Original subtitles

I AM NORA, MOTHERFUCKER!

I still don't understand why you're so willing to die. Because everyone wants

be king of the hill.

There's a race streaming on the dark web. Yes, warden. It's online in real

on Freenet, I2P, and Tor.

There's no way to trace the ISP and shut him down with a web -based attack.

If I was the NSA and had a couple of months, maybe.

These guys are a legitimate cyber militia.

The encryption is first rate. It's bouncing every ten seconds.

Then kill their power.

We don't supply their power. They're on their own jerry -rig grid.

Any word from the OTB site?

On -site and online wagering are up. They're writing a lot of betting slips.

The house is banking cash on the secondary racers and the parlays, and

raking in some big.

Frankenstein wins, there's a payout.

Death rate is illegal, bigger than ever.

Thanks for our resident crazy man, Frank.

Oh, fuck Frankenstein.

You're the one who resurrected death rates from the dead.

I just figured out how to decode the satellite signals and stream it on the

web. Frankenstein's been born again.

Thanks to us. Well, if he wins tonight, it'll be his seventh straight.

Oh, our contact on the outside says our margins are dropping because nobody's

taking the other side of the bet. We're losing a lot of money on Frankenstein.

We need to spice things up. The parlays are paying off, but... We need a

challenger.

What is on route T -minus five minutes?

Let's shut Frankenstein and Death Race down once and for all.

We've got some action from the outside.

You want a spice?

Say hello to Spock.

Let's trade some paint.

Suck!

I'd like a shot at getting my money back.

Why don't I come to your place later tonight?

Maybe we can shuffle another deck of cards.

Está bien.

Hey, hey, hey.

I've got a player who wants to play some heavy action.

On spot.

Versus Frankenstein.

Swat? Swat.

Where's he gonna pay his money?

Swat for a hundred thousand.

Even up.

It's my book.

I'll set the odds.

Three to one.

And if he gives you any pushback, tell him the Mexican Jew said go to hell and

take his mom.

I hope they got that last chip in the gun.

Now maybe the money, Frank.

It's time to play, it's here with me, lost to vengeance, and I'm the one

Tell me we've got cameras in there.

Yeah, we've got cameras everywhere.

Send me the best you've got, Walton.

I'll send them back to your skin.

You've got it in your corner.

You may be in charge out there, but this is my city. This is the sprawl.

This isn't going to play well in the Washington Post tomorrow.

I know, Mr. Valentine.

Well, then you know that I've got Congress at my ass about the sprawl and

morality.

Frankenstein is out of control.

His legion is growing.

The government is going to take back my prison unless we shut down Frankenstein

and chill him down now.

When I took over Weyland International, I was tasked with a very specific

directive.

Clean up the sprawl and put an end to Frankenstein. More importantly, death

race. Our contract's up in five years, and we've got a lot invested in that

human garbage dump.

So when I get pulled into a congressional oversight committee, what

to the 435 members of the House, huh?

Well, tell them that we're doing our best, but... But what? We can't control

bunch of sociopathic gearheads and Frankenstein's even more legendary?

Now that that place is illegal?

I can handle Frankenstein, sir.

Really? Because from where I sit, Frankenstein's making you look like a

He's gathering steam.

A mountain wood adds up to a small army. You can't shut him down from the

outside.

He's just a mask.

Anybody can wear the mask.

His disciples inside and out need to see him suffer a humiliating defeat.

He needs to die during death race and die bloody.

He loses death race, he loses his power. That's how you take back our prison.

Make it happen, or I will.

What I'm about to feed you is going to taste...

bitter. You have found yourselves in a no -win situation.

There are two options.

Tie or survive.

You will not be given clothes.

What you're wearing is what you'll wear.

You will not be given a place to sleep.

You will not be given jack shit except maybe a bullet in the brain. If you

are lucky.

Rest assured.

There are no virgins within these walls because life has fucked you all.

The sprawl is 88 ,000 acres of batshit about to

happen. The containments on warehouses, 420 ,000 of the

worst, of the worst offenders.

Best advice?

Learn how to run.

