Original subtitles

Here are the keys, ese. Take it easy.

Yes, sir.

Hey, take it easy!

♪ Put on a zoot suit

♪ Makes you feel real root

♪ Look like a diamond

♪ Sparkling, shining

♪ Ready for dancing

♪ Ready for the boogie tonight

♪ All the hepcats up in Harlem wear that drape shape

♪ Como los pachucones down in.

♪ Where huisas in their pompadours look real keen

♪ On the dance floor of the ballrooms donde bailan swing

♪ You better get hip tonight

♪ And put on a zoot suit

Hey, baby doll.

Hey, pretty. What's shaking?

Hey, man, you call that dancing?

Downey!Rifa!

It's not your night.

Rafas!

♪ Wear that carlango

♪ Dance with your huisa

♪ Dance to the boogie tonight

♪ 'Cause the zoot suit is the craze in California

♪ They're wearing that tacuche en El Paso

♪ You better get hip tonight

♪ And put on a zoot suit ♪

Ladies and gentlemen,

the mono you're about to see is a construct of fact and fantasy.

But relax, weigh the facts,

and enjoy the pretence.

Our pachuco realities will only make sense if you grasp their stylization.

It was the secret fantasy of every vato living in or out of the pachucada

to put on the zoot suit and play the myth.

Ese.

Extra! Extra!

Ese!

What the hell's going on, ese?

The city's cracking down on pachucos, carnal.

Don't you read the newspapers?

"Death Awakens Sleepy Lagoon."

Extra!

The cops ain't got nothing on me, and you know it.

You're Henry Reyna, carnal.

Hank Reyna.

The zoot-suiter.

The bitter young pachuco gang leader from 38th Street.

That's what they got on you, ese.

They can't do this to me, ese. They can't lock me up!

Haven't I taught you to survive?

It's all a marijuana dream, loco.

And I was supposed to report to the Navy tomorrow.

Muy Popeye the Sailor Man, uh?

You just couldn't stand to see me go, could you?

They were gonna cut off your D.A., carnal.

Give you those tight puto pants, make your ass look like an apricot.

So what business is it of yours? It's my ass.

Muy patriotic.

The Japs have sewed up the Pacific. Rommel's kicking ass in Egypt.

But the mayor of L.A. has declared an all-out war on Chicanos.

On you. Te curas?

Look, ese, I don't wanna hear that.

And as soon as Uncle Sam finds out you're in jail again, pues, ya estuvo.

"Unfit for military duty because of your record."

Forget the war overseas, carnal.

Your war is on the home front.

City of the Angels. Monday, August 2, 1942.

Press release. Los Angeles Police Department.

A huge show up of nearly 300 boys and girls

rounded up last night by police and sheriff's deputies,

will be held tonight, 8:00, Central Jail, First and Hill Street.

Victims of assaults, rape, robbery, purse snatching and similar crimes

are asked to be present for the identification of suspects.

I don't believe you really want to be in the Navy, Hank.

Pachuco shit's hitting the wartime fan. You go around dressed like a target.

I was born a target. Orale.

Right here in L.A. Simon.

So what's the phony charges this time?

Oh, you jackass... Can it, Smitty.

Don't tell them shit, ese.

We know about the gang fight Saturday night out at the Sleepy Lagoon.

I don't know what you're talking about.

You don't know what I'm talking about?

What's this from? What's that from? Playing Parcheesi?

We've got witnesses, Hank.

You and your pachucos drove into that Williams Ranch like Pancho Villa,

and you left a corpse behind, a kid named Joe Sanchez.

I know 50 guys by that name.

How about Henry Reyna? They a dime a dozen, too?

Nel, ese. There's only one. This one.

Then you must be the one we want.

Anchors aweigh, ese. Goodbye, Navy.

Start talking, Hank.

The lieutenant's over there, smart ass.

Screw you, flatfoot.

Why, you...

Hang tough, ese.

You don't deserve it, but you're gonna get it anyway.

Ah, forget it. He's out cold.

Get up and escape, Henry.

Leave reality behind.

Escape through the barrio streets of your mind.

Through a neighborhood of memories,

all chuckhole-lined.

And the love and the pain,

as fine as wine.

It's a lifetime ago, last Saturday night,

before the Sleepy Lagoon and the big, bad fight.

Ah?

I'm home.

Ah, just in time. Supper's ready.

Ah.

Where are the boys? Inside.

- Henry. - Yeah, ama.

Come and eat.

Ay. I thought you weren't gonna wear that thing anymore.

Oh, ama, just this one last time. It's my farewell dance.

Hmm. I don't know.

I don't know what you seen estas cochinadas de suit zoots.

Drapes, ama. We call them drapes.

Ah, si. Drapes, huh? Zoot suit, esta.

Muy funny, verdad? What are the police calling them, uh?

They're arresting boys right off the streets.

Chale! Only the worst-dressed.

What?

Dolores!

I don't know. I have a terrible feeling

that something bad is going to happen.

Say, carnal... Hmm.

It's all right, ese. We can handle it.

It's just a good taco, ama.

Oye, oye! What are you doing with my coat?

Mytacuche, apa. Chicano-style.

Chicano?

Hijo, don't go out like that, eh?

Por favor.

You look like an idiot, pendejo!

Ay, Enrique. Rudy, sit down.

"Chicano." Haven't I told you not to use that word?

It means you're trash.

You're Mexicanos. Mexicanos!

You about ready to go, Rudy? Where's the carnala?

Putting up her pompadour, like always.

Come on, sis. Step on it. We still got to pick up Della!

I'm coming.

