Original subtitles

I'm the man who's gonna take down Kate Leigh and Tilly Devine

and you're gonna help me.

Nobody pushes me around.

I haven't even started to push yet.

We got rid of your mate Squizzy Taylor,

and we can get rid of you.

Judge says Kate Leigh must be the worst woman in Sydney.

No mention of Tilly Devine.

You're a gangster, aren't you? Say you are.

Gives you a thrill, does it?

I've never met anyone like you.

I know from our contacts down south you're a serious fella.

I thought maybe we can do some good for each other.

You see, I don't think I need a fancy man like you, Phil.

Sorry, Mr Bruhn. Bloody heck.

I'd sooner out me own heart out.

You ever had a razor cut? The bleeding never stops.

With these things, one stroke light as a feather,

you can open a man's face to the bone.

Walk in the light - be visible.

You're sending a message -

Darlinghurst is not a lawless town, right?

Off you go.

Be careful, won't you? Yeah, yeah.

They wouldn't know what to do without you.

George Wallace?! G'day, Sid.

You want a donnybrook?

That's not exactly what we had in mind.

Are you looking for series in italian? Find them on filmamo.it !

Norman Bruhn had launched his grand plan

to drive Tilly and Kate out of business.

He'd attacked the toughest man in Sydney,

leaving a calling card that was violent and bloody

and impossible to ignore.

Oi! Don't give for free nothing you could charge for!

Don't flash your bloomers neither!

Hello, Kelly.

Coming in to spend your dosh?

Where's your brother?

He ain't here?

We praised that clam open good and proper.

If Jack had pressed just that bit harder,

there'd be one less Kelly thieving oxygen.

Pressed as hard as I wanted him to.

But won't he come after you - Kicker Kelly?

Very bloody disappointed if the coot don't oblige

with a bit of payback.

And when Kelly or his brother or their mates have a go,

I'll cut them up and send them back out again as me messengers.

And if they want to have another go, I'll cut them again.

Yeah!

If they're thick enough to have another go, I'll cut them again.

Any of them. I'll cut them.

And I'll keep on cutting until Kate Leigh, Tilly Devine,

Phil 'The Jew' Jeffs, the whole bang lot of them

get me message.

Irene, goodnight.

Noel wiggled that loose tooth out.

Long last.

Think you can find him a ha'penny?

You know I'm the tooth fairy.

What are you doing?

You lost a button.

I can match it.

So, who was it, Sid?

Couldn't say.

Tall? Short? Fair? Dark?

Couldn't say.

Razor.

Unusual weapon.

Gave the forks to this barber once.

Maybe he's getting square.

Enough, Kelly.

Tilly Devine and Kate Leigh have been rowing for years.

No-one's ever taken a cutthroat to a man before.

Or have you just stood over one drunk too many?

I'm not being a copper for you.

I'm not saying a thing.

Mum.

Mum, the kettle's boiling.

Irene.

You'll have the range out.

Eat up, boys.

Keith...

...eat your breakfast.

The assault certainly made the victim's blood flow.

His attacker's weapon was not a pistol or cosh,

so this correspondent was told,

an ordinary folding razor.

Ooh, a razor.

It's a good idea. You should carry one, Jim.

You too, Frank.

I'm a gunman, Tilly, not a razor man.

You don't get six months in Long Bay jail for carrying a razor.

Slashing Kicker Kelly.

This cove Norman Bruhn ought to have his wits about him.

He puts his filthy mitts on our business,

I'll bloody take to him with a bloody razor of me own.

Alright, girls, clean drawers time!

Hey, careful, now, you'll put an eye out.

Hey, ain't them the boys who slashed Kelly?

Get your hand off it, sonny.

Shut your eyes.

Put out your hand.

Shrapnel.

Present from Pozi�res.

Medic dug it out and I kept it.

Good luck charm.

Don't look at that bloke again.

Fallen comrades.

Lest we forget.

Start something round here...

gotta finish it.

Melbourne.

No weapons.

Go ahead.

See how far you get.

Like everyone else, Norman Bruhn had been expecting reprisals.

They were part of his plan.

But he'd imagined a dark alley and a razor in his hand.

He'd imagined winning.

Imagined scaring Kate and Tilly even further

What he got was a classic Sydney packarding,

after Packard, the make of boot the gangsters favoured.

The assault was witnessed by a dozen sly imbibers

yet police say none could, or would,

identify the men responsible. ”

The chief victim, Mr Norman Bruhn,

is the reputed leader of the worst gang of thugs on the street.