Learn how to fight.

Not I fucking the asshole.

Uncle Sam has decided to provide you with one roll of silver coins.

This will be your currency inside the walls.

That's the hot wash.

Now, get yourselves ready. We're approaching DZ Alpha Bravo.

Try Voldemort, Bob.

If you got what it takes, he'll get you in. Move!

Get off my bird now!

Well, ain't this a rainbow or fucking ugly?

You folks lost.

We're good.

You look lost.

No, we're good, thanks.

You're good?

Good.

Now give me your fucking silver.

Why would we do that?

It's a landing tax.

Why don't you just shoot us and take it?

Maybe I don't want to waste my bullets on a gutter bitch like you.

You're a real sweet talker, ain't you?

Thanks. I tried.

I don't think you have any bullets.

In fact, I think you're shooting blank.

Okay.

You folks want to play the hard way?

Up against the fucking truck!

It's this bad feeling I owe you, pretty boy.

You're the one that gave the cops a beating?

I don't want any trouble.

Oh, you don't?

Because if you tuned up the cops, you're going to have some.

I'm just looking for Baltimore Bob.

Jump in, cowboy.

I'll give you a ride.

Light it up!

Bitches on the pole slidin' Moc won't click whinin' The reason why your hoes

dick ridin' Pops poppin' panties on the model shoppers now We rockin', we

rollin', I'm talkin' like a

Is that one unarmed man took out you and your gang and boosted my landing tax?

I'm sorry, Frank. I'll do better next time. There's no next times in the

You know this.

You got sent here for killing cops, and you can't handle one con?

Like I said, I'm sorry, Frank. I'll do better next time. Just got lucky.

Every piece of silver you collect goes right back to the sprawl. When my

tax goes uncollected, the city suffers.

Like to suffer.

I don't like to suffer, Frank.

That's him.

That's the motherfucker.

Hey, Frank.

This guy's looking for Baltimore.

Of course he is. Connor Gibson?

Meet Jane.

It's good to meet you, Jane.

He's all yours, Chica.

I'm -a go dance on the pole.

So, where'd you come in from?

Long Beach.

What are you in it for?

Does it matter?

It does to me.

I'm here because I'm here just like everyone else.

I need this stuff. I need this stuff. I need this stuff. I need this

stuff.

Miles tried to jump me.

Yet you're the one who walked away.

I didn't say they were any good at it.

Let me whack him, Frank.

He's nothing but a couple drops of jizz frotted from a shit -filled crack in the

sidewalk.

Have we met before?

I don't think so. I just got here.

And if we had, I wouldn't know.

You're hiding behind a mask.

This is my city.

No one speaks to me like that.

Listen, you accused me of stealing and I didn't steal anything.

I defended myself.

It's not my fault your boys weren't up to the fight they picked.

Watch your back, convict.

You're definitely not from Long Beach.

You make it a habit to push above your weight, convict?

Where it is you're looking for me?

Baltimore, Bob?

Your balls must be made out of titanium.

I've never seen anyone talk to Frank like that.

You drive?

Yeah, I drive.

So what are you in here for, Bob?

Let's just say I help people transition.

First called me Dr. Kill.

I was an oncologist.

Yeah, I read about you. You euthanized over 400 dying people.

I had 432, and all of them were dying.

Some were living inconsequential lives, and as such, they were already dead.

What

the

hell are they doing?

Speeding time!

Disciples of Frank!

They hijack the food shipment and control the supply.

If you keep the populace hungry, they're easier to control.

Where do all the weapons and cars come from? Handmade, homemade. We lick the

bottom of the pot and refurbish whatever sticks to our tongues. And we got a

benefactor on the outside.

So what am I watching here?

It's where non -racers compete for a spot in Death Race.

And how do you get a spot?

You have to win a death match.

Let this death match begin!

Our first contestant is all the way from New York City, New York, to the killer.

Frank's main squeeze?

The standard Gordon Varadon pleasure model.

Carly J 'adore.

It's her stage name. She was charged with 17 counts of human trafficking, 8

counts prostitution, and another 5 counts of false imprisonment. She's the

cheerleader. Next porn star.

