CONCRETE JUNGLE (PILOT) Written by: DAVID MICHAEL KUSHNER Based on true events ii. Democracy will not come Today, this year Nor ever Through compromise and fear. I have as much right As the other fellow has To stand On my two feet And own the land. I tire so of hearing people say, Let things take their course. Tomorrow is another day. I do not need freedom when I’m dead. I cannot live on tomorrow’s bread. Freedom Is a strong seed Planted In a great need. I live here, too. I want freedom Just as you. ~ Langston Hughes OVER BLACK: A WOMAN SCREAMING... GLASS SHATTERING... INT. LIVING ROOM - HARLEM ROW HOME - NIGHT ...STEPHANIE ST. CLAIR a.k.a. “QUEENIE” (34, African- American, clad in a yellow net lace dress) crashes into a couch-side lamp, lands face-first on the wooden floor. SUPER: HARLEM, 1932 Queenie crawls for the front door, her forearms digging into shards of glass, trying her best to avoid dirty syringes. We see a wedding ring on her left hand. Her attacker -- husband DUKE DIXON (36, African-American, rotting away from heroin addiction) -- grabs Queenie by the back of the head, slams her nose into a floorboard. DUKE Three hundid dollas! Three hundid he woulda paid! He flips Queenie onto her stomach, whacks her across the jaw. A cracked tooth flies out of her mouth. QUEENIE This ain’t you, Duke...this is the dope talkin’... SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. QUEENIE (CONT’D) You runnin’ the numbers, you don’t need me to be no whore... DUKE You my wife! You be whatever I say you be! Queenie notices the metal lamp base nearby on the floor. She stretches her hand but the base is just out of reach. DUKE (CONT’D) Now you gon’ go down the block and you gon’ get me that money! Queenie extends her fingers, pulls the lamp base into her palm, and clobbers Duke over the head. Duke topples to the floor, his head gashed open. 2. Queenie grabs Duke’s wallet out of his trousers, dashes out the door... EXT. HARLEM ROW HOME - CONTINUOUS ...She hustles down the trash-covered sidewalk. Duke stumbles out of the home, grasping his bleeding head. DUKE Go on -- run! You’ll be back! Queenie forges ahead, never once looking back. EXT. HARLEM BUS STATION - LATER AFRICAN-AMERICANS are squeezed tight on a bus. The lettered sign above the front window reads “HARLEM TO ALABAMA”. INT. BUS - CONTINUOUS BUS DRIVER (African-American male, 50s) puts the gear shift in drive, starts to pull away. Queenie rushes alongside the bus, taps the glass door. QUEENIE Wait! Please... wait! Bus Driver grinds the bus to a halt, opens the door. BUS DRIVER Bus is full -- He registers shock at the sight of the battered Queenie. BUS DRIVER (CONT’D) Good lord, what happened to you, girl? QUEENIE I needa get on this bus, sir. BUS DRIVER What you need is a doctor. QUEENIE Please... I’ll pay double. Queenie withdraws crumpled dollar bills from Duke’s wallet. 3. BUS DRIVER Bus is full. But I can have the station phone the police. QUEENIE Police won’t do a damn thing! Please sir... I’m beggin’ you... Queenie looks over her shoulder, worried Duke will appear. HUSBAND (O.S.) She can sit with us. Bus Driver checks his rearview. A HUSBAND and WIFE (50s) shuffle over to provide a slim space for Queenie. Bus Driver waves Queenie onto the bus. She climbs the steps, offers the money. BUS DRIVER You hold on to that. Queenie thanks him with a nod, hustles to sit down beside the husband and wife. QUEENIE Thank you. WIFE Don’t you mention it, dear. The wife holds out a handkerchief for Queenie. She graciously accepts the hanky, wipes blood from her lip. INT. BUS - HOURS LATER Queenie sleeps soundly. She awakens to the bus screeching to a stop. There is an instant commotion -- concerned passengers standing, mumbling, peering outside. Queenie glances out the windows -- -- KU KLUX KLANSMEN surround the bus on a rural country road, lit torches raised in the night. SMASH. Two Molotov cocktails crash through the front window, igniting the driver and the entrance door. Passengers scream as smoke plumes spread through the bus. 4. Queenie runs for the back exit, tries to pry open the door but a wooden torch secures the handle. Queenie backs up, charges forward, shoulders the door. Won’t budge. She tries again -- BAM -- the door bursts open. QUEENIE (to the passengers) GO! GO! The coughing passengers hop out of the bus. Queenie covers her nose to avoid inhaling the smoke. After everyone has departed, Queenie exits into mass chaos -- EXT. BUS - CONTINUOUS -- Passengers are gunned down by Klansmen. Others