Della? My compadre's daughter?

What happened to what's-her-name?

Mmm, pues, which one?

Ooh, you mean la Bertha.

That's the one, the one with the tattoo.

Ay, senor.

Henry, sit down, mi hijo.

Oh, I'm not very hungry, jefita.

Oh, look. Here's my share for this week's refine.

Ay, no, hijo. No, go ahead.

I got my last paycheck at the shoe repair today.

I still can't believe you're going off to war.

I almost wish you were going back to jail.

The muchacho is finally doing something right.

Eh... I should know.

Chihuahua! When I was in the Mexican Revolution...

Ay, no empieces con tu diablo de revolution because we'll be here all night.

What are you laughing at, mensito? You worry about getting yourself a job.

You're still eating here for free.

All right, then. Keep your pinche beans. Rodolfo!

You see? You see how he is? How long before he ends up in jail, too?

Tell Lupe we'll be waiting outside, ama. Henry.

Come here, mi hijo.

Vieja, where's my tequila?

Por que? What are you gonna do?

The bottle, mujer! And two glasses.

Just like the saying goes, "From such a stick, such a splinter."

So, you're taking out my compadre's daughter, eh?

She's very pretty.

And very young, too.

Innocent. Tu sabes?

Mira, apa. I'm not gonna do anything.

I know I can trust you.

I'm glad you're leaving all this pachucomierda behind you.

And I'm proud you're in the Navy.

Just do me one favor, eh?

You know that switchblade in your pocket?

Yeah, apa.

Rip apart that goddamn silly suit.

Why bother to wear anything?

You look like a puta... Pachuca.

Where's the skirt? Here.

Ah, jijo! Where's the rest of it?

Ay, apa!

It's the latest American style, like the guys' drapes. Huh, Hank?

What's that?

It means, "I'll see you later," jefe.

You got a match?

August 8, 1942.

Orale! Here comes Hank.

Psst. Hey.

How about it, fellows? What's the real scoop on the story?

Sex? Violence?

- Marijuana? - Yeah.

Sex. Now go get screwed.

Kid, this is no time to be antisocial. There's a war on.

What's a good-looking American boy like you doing with these beaners?

Dodging the draft?

They're gonna kill us all the same.

Look, I can't believe it, Hank.

Are they really going to pin us with a murder rap?

I got a wife and kid, ese.

"Zoot-Suited Goons of Sleepy Lagoon."

Hey, that ain't bad, ese.

Listen to this pip-squeak.

About the biggest heist he ever pulled was his Tootsie Roll.

Here's your Tootsie Roll, ese.

Hey, knock it off!

Pachuco army is falling apart, ese. You better do something.

I don't need your advice.

The last time I listened to you, the bulls gave me the saps.

What did you expect, a parking ticket?

Mira, ese. The D.A.'s indicted the whole pinche gang for murder.

All except for little brother Rudy.

He was at the Sleepy Lagoon, too, throwing chingazos.

The cops don't know that.

They got ways of finding out.

Guacha!

Cop.

Hi, boys.

The name's George Shearer. Your parents retained me to handle your case.

You mind if we sit and talk about it a little bit?

Uh... Did you say to sit down?

Thank you. Uh...

Well...

First thing we better do is get your names straight.

Let's see here. Who's Jose Castro?

Right here.

- Ismael Torres. - Yeah, that's me.

But they call me Smiley. Smiley?

I see.

You must be Thomas Roberts, huh? I ain't Zoot Suit Yokum.

Well, that makes you Henry Reyna.

So what if I am? Who are you?

I told you. The name's George Shearer. I'm a people's lawyer, Henry.

People's lawyer?

Simon, ese. We're people.

At least they didn't send no animal's lawyer.

What does that mean?

You work for free or what?

That's really none of your damn business, is it, Henry?

But for what it's worth, I'll tell you a little story.

The first murder case I ever tried,

and won, incidentally, was for a Filipino.

I was paid exactly $3.50 plus a pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes,

and a note for $1,000, never redeemed.

Does that answer your question?

Yeah, well, how do we know you're really a lawyer?

Well, you think I'm a cop? Maybe.

What are you trying to hide from the cops? Murder?

Sabes que, Mr. Shearer?

Don't do us any favors.

All right. All right. You want another lawyer.

All right, I'll talk to the public defender's office about it.

Wait a minute, ese, where you going?

All right, come on, kids.

Come on. Cut the crap.

All right. All right!

It's fine, everything's fine.

Thank you.

I think you're making a big mistake.

I wonder if you, uh, know who your friends really are.

You realize that you boys are facing a mass trial?

Any of you know what that means?

You're all going on the block together, the whole so-called

38th Street Gang.

The D.A.'s charging conspiracy, Henry!

He's going to put you and all your buddies right in the gas chamber.

- But we didn't do nothing. - Simon!

We're innocent. On the level.

Okay,

say we believe your people's lawyer stuff. What does that prove?

The press has already tried and convicted us. You think you can change that?

I honestly don't know.

Public opinion comes and goes, Henry.

What matters is our system of justice.

I happen to believe that it still works,

no matter how slowly the wheels grind.

Hell, I promised your parents the best defense that I'm capable of.

The question is, Henry...

Will you trust me?

Chale!

We need a lawyer, ese. You expect us to defend ourselves?

What difference does it make?

"What difference does it make?"

Who's epinche side are you on, anyway?

The side of the heroes and the fools, Hank.

Which one are you?

You're on. Hey, good.

Same here. It's about time.

All right.

Now let's get to work. Now...

I want you guys to tell me exactly what happened.

Right from the beginning.