Exactly. Never did a day's work vertical.

On your mark.

Me too!

Don't pick a fight with Godzilla because you think you know how to throw a

punch.

Sleep on it.

You still want Death Brace tomorrow?

We'll talk.

Got a bottle.

Could use some company.

It's nice in here.

Thanks.

Go ahead and ask.

Everybody always asks.

It's kind of like the what's your star sign line in here.

I'm guilty.

I wasn't going to ask.

Yeah, but you would have found out anyway.

There's no secrets here in this brawl.

I married a really great guy who turned out to be not such a great

guy.

He beat me up a couple of times.

I forgave him.

The market crashed.

I lost his job.

He smacked me around a bit more.

I forgave him again.

And then one day... I didn't forgive him.

And I shot him nine times.

You know my one regret, though?

I didn't shoot the bastard ten.

So...

You still want to knock boots with me?

Never said I did.

Okay.

Well, wasn't really up for the taking anyway.

I just needed somebody to finish this bottle with, and you're...

some mysterious guy from Long Beach, right?

Get some sleep.

The couch is yours if you want it.

Welcome to the greenhouse.

This is Baltimore Bob's one -of -a -kind creation, inspired by the Chinese solar

greenhouse designs with CO2 enrichment.

pesticide -free and totally 100 % organic.

This is where we make the ethanol.

Bob is constantly tinkering with the recipe to deliver a high -octane brew.

It's got 20 times more kick than the watered -down petrol from outside the

He's like the OPEC of the sprawl.

And he's not in Frank's pocket?

They have an arrangement.

He provides fuel and Frankie reciprocates with protection and a few

We eat a little bit better than the rest.

You slept on it?

I did.

Let's say you have the skills.

Death race is for sociopathic killers.

You gotta have gravel in your guts.

You have to live for the smell of motor oil and high -octane fuel. You gotta

love the sound of rubber on asphalt and the taste of blood in your mouth.

And when you go to sleep at night, I mean that deep, real sleep.

The sound of bullets whizzing past your head should give you comfort.

So, Mr.

Strong and Silent, you made of that stuff?

If I'm not, then I die, right?

So you want a shot?

I'll get you a shot.

Tonight.

Death pit.

You ready to fight?

The carnage is about to begin.

So take your seats and get ready for the wildest ride yet.

Listen, my buddy, what you got for me?

There's a new guy.

This is his first death match, but Baltimore Bob says he can fight. Could

challenger. What's his story?

Connor Gibson.

In for felony whatever.

Two counts, six counts, who's counting? He's in here with the rest of us. I wish

I had a few more bullet points for you, but he's a question mark.

Why don't you send me the link, and I'll check him out.

Wait, before you go?

We're running short on spare parts, bulk ammo, Cat 5 cable.

Could you hook me up?

They'll be in on the next shipment.

Adios, amigo.

Okay. Let's see what this kid's made of.

Warden, check it out.

What do you have?

They're transmitting a telecast from the death pit.

It's the final death match.

Welcome to the final deathmatch.

This one's simple easy.

It's called Capture the Keys.

Here's the rules.

We're not here to see some MMA submission bullshit.

We're here to see bone -blasting, spine -shattering

fun.

It's about care.

It's about blood.

And bone.

We're not here to see some fucking pussy tap out.

The one person who gets that set of keys and sticks it in the ignition

of that car wins the last spot in Death Race.

Adios, suckers.

Peace out.

teach that.

Ladies and gentlemen, let's hear it for the butcher.

This mountain of a man has a belly full of killing under his belt, having

chopped up 67 body parts on the kill board.

Submission is not the same.

Good luck out there, Connor.

You got the keys.

Do you have the balls?

I bet this pretty boy doesn't last a minute.

I'll take that action, Rita.

Unbelievable.

Ah, no. Make me feel young again. Yeah.

Got something for you, Frankie Stein.

Got something for you, baby.

Bring the winner by for a talk.

With pleasure.

That's a bad motherfucker.

Want to pay now, or shall I run up a tab?