But Mrs Kate Leigh, a person who's sometimes described

as the Queen of the Underworld,

told this correspondent

that though she had heard Mr Bruhn's name in passing,

she thought him of no consequence. ”

So...

Norm.

Clear off.

All of you.

Missus

Baby Ray has a dog.

The dog is lit...

.. lit...

Little.

The dog is little.

Keep practicing, Keithy.

Show up all them posh kids, eh?

Baby Ray has a dog. The dog is little. ”

Norm.

Maybe...

you should get out of this business you're in...

Don't start.

I'm lying here and you're having a go at how I bring in a bloody earn.

Language, love.

You've got enough to eat, don't you?

Boys aren't in bloody rags, are they?

Everything I do is for you and the boys.

I came up here to get us a better life

and that's what I'm gonna do.

A wise man would have given up and gone back to Melbourne.

But for Norman Bruhn, there was no going back.

On the contrary,

he went on and on,

pushing harder and closer to Tilly and Kate.

His strategy was simple.

He was going to panic them into leaving,

scare them into yielding.

After all,

they were only a couple of women.

How much calculated terror could they take?

I He's got me in the palm of his hand

The third target of Norman's standover campaign

was Phil Jeffs and his two-up schools.

They were a handy and inexhaustible little earner:

You, get him to St Vincent's.

In those heady bygone days,

a weapon of terror cost just a few pence.

Suddenly, every street hood and standover wannabe in the city

was carrying a Bengal blade and using it.

Norman Bruhn had ushered in the era of the razor gangs.

More razor attacks! Streets are running red!

Read it in 'Truth'!

More razor attacks! Streets are running red!

As for the police,

well, Blind Freddy could see there was a war on.

But figuring out the whos, whys and wherefores,

well, that required someone actually opening their mouth.

So, whose blood's that, then?

That yours, Ernest Wilson?

Not yours, I hope, Mr Jeffs.

No, it's not blood, Inspector.

My clumsy associate here, he spilled a pot of paint.

What the fuck's going on?

Nothing.

What the fuck is going on?

Nothin'.

Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?

You're a sensible woman, Kate.

Something nasty's brewing.

Besides your watered-down whisky.

I don't water me whisky.

Well, whatever this is, it's getting out of hand.

Is it Jeffs?

The Devines? Are you and Tilly feuding again?

Or have you ladies pitched in together,

decided you'll slash your way through the competition?

Bill, I know that you've got a job to do,

but there's three things that you need to know.

One,

I don't water me whisky.

Two,

I've always looked after me own.

And three,

I could boot Tilly Devine a bigger distance

than I'd trust her to pitch in with anyone.

Don't understand why you'd think of me and her in the same breath.

Selling illicit liquor,

peddling dope,

ruining young girls' lives.

No-one can say I've done terrible things like Kate Leigh.

Er... Mrs Devine, I'm trying to help you here.

Jeffs, you, Kate Leigh,

someone's targeting you 'cause you all trade in the same general area.

Listen, 'Mackie', I wouldn't let me dog shit in the same fucking area

as Kate fucking Leigh.

Now, fuck off out of me house. I got shit to do.

Go on!

Turn around.

Turn around. Can I've a go next, Dad?

Course you can. Keep pedaling.

Keep pedaling.

Prince of Wales had one just like it.

Pedaled it round Windsor Castle.

Soon I'll buy us a place in the suburbs.

Maroubra, maybe.

Lane Cove.

Some nice new clothes,

silk stockings...

electric sewing machine.

Some books for the boys.

Norman Bruhn had hand-picked his gang with an eye to diversity.

Snowy Cutmore was a vicious loose cannon,

George Wallace was a loyal attack dog.

While 'Razor Jack' Hayes,

well, he brought certain technical skills.

And you could never be sure

where the gang would strike next.

Butchers a no-show.

Didn't appreciate being blown up.

Can't say I blame him.

Oh, yeah, those two blokes selling your snow

up on Oxford Street?

Gone back to the pie factory.

Probably worried about their throats gettin" slashed.

Jeez, thanks for your insight, May.

Barney's here.

Don't be so familiar. He's Mr Dalton to you.

Where you been?

Out delivering spuds.

Ran from Cleveland Street, down Crown, to the wharfs.

Do Sprints? Anyone in the groggeries?

Yeah, Sprints with... Ma, can I have a scone?

Thinking of trying this weekend... No, not a soul. Bruhn's scared 'em all off.

What about Kippax Street? Mack's?

Ma, can I've a scone? No, you can't.

You'll spoil your figure.