Rafas pushed Rudy...

The pedo really started at the dance last Saturday night.

- Orale, little dude. - Hey, Rudy!

Orale! Who do you think you are? Don't touch me!

How about a dance for old time's sake?

Wanna trade partners? Sorry, Bertha.

Is this your new huisa?

This little fly chick?

Come on, Berti. Let's dance.

Golly.

Ese, Hank. That's the Downey Gang.

Think they're looking for pedo?

Nel, ese. There's only a couple of them. Be cool.

"Be cool." Huy, huy, huy.

Forget it, Smiley. He's with Shirley Temple.

She doesn't know the difference between being cool

and being culo.

Watch your mouth, Bertha.

Mmm!

Hank, I feel like everybody's looking at us.

So? Give them the shine.

Hank, I'd really like a cigarette.

Oh, yeah? Yeah.

Okay, let's go for a smoke.

Hey, sailor. How you doing? Hey. Out of my way.

Hey, carnal! What do you say, brother?

Ese.

How do you feel?

I'm flying high, Jackson. I'm feeling good.

I'm gonna join the Army Air Force, carnal.

Simon, tail gunners.

Button up your fly, gunner.

Oof. Simon, ese.

Huisa, Lupe-Lu.

Rudy, if you go home drunk again,

mi papa is going to use you for a punching bag.

Right.

Are you and your tomato going out to the Sleepy Lagoon?

Why? You need an excuse to take my sis, cabron?

What are you looking at, ese?

Jesus, Hank, have a little finesse.

Hey!

Hey, vato!

Ese, Rafas!

Maybe we should take Rudy home.

Relax.

Everything's under control.

Come on. Let's dance.

Hey, man!

Don't push me around, man!

It was an accident, ese. You're chicken shit.

Come on, carnal. I can take care of myself. Rudy, you're drunk.

I told you not to mess with my familia, Rafas.

We were after the Navy bean. Aguita la, ese.

Let's kick this swab jockey's ass together.

I don't like the odds.

You think you're some kinda hot shit just because the Navy accepted you, huh, ese?

As if you didn't try?

You better go back to Downey, ese, before you regret it.

Don't let him tell you that, ese.

Toma, ese! That's what I think of your puta Navy, Army and Marines.

What are you going to do about it?

I'm gonna have to teach you some manners.

You and how many queers?

Just me and you, cabron.

All right. That's the way you want it? You got it.

All right!

Come on.

Pues, that's exactly what the show needs right now, ese.

Two more Mexicans killing each other.

Guacha!

Everybody's looking at you, ese.

Don't give me that bullshit. I got this filero from you.

Did I tell you to kill the vato?

Control yourself, Hank.

Don't hate your raza more than you love the gringo.

- Get out of here. Pintate! - What? Oh, shit!

I'll see you later.

Anytime, cabron, after the war.

You did it, ese!

You were solid, Hank! That was all reet.

He didn't do nothing.

The old Hank would have slit that Rafas' bell

like a fat pig.

That's all I'm gonna take from you, Bertha. It's over.

Come on, baby.

Buy U.S. war bonds!

Defeat Downey! 38 rifa!

Henry Reyna?

Hello. My name is Alice Bloomfield,

and I represent the Congress of Industrial Organizations.

Okay. So?

Henry,

I'm here to offer you the support of the working people.

And you're gonna need the support of the working people, Henry,

because the press has been saying that this pachuco crime wave...

That this pachuco crime wave

is fascist-inspired.

- Can you beat that? - No.

They claim it's sinarquismo.

Sinarquismo.

"A fifth-column fascist movement dancing to tunes played by Rome,

"Tokyo, and Berlin, as relayed through Mexico City."

Did you ever hear of it?

This one's all yours, ese.

Look, lady, I ain't stupid,

but I don't know what the hell you're talking about.

I'm talking about you, Henry,

and what the Daily Press has been saying about you.

Are you aware you're in here

because some big shot up in San Simeon wants to sell a few papers?

It's true. So what?

So he's the man that started all this Mexican crime wave stuff. You get the picture?

Somebody's using you as a patsy. Who you calling patsy?

I meant a political victim. What do you mean, "victim"?

Uh, look, let's back this whole thing up and start all over again, okay?

Henry Reyna, hello. My name is Alice. I'm with the CIO.

Puro pedo. She's nothing but a dumb broad, only good for you-know-what. Vamonos.

Look, thanks a lot, Miss Bloomfield,

but I'd rather be left alone, all right?

Oh, wait a minute. Please.

I'm someone who wants very much to be your friend.

Can you believe that?

Why should I? Because I'm with you.

Yeah? Well, how come you ain't in jail with me?

We're all in jail, Henry.

Some of us just don't know it.

Alice?

Hey, George. What the hell are you doing here?

Never mind. I should know better than to ask. Have you two met?

I introduced myself. Twice. Oh, figures. Figures.

Alice has volunteered to help me in this case, Henry.

She's gotta be the most red-hot organizer the CIO's ever had.

George, that's a lot of red-hot you-know-what.

You see what I mean?

Well, you two have a lot of work to do, and my ego is killing me.

Whoa, whoa, Alice!

Just a minute. I'll be right with you.

Guard.

Well, Henry, uh...

Tomorrow's a big day. Anything you need?

Anything I can get for you besides clean clothes?

Some socks. Some underwear. I can't go to court looking like this.

I want you, uh, to take a look at this, son.

That's Latin for "Don't let the bastards get you down."

Excuse me, um, do you have a light?

Sorry, there's no smoking here.

Trust me. Thanks a lot.