Hmm.

I thought you might want me.

I'm not into porn stars.

You can't pass this up.

Something to say about that?

If you think you can make a go of it against Frankenstein, you're wrong.

I can barely handle him and I'm three times the man you are.

Was Carly hospitable?

Something like that.

You've impressed me.

Twice. That's not easily done.

What are your first impressions of the Sprawl?

Anarchy. Any more than the outside world?

I think so.

Do you think you can handle being king of this mountain?

I'm just seeing a race.

Yes, but if you win, then what?

Are you ready to lead?

To make hard decisions?

The sprawl is self -sustaining, but it wasn't always this way.

When I arrived, it was a wasteland.

The Weyland Corporation promoted the sprawl as an alternative to regular

That was a lie.

Sprawl was created as an alternative to the death penalty.

They throw us cheese and expect us to act like rats.

They didn't expect us to evolve.

But we are.

And we will.

I keep this place from anarchy.

What does this have to do with the street race?

It's not just a street race.

It is who we are.

Who are you, Connor Gibson?

Nobody special.

All that could change if you win Death Race. If you defeat me.

Why would you be willing to risk losing all this power?

Death Race gives anyone the opportunity to become king.

Without that to inspire, we're nothing.

If you win, what would be your first act as king?

I haven't really thought about it.

I won because I knew exactly what I wanted to do when I was king of this

If you don't know what you want, you'll die on the track, and the sprawl will

cheer your death.

So the question is, what do you want?

Come on, baby, get in.

That was insane tonight.

The answer's no, Betsy.

You don't want to ride shotgun in death race.

Yes, I do.

It's a death sentence.

Frank killed people I care about.

I want to be part of putting them down.

I think about it.

I thought we could have a drink.

So who's Mary?

Is she your favorite groupie or are you just really into Christmas?

It's my sister Meredith.

She died when I was in the service.

Never got to say goodbye.

Can't change it, so I, uh...

Seen a lot of bad stuff.

Done a lot of bad things.

Mary was good.

Better than me, that's for sure.

I was, uh... I was born in Little Rock.

Son of a preacher, man.

Hardly.

My old man was a grease monkey in a pair of coveralls.

His idea of a good time was drinking Dixie beer on the porch and counting the

fireflies.

Spent most of my young life in Sweetwater, Texas on a salvage yard.

Mary passed away in Long Beach.

That's how I ended up there.

So the good news is the V8 standard transmission, and it runs. But the bad

is it needs tires, brakes, a total engine overhaul, a fuel cell, armor,

Man, don't bore me with a list.

Bottom line, it needs everything.

What the hell is this thing?

Your tombstone.

Bulletproof titanium plate.

Protects your fuel cell.

You got the navigator yet?

Hell yeah, he does.

I'm the motherfucker riding shotguns.

The hell you looking at?

I got antifreeze in my veins.

Let's build this shit.

Nothing I could do cause your fate is sealed, that's the plan This is just a

game that we play and I'm wasteland

The speedometer has been calibrated at 200 miles per hour.

And that's all she's got?

I don't know.

This death race is one lap, one day.

The race begins and ends at the airfield.

A lot of speed here.

A few obstacles.

The second leg is on Interstate 94.

Most of the lesser cars will be taken out on this long stretch here.

Watch out for the highway gangs.

This is their turf.

And then you hit the projects.

All kind of bad boys in there.

When you come out of there alive, you end up in the meatpacking district.

Home free.

Driving is more important than killing.

Shoot only when you must.

Think slow, drive fast.

Rule number one.

Keep your ass alive.

That was incredible.

Don't fucking touch me.

Hi. So you like cars?

Yeah.

I like American muscle.

I had a vet.

Rebuilt it myself.

1970 LT1.

Stingray. Used to love to open her up on the highway to Vegas.

Paddle to the floor.

370 horses running hard.

Polly and Rochester quadrajet carb getting the mixture just right.

Momentum shift.

Stay off the brakes, get her on her toes.

Man, could she fly.

I bet you talk like this to all your girls.

I got nothing outside these walls.

Mary was my last connection to anything real.