Will you two stop talking football?!

Actually, all of youse, just get out of me kitchen.

Go on, piss off!

Not you.

Ugh!

We need more blades.

You make sure that Greg, Octopus, Barney,

make sure all the boys carry 'em.

If that's what you want.

Well, I don't want.

I don't want to stoop to Norman Bruhn's filthy level,

but you have to retaliate first.

You do have a friend in a high place.

Maybe he could help.

I don't think the Lord's gonna piss Bruhn off for me

no matter how hard I pray.

I was thinking of a more earthly power.

So Norman Bruhn's behind this mayhem?

And you, Jeffs, the Devines, have all been turning the other cheek?

You wanted someone to tell you what's what.

Norman Bruhn, that's what.

Now go out and arrest him.

Your men, they're prepared to stand in court,

swear it was Bruhn who out 'em?

Nah.

St Vincent's treated 22 razor victims this past month.

One lad lost an ear.

Another had his sniffer lopped off.

Not one of them'd say how they came to be hurt.

Folk are scared of Bruhn and his droobs.

And they're scared of you and yours and Jeffs and the Devines.

Pains me to say this,

but not one of you's in line for a sainthood.

Everything was just fine before Bruhn swanned up from Melbourne.

Until one of you lot breaks your precious code of silence,

there's precious little I can do about him.

We turn over a place, couple of days it opens up again.

Making next to no boodle.

Told you these Sydney sheilas weren't pushovers.

They got a lot of dosh and muscle.

No, this is bull, Norm. We should just...

Shut up.

show some balls and fix the bitches...

Shut up, you galah.

Mr Bruhn.

Inspector Mackay, Darlinghurst Police.

I believe you've already had the pleasure

of Detective Sergeant Wickham's acquaintance.

We're conducting a Search for illegal weapons

under section 4.1 of the Pistol Licensing Act 1927.

Interesting.

That's not a pistol.

Here's a puzzler, Detective Wickham.

Why would a man carry a razor in his pocket

when he pays another man to shave him?

It's not illegal.

Get 'em

You want to watch out, Mr Bruhn.

You're making a name for yourself. Yeah?

Aye.

Which means we'll be keeping a nice close eye on you.

Luigi, give us half a dozen more of your best Bengals, will ya?

Go on, show us what you got. Get off.

I hate bloody footy.

All that runnin" and sweatin'

Never would have guessed.

What do you want, George?

I want your wallet, Wally.

Wallet, Wally. Wallet, Wally.

Arrgh!

It wasn't his face or even his arm.

Barney Dalton was one of the most popular rugby league players

of his era.

But not after a severed Achilles tendon.

Not after Norman Bruhn.

Ma.

They're for Barney and Wally.

Pass me that cake tin.

The Jew's here. Hey?

Phil The Jew.

Here in our house?

Morning.

How's your boys?

Well, Barney will walk with a limp for the rest of his days

and Wally, well, he's not winning any beauty pageants.

He was no oil painting to begin with.

You know, I knew Bruhn was a bastard,

but this... this was a real bastard act.

Well, you know what his game is, don't you?

He's gonna go through all our people till he gets to us.

You, me, Tilly.

Yeah, well, I'm not scared of him.

He's welcome to the cockney slag.

Kate,

if he takes out just one of us, he's gonna be unstoppable.

Every hood in the city is gonna be howling to join his push.

Bruhn is changing the rules. We gotta change with it.

How?

You said a private meeting of important personages,

so what the fuck is she doing here?!

We gotta put bad blood aside.

Look, I know it's toilsome, but we've got a common problem here.

There's only one thing common in here.

Right. So, Bruhn's the problem, we kill the slasher.

Problem solved. Couple bullets...

What?

You wanna bring every copper in Sydney down on us?

They got a thing about murders. They hang you for it.

Oh, maybe you could pull the trigger, do us all a favour.

Mrs Leigh does have a point.

Look, we're all suffering the slings and arrows

of an outrageous loss of fortune, thanks to this Bruhn.

Your customers are only going to stay away in more droves

if they think they're gonna meet their maker if they come up this way.

Got an idea, do you, Jeffs? Scare him off.

Shoot him in the knee.

Both knees.

Then we drive him to a railway station,

put a sign round his neck - 'Return to Melbourne'.

Just kill him.

It's for the best.

Jim? They got a point, Till.

Our boy Frank Green will do the shooting.

What, the Little Gunman?

I hear he's tops against chandeliers, not so flash against the living.

Anything we suggest, she pooh-poohs!