Thank you. I didn't even see it.

Come on, Alice. Let's scram.

Good luck, Henry. We're gonna beat this rap.

"Good luck, Henry. We're gonna beat this rap."

You really think you stand a chance, ese?

Yeah, I think I stand a chance.

Because that white broad says so?

Nel, ese. Because Hank Reyna says so.

The political patsy, huh?

Mira, ese.

Hank Reyna's no loser.

I'm gonna come out of this thing on top.

Don't try to out-pachuco me, ese.

Pues, we'll see who comes out on top.

Let's go to court.

The Superior Court of the State of California in and for the County of Los Angeles,

Department 43. The Honorable F.W. Charles presiding. All rise.

Please be seated.

Call this case, Bailiff.

The People of the State of California v. Henry Reyna,

Ismael Torres, Thomas Roberts, Joey Castro,

and 18 other pacoocos.

Your Honor, it was reported to me on Friday

that the district attorney had absolutely forbidden the sheriff's office

to permit these boys clean clothes or haircuts.

Now, Your Honor, it has been two months since these boys were arrested.

Your Honor, the boys of the 38th Street Gang

are characterized by their haircuts. Two months, Your Honor.

The thick, heavy heads of hair, the ducktail comb, the...

You're trying to make these boys look disreputable, like mobsters!

Yet clothes like these are being worn by kids all over America.

The zoot clothes seem to be necessary

for purposes of identification of the defendants by witnesses.

I don't believe we'll have any difficulty if they get a little dirty.

What about their haircuts, Your Honor?

They didn't go to jail looking like Marines, Mr. Shearer.

Their hair was long to begin with.

It's a little late to try to change their tonsorial appearance.

You may call your first witness.

The prosecution calls Sergeant Frank Galindo

of the Los Angeles Police Department.

Sergeant Frank Galindo of the Los Angeles Police Department!

Look at your gang, ese.

They do look like mobsters.

Place your left hand on the Bible. Raise your right hand.

Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth...

Come on, vato, sit up.

I'm tired, Hank. My butt is sore.

Yeah. Look at the soft chairs the jury's got.

Come on, Hank is right, vatos. We look bad.

Put some class on your ass.

Sit up. Come on.

Sergeant Galinda, were you the first officer to arrive at the Williams Ranch

near the so-called Sleepy Lagoon

on the night of, or the early morning of August 1, 1942?

Yes, sir.

I got a call saying that there was

a disturbance there stemming from a birthday party.

When I arrived, I found the body of Jose Sanchez.

You talked to the mother of the deceased in Spanish?

Yes. That's correct. She told me it was her birthday party.

She said a gang of pachucos attacked the ranch about 1:00 a.m.

Henry Reyna and his 38th Street Gang.

Objection, Your Honor.

The use of the word "gang" is prejudicial to my clients.

Objection overruled.

"The Caucasian,

"especially the Anglo-Saxon youths, when engaged in fighting...

"will resort to fisticuffs, and may at times kick each other,

"which is considered unsportive.

"But this Mexican element considers all this to be a sign of weakness.

"And all he knows and feels

"is a desire to use a knife to kill. Or to at least let blood.

"This inborn characteristic comes down from the blood thirsty Aztecs."

Objection, Your Honor!

Objection overruled!

I move that this entire report be stricken from the record!

You're out of order, Mr. Shearer. Objection overruled.

You may proceed.

"And when added to the use of liquor or marijuana,

"then we certainly have crimes of violence."

Put on your feathers, ese.

♪ Mari-marijuana, mari-marijuana boogie

♪ Mari-marijuana, mari-marijuana boogie

♪ Mari-marijuana That's my baby's name

♪ Put on your drapes Ese, vato

♪ Make those calcos shine

♪ Ooh-wop Ah!

♪ Put on your drapes Ese, vato

♪ Make those calcos shine

♪ Ooh-wop Ah!

♪ They're holding court on the corner Marijuana boogie time

Still feeling patriotic, ese?

What do you mean? The trial just started.

Let's cut the shit and get to the verdict.

This is 1942. Or is it 1492?

You're doing this to me, vato.

Something inside you craves the punishment,

the public humiliation and the human sacrifice.

But there's no more pyramids, carnal. Only the gas chamber.

But I didn't do it, ese. I didn't kill anybody!

♪ Got a woman named Juana

♪ Juana, Juana, Juana ♪ Juana

♪ But all the men she made love to They call her

♪ Marijuana

♪ Mari-marijuana That's my baby's name ♪

Who knows, ese?

Maybe your little chick can save your cachetes. Guacha!

After the dance that Saturday night,

Henry and I drove out to the lagoon around 11:30.

There was a new moon out that night.

As we got to the lagoon, we noticed right away the place was empty.

That's it, baby. It's beautiful.

It's just a reservoir.

At least at night you can't see the tires and tin cans.

Come here.

Come on.

It was such a beautiful night, and the sky was so full of stars.

Well, we couldn't just sit in the car, so we got out to look at the lagoon.

Neither of us said anything at first.

So the only sounds were the crickets and the frogs.

Then we began to hear music.

What's that?

It sounds like a party. Where?

Over there at that ranch. See the lights on the shacks?

Oh, yeah.

Sounds like some party.

Do you want to crash it?

Chale. I promised to keep you out of trouble, remember?

My father.

He makes me feel like a nun sometimes.

You know, you're the first guy he's let me go out with alone.

Maybe he knows what he's doing.

A lot of guys don't know how to respect a girl.

Go ahead, ese. Pop her cherry. You know she wants it.

What's wrong? Your old man and my old man.