So when she died, I made a bad decision.

Wound up here, not caring about anything.

But now...

Bye.

Sergeant Gibson.

No one's called me that in a long time.

Connor Gibson is not the man we are coming to know.

He is a warrior.

A very decorated and specialized warrior.

Known in the shadow world of government killers for his wet work with the CIA.

Targeted killing is his forte. And I am his mark.

He's here at the behest of Weyland International.

Sent here by the fascists from the outside because they think I gained too

power. They fitted him with a strap.

And he hangs around their waist like a hatchet.

There's a helicopter ride to freedom waiting for him at the finish line.

Tell me, Sergeant.

Am I wrong?

No! No!

No! No!

No! No!

No!

Sergeant Gibson will be allowed to race.

Fuck that, Frank!

What if he wins?

Then he wins!

And that is what's meant to be.

Did you think I wouldn't find out?

So tell me, who's hiding behind the mask now?

Me or you?

See you on the starting line

Is

it true

Goodbye, Long Beach.

Get your goddamn hands off me.

I'm still one of your pit crew.

I don't care if they have sent you to kill them or not. He's a liar, Bob.

A lie who's working for the man. Hey, get over it.

He's good for business.

We got a race to get ready for.

Get your head right, convict.

Your life depends on it.

Gotta love race day!

Just like clockwork, Mr. Valentine.

This is it, last chance.

Frankenstein dies or your career dies.

Frankenstein will be in a body bag by day's end. I hope so, for your sake.

boys and girls that run this race.

God, did you call a cop? Did I have to fuck you? Did I have to call a cop?

Featuring three -time racer Johnny Law and his monster police cruiser.

He's here to protect and serve.

Morning, motherfucker.

Two -time racer The Fireman and his Dodge Ram Hemi. His axe is coming

your door.

Come show mama some love.

Queen Bishop the Sprawl, Matilda the Hunts. Sporting her school bus yellow

Econoline van.

And first -timer Gypsy Rose and her badass Mini Cooper ass.

With a face only a mother could love, here's Pierce's face at his VW Bug.

Nazi bastard and his love -thirsty truck from hell.

Dirk and his Formula One war cycle, counting on speed to keep him alive.

Veteran racer Deadman and his killer Hurst. He didn't come here to rest in

peace.

Behind the wheel of her Toyota Celica, virgin racer Cleopatra.

And last, but definitely least, our resident rat fox, Sergeant Gibson, and

big block Camaro.

He's got a bullseye on his back.

You ready for our play date?

We got the whole world coming after you, my man. You know that, right?

Take a walk, Bexie. I got this.

You should.

Who am I to judge?

I ain't here to throw shade on you.

I'm sure you got reason.

So, if it's all the same,

I'll ride with you.

The man who just won't die, Frankenstein.

Sometimes I get the feeling Frank is playing chess, and the rest of us are

playing checkers.

Let her go, Frank.

She's got nothing to do with any of this.

No.

But she's a good insurance policy.

Let's see how cold -blooded you are.

Totally wrong.

Take one.

The airfield.

Take this.

I can stop your sweet little ass in that chair, girl.

I got this party started.

Whoa!

One

down,

time to go.

It's going to be the biggest payday ever.

Hey, Bexie, do me a favor and get those motherfuckers off my ass.

Let's blow some shit up.

Find me someone that'll give me some action on Connor Gibson.

And tell him I'm all in.

Nine drivers remain as we enter the Deadlands.

Frankenstein, Connor Gibson, and Gypsy Rose lead the pack.

Buckle up, bitches. The asphalt is running red.

And we're just getting warmed up. Day two.

The Deadlands.

I'm going down, you son of my motherfucker!

Take him out!

Fucking fireman!

Let's see if your boyfriend's ready to bury you.

Don't do it.

Let her go, Connor. That skinny big chain never coming back.

I said don't do it.

Just what I thought.

Fuckin' last word, though.

Deathrace is left.

Who the hell brings the VW Black 2 Deathrace?

You gotta hand it to these degenerates. They put on a hell of a show.

Our goons can't hold out much longer.

