. FEDERAL BUS - HOUR LATER 7-P
The bus is packed with the harder-looking refugee-types.
The noise
The windows are caged and we see INS guards.
level is high, like a sack of monkeys.
Manny (Manolo) Ribera’s got his feet up on an empty seat. (X)
He’s big, strong, handsome, with dashing darkly feminine
eyes -- younger than Tony, and dapper in his cheap clothing.
He’s eating a Baby Ruth candy bar.
Seat’s taken.
TONY
So I’ll sit in your lap.
Tony pushes his feet off, sits. He takes the Baby Ruth out
of Manny’s hand, peels out the bar of chocolate, then
returns the empty wrapper to Manny,
TONY
So what’d you tell them?
I told them what you told me to tell
them. I told them I was in sani-
tation in Cuba.
.TONY
I told
I didn’t tell you sanitation.
you to tell them you was in a sani-
tarium, not sanitation.
The bus pulling out now.
CONTINUED
#02154 6-A
Rev. 12/g/82
(Xl
7-A CONTINUED 7-A
Is that what you told me?..You didn’t
tell me that.
TONY
You know if you hadn’t opened your
mouth, they woulda thought you were
a horse. I told you to tell them you
was cured.
had TB and
Fuck you Tony....
TONY
You did nothing right. I shoulda left
you in Cuba.
7-B EXT. MIAMI FROM BUS - ESTABLISHING SHOT 7-B
of Miami as, to the music of the Immigration theme, we:
DISSOLVE TO
8 INT. TONY’S TENT - FREEDOMTOWN - NIGHT (SIX MONTHS LATER) 8
A movie projector...
We’re watching
. . . the face of Bogart -- unshaven, paranoid.
a badly damaged 16 mm print of The Treasure of the Sierra -
Madre. It’s near the end of the film and he’s alone, talking
to himself just before the bandits get him....
The rag-tag audience is noisily yammering back at the screen,
the camera moving past Manny Ray, chewing gum, hair slicked,
eyes in cat-like repose...to Tony, enrapt, eyes like an
eleven year old, mouth hanging open.
BOGART
What a thing.
Conscience. Conscience.
Xf you believe you’ve got a conscience,
’it`ll pester you to death. But if you
don’t believe you’ve got one, what can
it do to you? Makes me sick so much
talking and fussing about nonsense.
Time to go to sleep.
(closes his eyes
but not for long)
CUT TO
6-B
#02154
Rev. 12/9/82
9 INT. TENT - LATER THATNIGHT 9
Tony is moving down 23rd Street, the walk proud and jungle
in the rock of the hips and the cast of the shoulders --
now accompanied by his handsome compadre, Manny
TONY
That Bogart, Chico, hunh?
CONTINUED
#00766 7
9
__ CONTINUED 9
Fucking crazy, hunh!
TONY
That gold dust blowing in the wind.
Y’see Manny, he’s always looking
over his shoulder. Hunh? Like me....
He hunches, darting exaggerated looks over his shoulder,
imitating Bogart. Manny laughs. In his black shirt with
zig-zag dots and colors and the baggy pants and sunglasses,
Tony’s starting to look American. He’s even got himself a
pop button pinned to his shirt that says "Fuck Off and Die."
And hi6 English rolls faster off his tongue, his confidence
more pronounced.
TONY
I . . don’t trust nobody.
Yeah all that gold, hunh -- I guess
you get 60 crazy you never trust no-
body no more.
TONY
Never happen to me, Chico. That’s one
thing I never gonna be. I never gonna
be crazy like that.
Yeah, how do you know....
TONY
I know.
I don’t know. Sometime6 you crazy,
too, Tony.
TONY
Assholes, I go crazy. You Manny, I
never go crazy with you. You’re
like my brother, I love you!
Yeah, sure.
TONY
c’mon.
Hey,
playfully punches Manny and they walk on into the
Tony
humid night, intersecting a young punk, Chi-Chi.
CONTINUED
#00766 8
s
9 CONTINUED - 2 9
CHI-CHI
(to Manny;
Spanish)
Hey Manny.
Oye Chi-Chi, what’s going down.
CHI-CHf
Usual shit. Want some peanuts?
Pago’s carrying tonight.
I don’t know, I get all fucked up on
it....
CHI-CHI
Want some new snatch? A pussycat
name of Yolanda just rolled onto the
Boulevard ---
Oh yeah, what she look like?
CHI-CHI
She look like you ’cept she got a
snatch.
A real snatch?
CHI-CHI
You’re not kidding. It talks.
As they chatter, Tony moves on with a movement of the head
for Manny. "Later."
He’s in the middle of the "Boulevard" where a bustling black
market in toiletries, clothing, cigarettes, and transves-
tites is conducted nightly in the harsh glare of barrack
neon.