I don't like shotgun weddings, esa.

Hank, I'm almost 18. You're going off to war, and I love you.

Not here, esa. Anyplace but here.

Too many memories of Bertha?

What do you want to bring her up for? I...

Do you want to be like her? Is that it? Huh?

Well, get in the back seat.

Come on, get in the back seat. Hank.

You must really think I'm a square.

I'm sorry, Della. I was just trying to prove a point.

I don't want to go to jail for statutory rape.

Why does everything have to be a crime with you?

Can't you just love somebody?

Just then, another car pulled up to the lagoon.

We thought it was Tommy and Lupe and the rest of the gang.

But it wasn't.

Come on, ese. We get to play now. Come on!

Come on, ese. Toma, ese!

You better stay here. Stay here. Hank...

Come and find out, puto! Come on!

Let's play some baseball!

Stay here!

Rafas and his gang left, heading for the party at the ranch,

and I held Henry in my arms until he came to.

The first thing he said was,

"Let's go into town and get the guys."

Come on, 38th!

It took about an hour to go into town and come back.

We parked by the lagoon and walked toward the ranch.

The lights were still on, but the place looked deserted.

I thought you said the joint was jumping.

Is this your idea of a big party?

I'm going to take care of that pinche Rafas for good.

- Ay, go to sleep, Rudy! - Shut up.

Looks like the party's over, Hank. You see any signs of Rafas?

Nel, ese. They're gone. Ah, well, then let's go to Downey and get them!

Chale!

Everybody, go home.

Go home? Put the car tools away. Go home!

Vamonos.

Get in the car.

Listen to what he says, Rudy.

That's when we heard music coming from the ranch again.

We didn't know Rafas and his gang were kicked out of the place

for starting fights and causing trouble. So when Joey said...

The party's still got life in it. Dancing to records.

Come on!

They all went there, yelling and laughing.

At the ranch, they saw us coming

and thought we were the Downey Gang coming back again.

They attacked us.

An old man ran out of the house with a kitchen knife, and Henry had to hit him.

And then some girl grabbed me by the hair...

And in a second, everybody was fighting and yelling.

Come on!

Before we got to the cars, I saw something out of the corner of my eye.

It was a guy, and he was hitting a man on the ground with a big stick.

And Henry yelled at him.

Come on!

Come on!

Come on!

But he wouldn't stop.

He wouldn't...

He wouldn't stop.

He wouldn't.

Your witness.

It has been brought to my attention

that the jury is having trouble telling one boy from another.

So I'm going to rule

that the defendants will stand each time their names are mentioned.

Objection, Your Honor!

If the prosecution makes an accusation, it will appear to be self-incrimination.

Not necessarily.

You may cross-examine, Mr. Prosecutor.

Ready for the verdict now, ese?

Chale.

Miss Barrios, are you deliberately concealing evidence from this court?

No. Are you covering for Henry Reyna?

- Please stand. - No.

Then who was this guy you saw beating another man on the ground?

It wasn't Henry.

He was standing right beside me. We were just defending...

I didn't ask for your comment. Why don't you ask me about the Downey Gang?

Just answer my question! But they attacked the party!

Maybe Jose Sanchez was already dead!

Your Honor, will you ask the witness to be cooperative?

I must caution you, young lady. Answer the questions

or I will hold you in contempt.

Sit down.

Now, Miss Barrios,

if your boyfriend wasn't the guy with the big stick, who was it?

It was too dark to tell.

How big a stick would you say it was, Miss Barrios?

As big as this one?

Objection! Your Honor, no such club was ever found.

The prosecution is implying... Your Honor, I'm not implying anything.

I'm merely using this stick as an illustration.

Objection overruled.

Could it have been a lead pipe? No.

How about a blackjack? A heavy chain? No. No!

A baseball bat? No!

Did your boyfriend run over to Jose Sanchez, hit him on the head, and kill him?

He could hardly walk. How could he run anyplace? No. No.

Did Smiley Torres? Did Joey Castro? No. No.

Did Tommy Roberts? Did Henry Reyna? No. No.

Henry Reyna, Henry Reyna, Henry Reyna!

Did Henry Reyna willfully murder Jose Sanchez?

No! No! No.

Whoo-hoo!

Objection! Objection, Your Honor!

The prosecution is pulling out objects from all over the place.

Objects that were never found at the Sleepy Lagoon,

objects that have never been proven

to be associated with my clients in any way whatsoever.

Objection overruled.

If the court please,

I wish to make an assignment of misconduct by the Bench.

Quite frankly, Mr. Shearer, I'm getting rather tired

of your repeated, useless objections.

I have not made useless objections.

Oh, I'm sorry. Someone is using ventriloquism.

We have a Charlie McCarthy using Mr. Shearer's voice.

I'm going to assign that remark of Your Honor as misconduct.

Fine! I would feel rather badly

if you did not make an assignment of misconduct at least twice every session.

You'll have them, Your Honor.

How would you like to get slapped with a citation for contempt, Mr. Shearer?

Witness is excused.

However, I'm going to remand her to the custody

of the Ventura State School for Girls for a period of one year.

What?

To be held there as a juvenile ward of the state.

Bailiff. If the court please. If the court please!

This court is at recess until tomorrow morning.

I'm sorry about Della, Henry, and I'm afraid it was my fault.

I shouldn't have antagonized the judge.

I thought you said we had a chance. Now listen to me, son.

This case is going to be won on appeal.

Appeal? What did I tell you, ese?

You mean you know we're gonna lose?

It's not unusual, Henry. It happens all the time.

Don't you see, Henry? Judge Charles is hanging himself as we go.