My boy Greg Gaffney's your bloke.

He's got guts.

Spends his time carousing at your depraved groggeries.

You ever heard of pots and Kettles?

It really upsets me to be in your proximity.

It took a while, but eventually the council of war

thrashed out a plan to kneecap Norman.

Big Jim Devine would choose the gun,

Kate Leigh would provide the gunman

and Phil Jeffs' boys, the Kelly brothers,

they were to be the backup plan.

Norman Bruhn was problem solved.

But then Tilly Devine went home,

hatched her own grand plan

and kept it all to herself

You want me to shoot Norman Bruhn?

Yeah.

Do the job Kate Leigh's too chicken to see done proper.

Kill him, eh?

Jeez, oh, yeah. Sure thing.

I'm your gunman.

I can do it.

Do it like that.

You'd pay me, right?

Thir..

20 quid.

But didn't Jim agree to just nobble him?

Ah, Jimmy's not thinking straight.

Soon as he sees the headline 'Bruhn Dead', he'll know my way was best.

You the gunman or aren't you, Frankie?

You want the street chiming Greg Gaffney's name?

You want him called the Gunmen or you?

I'll fix him for you, Tilly.

No sheilas in here, love.

Can I please have a sherry?

Alright, just this once.

You don't need that.

Pretty as a picture already.

You're going to get me into trouble, Little Gunman.

Buy you all this, did he?

You know he's married.

Couple of kids.

I don't know what you see in him.

He's old and he's from Melbourne. He's the best.

He's the best.

Not going to happen, Frank.

Nellie, Nellie.

I'll pay you.

Dan has the bag.

Ned is a big man.

He is by him.

Baby Ray has a dog.

The dog is little.

Good boy, Keithy.

You need a shave.

Nell has the doll on her lap.

She will put her doll in the cot.

Where'd you get that?

Working.

Good girl.

Sometimes Wal gets lucky,

but more often than not it's just her and her pug-ugly daughter.

K- K-Katie's ripe for the pickin'.

But pick our moment, blow the door.

Scare the daylights out of her livin" tits.

She'll think her number's up.

I like my idea better.

Just kill Kate and Tilly.

You need me to spell it out for you again, Snow?

You need me to remind you how well known Kate and Tilly are?

How killing 'em would be the act

of a short-sighted galoot who didn't value his neck?

You not got that?

I got it.

Are you sure?

Seems there's an itch in your daks you're just longin" to scratch.

I'm sweet.

You're the one lettin" the beer go warm.

Snowy Cutmore had yet another plan.

He was going to kill his boss and take over the gang.

But he'd have to join a queue of people

wanting to do Norman Bruhn harm that night.

Give him a packarding from me.

Let's go.

And it was a long queue.

Rest when the job's done.

What's going on?

Nothing.

What, are you still dirty about Kate Leigh?

The woman just raised her voice and you keeled over...

It was the right way to handle Bruhn and you know it!

Just trying to keep the cops off our backs.

You and me'll swing past Leigh's joint.

Whatever you say, Norm.

Meet up later.

Come on, Georgie Porgie.

How come you get a boozer nickname like Razor Jack

and I get Georgie Porgie?

Oi, Grandpa.

Mack's Cafe, mate.

isn't that Kate Leigh?

That was Leigh.

Get our cut from Mack's first, eh?

She'll keep.

You're the boss.

Ah, you gents be wanting me further?

Yeah, wait here.

I'm the Gunmen.

I'm the Gunmen.

I'm the Gunmen.

You gents need a cab? You best push off, mate.

Free world, isn't it?

Push off.

I'm the Gunmen.

Who the bloody hell's that?

What the hell?

Who's that?

That's Bruhn

Help.

I've been shot.

Let's go. You'll be right, mate.

Mr Bruhn?

Inspector Mackay.

You remember me?

I won't shelf anyone.

Oh, come on, Norman.

Who shot you?

I won't be a copper.

You got nothing to lose, mate.

Do the right thing.

Fuck... off.

Mr Bruhn... No, you heard him.

My husband's got nothing to say.

Don't leave me.

Ma'am.

Mrs Bruhn, my condolences.

Did he say anything? Did he tell you who shot him?

No, he didn't.

And I wouldn't tell you if he had.

He's dead?

That wasn't the plan. Yeah, it wasn't me, Kate.

I never even got the chance. Well, who? Hmm?

Who killed him?

We only caught a glimpse.

I think it was Frank Green.

Tilly fucking Devine.

I had the guts to do it! Fucking pussy!

I had the guts to do it!

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