He ambles past a bunch of young guys throwing a Frisbee,
past a "Viva Carter!" proclamation in graffiti....
TRANSVESTITE
(passing)
What about you sugar -- you wanna
party?
TONY
(passing her)
Yeah with whose cock, honey?
CUT TO
#02154 9
2nd Rev. 11/22/82
(X)
10 EXT. FREEDOMTOWN GROUNDS - NIGHT
,-- 10
Tony, five minutes later, in a phone booth, in the middle of
._ a bank of them, dozens of Marielietos pressing to get in,
trying still to contact somebody -- anybody -- on the outside.
Tony is dialing, his eyes shifting down to the telephone
number written in pencil on the back of a snapshot- As he
finishes the number, he flips the snapshot over and we see
a young girl, about thirteen years old, dark, tiny, fiery,
standing together with a dog and Tony, early twenties, in
shadow, the fringes of the photo heavily tattered with
handling. Tony stares at it, his mind drifting as the phone
rings in a distant place. A brief moment of repose we have
not yet seen in Tony.
Someone picks up the phone. An older woman’s Voice. His
expression alters to uncertainty.
VOICE
Yes? ..Hello?..Who is this?
Tony changes his mind, hangs up. Pause. The faces of those
in line peer in, the next party raps on the door, but Tony
ignores it, slips the snapshot back into the wallet in his
pants, then at his own pace, exits the phone booth.
He walks a few beats, his eyes pensive. Then recognizes
somebody in another phone booth and goes over.
Angel Frenandez has got the face of one, as he argues on
the phone, then hangs up, a desolate look on his face, a
worn phone book in his hand.
TONY
Angel, how ya doin’?
ANGEL
You know how many goddamn Fernandezes
are living in fucking Union City? And
I gotta call every fucking one of ’em
to find my brother!
TONY
passing)
(in
Don’t waste your dime, Chico. You
know your brother hates you.
ANGEL
Go fuck yourself, Tony.
Manny catches up to Tony.
CONTINUED
#02154 10
2nd Rev. 11/22/82
(Xl
10 c0NT1NUED 10
TONY
Whatcha hanging around with that
hustler for?
Hey Chi-Chi’s okay, he hears things,
TONY
What’s he hear I don’t hear.
comes
Angel over, listens.
He hears we got problems. Im-
migration is having these hearings,
y ’ know? And they’re saying nine
out of ten of us is gonna get
back!
shipped
TONY
Oh yeah?
Yeah. And a lotta shit just went
down at Indiantown Gap. In
Pennsylvania. Riots, fires, broken
heads.. -things are gonna pop here.
TONY
Shit, I coulda told you that.
Yeah, so what do you think the
immigration’s gonna do when we
riot? You think they’re gonna let
us out? They’re gonna throw away
the key, that’s what.
ANGEL
Oh shit!
What’s I say. This is
gonna end bad, muchachos....
TONY
Hey, I tell youguys this isn’t Cuba
here, this is the United States.
They got nothing but lawyers here.
We’re on the television. We’re in
the newspapers. Whatta they gonna
do -- ship us back to Cuba? Castro
-- he don’t want us. Nobody no
place wants us so whatta they gonna
do -- put us in a gas chamber so all
the people can see? They’re stuck
with us, Chico -- they gotta let us
go!
CONTINUED
#02154 11 and 11-A
2nd Rev. 11/22/82
10 c0NT1NuED -2 10
(Xl
Yeah, well, what if we gotta sit here
another six months, hunh?
TONY
You worry too much, mi hermano. Like
the man says, ’when you got ’em by
the balls, their hearts and minds gonna
follow’ --hunh?
Tony winks and walks off.
The radio is playing hard rock, something like Blondie or
Benatar from the stoop of a nearby barrack. Tony loves the
sound and swings into it, snapping his fingers and rolling
his hips like Presley. He back-peddles, smiling at Manny
and Angel.
TONY
(in awful
imitation)
’Oh yeah America! Love-to love you
baby, oh yeah!’
CUTTO
#00766 12
EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DAY - TWO WEEKS LATER
11
Camera on Tony shuffling and feinting a soccer ball in al
impromtu game; he’s covered with sweat, tires a fancy mo\
around a younger kid who not only steals the ball away fl
him but manages to lay him flat on his face.
TONY
(lying there)
Aw fuck....
The game, leaving him behind, shifts downfield.
Qye ! Tony! C’mon!
Mamy, just arrived at the edge of the field, waves him o
Tony, getting up, brushing himself off, walks off the fie
towards him.
ANGEL
(at a distance)
Hey Tony where ya going?
TONY
I got better-things to do.
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