I've already cited over 100 separate cases of misconduct by the Bench.

It's all going into the record.

Prejudicial error denial of due process, inadmissible evidence...

Don't give me any more of your shit.

Henry.

Is there anything I can do?

Ready now, ese.

Simon.

Then let's have it.

Has the jury reached a verdict?

We have, Your Honor.

How say you?

We find the defendants guilty of murder in the first and second degrees.

Ay, hijo.

The defendants will rise.

Henry Reyna, Jose Castro,

Thomas Roberts, Ismael Torres,

you have been tried by a jury of your peers,

and found to be guilty of murder in the first and second degree.

The barrio needs you, ese.

The law prescribes the capital punishment for this offense.

Stand up to them with some style.

However, in view of your youth,

and considering your families...

Show the world Hank Reyna has some balls.

And remember... ...it is hereby the judgment of this court...

...pachucoyo, ese.

...that you be sentenced to life imprisonment

and sent to the state penitentiary at San Quentin.

24-528. - Torres.

24-527. - Roberts.

24-526. - Castro.

24-525. - Reyna.

Los Angeles, California. May 5, 1943.

Dear boys, announcing the publication by mimeograph

of the Appeal News.

Your very own newsletter, to be sent to you twice a month

for the purpose of keeping you reliably informed of everything:

the progress of the Sleepy Lagoon Defense Committee,

we have a name now, and of course, the matter of your appeal.

We are going to stand beside you until your names are absolutely clear.

I swear it.

"Viva el Cinco

"de Mayo.

"Your editor...

"Alice Bloomfield."

Hey, boys.

Any good news about the appeal? How's my wife?

One at a time, guys. Tommy, this is for you. It's from your mother.

Careful, I think it's a cake. Hey, careful.

And this is cigarettes. Oh, wow.

And "Love from Elena."

These are for Henry.

And that is for Joey.

Thanks, Grandma.

Do you mind if I call you Grandma?

No, I don't think so.

I like your zoot pants. Ah, bonaroo, huh?

Solid!

I'm a what? Aruca. A fine chick.

De aquellas.

De aquellas.

Ooh! All reet, esa.

Hey, look, Miss Bloomfield. I don't want my wife going around begging.

Oh, it's not begging. It's fundraising.

I don't care what you call it. I don't like it.

There's no shame in asking for money for a good cause.

It's not our custom.

If that's what it's gonna take, then count me out. Smiley, wait a minute.

Okay, it's not your custom.

I won't ask your wife to go door-to-door, okay?

So where's Henry? Isn't he joining us? He couldn't make it.

Why not?

Look, that's his business. Leave him alone.

I'm afraid I can't do that, Smiley. It's not my custom.

Joey, what's going on?

Okay, Tommy, give. Don't look at me, doll.

Look, Tommy, I didn't come here to do anything but bring a few letters and...

Listen, Alice.

I know what you're trying to do for us, and that's reet, see?

Shit. Most Paddies would probably like to see us locked up for good.

I'm in here because I hung around with Mexicans.

But I grew up with these vatos, and I'm pachuco, too, you see?

Simon, esa.

You'd better learn what it means to be Chican,

and I mean PDQ.

Hello, Henry. I'd like to talk to you in private.

You vatos want any of this Okie corn bread?

Orale. Paddy cake, ese!

All reet, ese. That's good.

What can I do for you? For me? Ni madre.

I don't understand.

I'm dropping out of the case, Alice.

You're what? You heard me.

I'm bailing out, esa. Getting out of the case.

Henry, you can't. Why can't I?

Because you... You can't.

What about George and your family, and all the people in the barrio

who've given their time and money in the last few months?

You can't just quit.

Oh, no? Just watch me.

Henry, if you felt this way before, why didn't you tell me?

Well, why didn't you ask me?

But you've seen me coming and going.

I've been writing to you, speaking for you, traveling up and down the state.

Nothing has come before my attachment and my involvement

and my passion for this case.

- My boys have been everything to me. - "My boys"?

"My boys," Alice?

What the hell are we, your personal property?

Let me set you straight, lady. I ain't your boy, sabes?

You know I never meant it like that.

You're just a white broad using Mexicans to play politics.

Congratulations, Henry.

That's the worst thing anyone has ever said to me.

Why don't you go help the colored people?

Why don't you go to hell?

You know, you really ought to try working

at the Sleepy Lagoon Defense office for a few months.

All the petty arguments, and the haggling, and the lack of cooperation.

"You're too sentimental and emotional about this, Alice.

"You're too cold-hearted, Alice.

"Alice, you're collecting money and handing it over to the lawyer

"while the families are going hungry? Alice!

"Alice, they say you can't be trusted 'cause you're a Communist.

"'Cause you're a Jew, Alice."

Okay. That's the way they feel about me?

The hell with them. I hate them, too.

I hate their language.

I hate their enchiladas!

And I hate their goddamn mariachi music!

You all right, miss? Yes. I'm fine.

You got a lot of guts.

No one's ever talked to me like that before.

Yeah, well, you gotta watch out for us white broads, ese.

I take it back, all right?

I said a few things, too. I don't really hate enchiladas.

It's huevos rancheros I can't stand.

Pues, how about huevos pachucos?

So...

- What do we do now? - You tell me.

Can we go on with the appeal?

Okay. Good.

And now, um, I was wondering if you would do something

very special for me.

Write an article.

No, I'm serious. I'll get it published.

Article? Pues, who told you you could write, ese?

Chale. The guys would razz me silly. I can't write.

Puro pedo.

I've seen the letters you write to your family. Come on, Hank.