Somebody call 911!

Woo -hoo!

Lose it, psycho.

You got an idea.

as they head into the project.

Frankenstein is still in the lead, with Gypsy Rose a close second, and Connor

Gibson didn't everyone's first death last.

Day three.

Project.

That's the man I was gunning for.

How you doing, Wonderbrain?

Thick, thick schwarzer.

Oh, no, he didn't.

Did he just say what I think he said?

Yeah, but in German.

You and your bitch brought your skinhead shit.

To the wrong part of town.

Get ready to play!

You got to reroute him over the bridge.

It's too far out to win this race.

I'm not telling him. Get him online.

Talk to me, Bob. We need to reroute you over the bridge.

The bridge is out.

Why the fuck are you rerouting me there?

You're too far behind.

You have to jump the gap.

What are we talking about, like 50 feet?

More like 250 feet.

That's your only chance.

If you want to win. I have to win.

No one's going to shed a tear for Nasty Baxter and his nasty little frow line.

I mean, hoo -hoo.

It's not a real loss to the planet Earth.

Four drivers remain.

Frankenstein and Gypsy Rose have opened up a big lead on Johnny Law and Connor

Getson.

So how do we do this, Bob?

You've got to hit the gap at 220 miles an hour. There's a ramp there.

Not the first time this has been tried. No, we're only calibrated to 200 miles

an hour. Don't worry, we should get you up to 220.

Anyone ever made this jump before?

On paper, the map worked.

I ain't going to lie to you, it's going to be hard work. If you get your angle

right, you...

Might live. Yeah, fuck you very much.

That rat fucked back.

Fuck yeah, Smith!

this done already.

Take your decks left. The bridge is five miles out. That's your only chance.

You like this play, man?

It's your only play.

I'll see you on the other side.

Get out, Becker.

We're on the road.

Not fucking happening.

The minute I got in this car with you, I was all in.

Gravity.

Max out at 209.

Dropping the tombstone.

I told you the math worked.

I could set them off right now.

I can't believe what I just saw.

Connor Gibson jumped the bridge, putting him right back in the sink of it.

Motherfucker got game. Come on, Jim.

Don't let me down.

We've got to win this race.

Here comes your boyfriend.

Next, pass me through to Frank.

Hey, Frankie.

Hey, Connor.

Glad you showed up for your date with Destiny.

I knew they'd come down to us.

That wouldn't happen any other way.

We can start shooting at each other or we can drive.

Wouldn't prefer.

Let's drive.

Take him out already!

What's going on?

The school cell's empty.

Fuel line's ruptured.

Don't do it.

Just turn around and win your race.

This is death race.

He has to die.

He knows it.

He chose it.

That's our cue. Send in the chopper. It's already on route.

Get the fuck out of here.

I got it.

I got it.

Jam the broadcast to the dark web.

This is good stuff. Just do it. Cut it for five minutes.

This is what the Lord wants.

He wants Frank's death on display.

We give it to him.

We lose.

Fuck him.

Go.

They sent two of us?

Insurance.

Pretty well, huh?

And thanks for the assist.

Everybody was so focused on you, I flew under the radar.

Let's get the fuck out of this shithole.

Frankenstein's dead.

Job well done.

Oh, and by the way, we're all square now.

20 seconds and I'm gone.

Listen up.

Put on the mask.

Become Frankenstein.

The Sprawl will never follow Connor Gibson.

They follow Frankenstein.

Without him.

Let's finish this race, Long Beach.

Put Death Race back online.

Goldberg's gonna be pissed.

He put heavy accent on Connor.

Easy come, easy go.

Fuck you, Valentine.

Yeah!

Feeling the way that I'm feeling myself.

Everyone else.

Gotta remember that nobody's better than anyone else. Here.

You need some time to think it over.

Look what they do to you. Look what they do to me.

You must be joking if you think that either one is free.

Here.

I'm ready for war, but I'm ready for more.

I know that nobody's ever been this ready before.

Do you need something to take it over?

Figure it out or figure it out.

I figured it out.

The bigger the river, the bigger the drought.