What do you say? Where's the old pachuco spirit?

Right here, and I say puro pedo.

Look, can't we just start by writing each other?

I mean, in private.

Of course. That's a... That's a wonderful idea.

Then it's a deal? Deal.

I think that we're going to be very good friends.

You think so? I know so.

Time, miss. Gotta go, boys.

Say hello to Berti for me, will you, Grandma?

And my wife Elena.

And give my love to Lupe. Time!

I gotta go.

We'll see you, Grandma. I love you.

Tough luck. She loves me.

Chale, ese. She loves me. She told me. Oh, come on.

So you got yourself a pen pal, huh? Don't lean on me, ese.

You're going stir-crazy, carnal.

Why don't you just let Manuela stroke you and get it over with?

That ruca is never gonna see you as a man, anyway.

You know what they say, carnal.

"A Latin lover's nothing but a fucking Mexican."

Orale.

Give me a break, vato. One break coming up.

Rec time!

♪ Keep your eyes on the ball

♪ Get your back against the wall

♪ Let the rhythm of each stroke become your pleasure

♪ Use your mind, concentrate

♪ You must win this bout with fate

♪ Or become a prisoner of its hold forever

♪ Handball ♪ Handball

♪ Handball ♪ Handball

♪ Watch the way it comes reflecting off the wall

♪ Handball ♪ Handball

♪ Handball ♪ Handball

♪ Oh, it's how you play the game that shapes your life

♪ Now you've got time on your hands

♪ So rise up and be a man

♪ And define the game according to your rules

♪ So just get hep, get in step

♪ Oh, the pace is yours to set

♪ And you alone control the tempo of the rhythm

♪ Handball ♪ Handball

♪ Handball ♪ Handball

♪ Watch the way it comes reflecting off the wall

♪ Handball ♪ Handball

♪ Handball ♪ Handball

♪ Oh, it's how you play the game that shapes your life ♪

Reyna!

Your, uh, Jewish broad's here again.

Hi, Licha. Hello, Henry.

I went to Ventura. I've seen Della.

Aren't you gonna ask me how she is?

Yeah, how is she?

She looks fine.

She, uh...

She's very strong.

So?

I hate it when you do that to me.

Half the time, I don't know who I'm talking to.

Why didn't you answer my letters, Alice?

Nobody ever wrote me love letters before.

I'll keep them, Henry, but I can't answer them. I can't.

I can't be your mother or your sister or your huisa,

or your white broad.

Nobody's asking you to be a white broad.

I don't know who to be for you.

No.

I am Alice Bloomfield. I'm a person, just like you.

When we win this appeal,

you get to go home

and I get to go on to the next fight.

That's who I am.

And if I lose sight of that, then I don't know what I'm doing here.

Thanks a lot, Miss Bloomfield.

If you walk out on me this time, I won't stop you.

Bye, Hank.

Licha, huh?

Theruca really put it to you.

You know what your problem is, Hank?

You can't stand yourself, and you can't stand me telling you.

Shut up, ese.

San Quilmas was made for self-victimizing suckers like you, Hank.

Underneath that big, tough, bullshit exterior you put on,

is a little snot-nosed Mexican kid... Shut up.

...begging for the gringos' attention. Shut up.

You've turned yourself into a target, ese,

a willing victim of the pinche racists, and they threw you in prison for life.

Shut up!

All right. New work assignments. Everybody report to the jute mill.

Let's go!

What's the matter with you, Reyna? Got lead in your pants?

I said, let's go.

We're supposed to work in the mess hall.

Well, you've got a new assignment. Since when?

Since now. Get going!

Hey, come on. Yeah. Be cool, ese.

Does the warden know about this?

What the hell do you care? You think you're something special?

Come on. Move it, grease-ball. Make me, you white Paddy bastard.

Back. Back off. Back off! Don't be stupid.

All right, Reyna. You got solitary. I'd say about 90 days.

Where in the hell have you been, ese?

Solitary.

They gave me solitary.

Only this reality is real now, Hank.

Only this place is real.

Sitting in the lonely cell of your will.

Guacha.

Each second is a raw drop of blood from your brain

that you must swallow drop by drop.

And don't even start counting, ese,

or you'll lose your mind.

Where am I, ese?

What am I doing here?

You're here to learn to live with yourself, Hank.

You're a marijuana dreamer

floating in an endless night of unfulfilled fantasies,

and there is no time.

I'm Henry Reyna, ese. Hank Reyna!

A dream,carnal. Just a dream.

My family.

I gotta think about my family.

Mi hijo.

My carnalillo.

My sis.

Forget them. Forget them all.

Forget your family and the barrio beyond the wall.

There's still a chance I'll get out. Fat chance, ese.

I'm talking about the appeal! I'm talking about what's real.

Haven't you learned?

Learned what?

No court in the land's gonna set you free.

You're in here for life, vato.

The moment your hopes come crashing down,

you'll find yourself on the ground, foaming at the mouth, como loco.

I got you all figured out.

I know who you are, carnal.

You're the one that got me here.

And you know what?

You're me.

My worst enemy...

And my best friend.

Myself.

So get lost.

Get lost!

Orale pues!

Pues, don't take the pinche play so seriously. Jesus!

You want me to go?

But not before you check out what's happening back home today.

The Navy has landed on leave with full pay,

and war is breaking out on the streets of L.A.

Come on. Out.

You get your hands off of me!

I'm feeling suave tonight.

Let's dance.

Let's get out of here.

No!

Orale! That's enough!

Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. North and South America,

and all the ships at sea,

Let's go to press.

"Flash. Los Angeles, California. June 3, 1943.

"Serious rioting broke out here tonight as flying squadrons of Marines

"and soldier joined the Navy in a new assault on the zooter-infested districts.

"A fleet of 20 taxicabs carrying some

"pulled out of the naval armory at Chavez Ravine tonight

"and assembled a task force that invaded the eastside barrios.

"The zoot-suiters, those gamin dandies..."

Why don't you tell them what I really am, ese,

or how you're forbidden from using the very word?

We're complying in the interest of the war.

How are you complying?

By using other terms. Like "pachuco" and "zoot-suiter"?

What's wrong with that? The zoot-suit crime wave

is even beginning to push the war news off the front page.

The press has distorted the very meaning of the word "zoot suit."

All it is for you guys is another way to say "Mexican"

without insulting your ally south of the border.

But the idea of the original chuco is to look like a diamond.

To look sharp, hip, bonaroo.

Finding a style of urban survival in the rural skirts and outskirts

of the brown metropolis of Los, cabron.

Come on! It's an affront to good taste.

Like the Mexican, the Filipino and the black who wear it?

Looks just as ridiculous on the white kids.

You mean the wops and Jews?

Hey, look, sport, be honest. You guys weren't even wearing clothes

when the white man pulled you out of the jungle.

If a uniform is what you want, join the goddamn Army.

Why?

Because there's a war going on. What the hell are you trying to prove?

You're no better than anybody else in the States.

We've got shortages!

Patriotic citizens are going without collars and cuffs so you can wear those zoot suits!

So? So what are we fighting for,

if not to annihilate the enemies of the American way of life?

Perdon, senor. Is that supposed to be us?

There's that spic. Come on!

- Get him! - Let's go!

Yeah, sucker!

- Come on! That's it! - We got you now!

Asshole!

I said, is that supposed to be us?

Say it.

Go on. Say it!

Kill the pachuco bastards!

Come on, zooter. Think you're more important than the war, zooter, huh?

Let's see if you've got any balls in those funny pant, boy.

Come on, man. Maybe we shouldn't be doing this. Are you nuts?

- What'd he do to us? - Draft dodger.

Watch out for the knife.

- Come on. - Look out!

Come on, boy.

All right. Come on!

Son of a bitch.

Caged like an animal.

A monkey in a monkey suit.

Come on. Tear it off his back.

He dropped the shiv! Get him!

Grab him.

That's it. Fight, sucker! Come on.

They ganged up on me, carnal.

You left me, and they ganged up on me.

Why?

Why didn't you take me with you?

I was at the Sleepy Lagoon. I was there throwing chingazos like everybody else.

I went to the pinche dance with Bertha.

I was wearing your zoot suit.

All chingon in your tacuche.

They stripped me.

They stripped me, carnal.

Hijo.

They stripped me.

They told me you did 90 days in solitary.

You okay?

Simon.

When did you get out? A while ago.

I got four months off for good behavior.

It's good to see you.

I was afraid things had changed.

So much has happened.

I heard you're living with my jefitos. Yeah.

When I got out of Ventura, my parents gave me a choice,

forget about you, or get out, so...

Alice says you guys will be out soon.

Oh, yeah? Yeah.

George is ready with the appeal brief.

Oh, Hank, it's almost over.

Then what? I'll be an ex-con.

What do you think I am?

Look, Hank, I'm not trying to push you into anything.

If you still want me, orale, suave!

But if you don't, that's okay, too.

But I'm not gonna hang around like apendeja all my life.

I got nothing to give you, Della.

Just give me some hope. How?

Ask me to wait.

But what if we lose the appeal? We won't.

I've screwed up your life enough already.

You did eight months for me. Isn't that enough?

I would die for you.

I love you.

Pero me chingan la madre if I'm gonna throw away my life for nothing.

Della.

Wait.

No touching.

What the hell. Go ahead.

- I love you. - I love you.

If the late summer of 1942 was the low point,

two years later, the war for the Allies is pounding its way toward certain victory.

On the home front, Americans go on with their daily lives

with growing confidence and relief as the war pushes on to inevitable triumph.

Los Angeles Daily Press, Wednesday, November 8, 1944.

Headline: "District Court of Appeals Decides in Sleepy Lagoon Murder Case.

"Boys in San Quentin given..."

Freedom!

Orale. Good to see you, ese.

I thought I lost you.

It'd take more than the U.S. Navy to wipe me out, ese.

Welcome back. It's good to be home.

No hard feelings, Hank. Chale. We won, didn't we?

Simon, ese.

And that's a perfect way to end this play.

Happy ending y todo.

Eh!

But life ain't that way, Hank.

Henry Reyna went back to prison in 1947

for robbery and assault with a deadly weapon.

While incarcerated, he killed another inmate

and wasn't released until 1955, when he got into hard drugs.

He died of the trauma of his life in 1972.

That's the way you see it, ese,

but there's other ways to end this story.

Hey, baby, go!

Henry Reyna went to Korea in 1950.

He was shipped there on a destroyer and defended the 38th parallel,

but he was killed at Inchon in 1952

being posthumously awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor.

Henry Reyna married Della Barrios in 1948. They still live in Los Angeles.

They have five kids, three of whom are now attending university,

speaking pachuco slang and calling themselves Chicanos.

Henry Reyna, the born leader.

Henry Reyna, the zoot-suiter.

Henry Reyna, my friend.

Henry Reyna, my brother.

Henry Reyna. Our son.

Henry Reyna, my love.

Henry Reyna, El Pachuco.

The man, the myth still lives.

Hey!