are beaten with baseball bats. Queenie turns to run -- THWACK! -- she is knocked unconscious by the butt of a torch. DARKNESS. EXT. RURAL ROAD - LATER Queenie comes to, bent over a fallen log. A Klansman thrusts her from behind, his breathing heavy. Queenie tries to yell but her mouth is gagged. A guttural sound gets her attention. She looks up to find -- -- the husband and wife lynched from a nearby tree branch. Klansmen spectate from below. Finished his rape, the Klansman drags Queenie to the tree branch, wraps a rope around her neck. Queenie struggles mightily as the Klansmen hoist her up beside the husband and wife. She kicks her legs, trying desperately to free herself, but to no avail. Losing consciousness, the image of the Klansmen blurs. The Klansmen depart, leaving Queenie to die. Queenie exhales, her final breath. SILENCE. The branch snaps. Queenie crashes to the ground. Motionless. Queenie’s chest compresses as her lungs fill with oxygen. 5. She surveys her surroundings. Bullet-ridden corpses are strewn alongside the road. Bodies hang from branches. A fire devours the bus. Tears form in Queenie’s eyes. EXT. HARLEM STREET CORNER - NEXT MORNING Queenie hands Duke’s money to a MALE DRUG DEALER (African- American, 30s). Dealer gives her a brown paper bag. DRUG DEALER Sure ya can handle this? Queenie stares through him -- I CAN HANDLE IT. She trudges off down the street. EXT. HARLEM ROW HOME - LATER THAT MORNING Queenie returns to her home, heads up the steps. She takes a deep breath before opening the door. INT. HARLEM ROW HOME - CONTINUOUS Duke is passed out on the couch. When he hears Queenie enter, he awakens, anger rising in him as he springs to his feet. DUKE Told ya you’d be back. His rage subsides when he sees her holding the paper bag. DUKE (CONT’D) Even scored for me. That’s my woman. As he reaches for the paper bag -- -- BANG! The bag explodes into confetti. A bullet rips into Duke’s stomach. He collapses to the floor. His trembling hands grasp his bleeding belly. Queenie looks down at the dying Duke. A woman reborn. QUEENIE I ain’t nobody’s woman. SUPER OVER BLACK: CONCRETE JUNGLE 6. EXT. HARLEM STREETS - EVENING AFRICAN-AMERICAN ADULTS party in the streets, sharing bottles of liquor. Fireworks explode in the sky. SUPER: ONE YEAR LATER RADIO HOST (V.O.) ...and on this day, June 27th, 1933, the State of New York has officially ratified Congress’ Twenty-first Amendment of the United States Constitution, repealing Prohibition... WE DRIFT INTO A JAZZ CLUB, SIGN READS: “QUEENIE’S JAZZ CLUB”. INT. QUEENIE’S JAZZ CLUB - CONTINUOUS WE WEAVE THROUGH a crowd of AFRICAN-AMERICANS drinking spirits and dancing to a JAZZ BAND. RADIO HOST (V.O.) ...grab your favorite spirit, grab your favorite dance partner...and enjoy the night, New York City! WE ENTER A BACK OFFICE. INT. QUEENIE’S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS Clad in a fur-lined dress and cloche hat, Queenie sits at a desk, counts stacks of money. The wedding ring is no longer on her left hand. The radio host’s voice emits through an AIR CHIEF RADIO. RADIO HOST ...TONIGHT WE CELEBRATE! Jazz music blares from the speaker. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. Queenie locks the money in a floor safe. She walks to the door, checks the peephole, swings open the door to reveal -- -- ELLSWORTH “BUMPY” JOHNSON (35, African-American, he may not be the biggest man but he’s certainly the toughest, tweed flat cap, tailored three-piece pinstripe suit). Queenie returns to her seat, sips a whiskey neat. 7. QUEENIE I don’t see no sweat on that brow. Why ain’t you out there dancin’? BUMPY I get paid to protect you, not to do the jitterbug. QUEENIE You get paid to do what I tell you, and I told ya to take the night off. She raises the radio, blasting jazz throughout the room. QUEENIE (CONT’D) We celebratin’ the opening of Queenie’s! Three deep all night, Bumpy. Christmas come early! Bumpy shuts off the radio. BUMPY Not everyone’s in the giving spirit. Queenie furls her brow, her interest piqued. INT. QUEENIE’S JAZZ CLUB - BASEMENT - MINUTES LATER Bumpy leads Queenie down a creaky wooden staircase to a door guarded by a gargantuan AFRICAN-AMERICAN BOUNCER (20s). Bouncer immediately opens the door for Bumpy and Queenie. BOUNCER Madame St. Clair. INT. QUEENIE’S UNDERGROUND CASINO - CONTINUOUS Bumpy leads Queenie past AFRICAN-AMERICANS placing wagers on tables of roulette, blackjack and poker. Bumpy escorts Queenie down a dark rear hallway and into a furnace room. INT. FURNACE ROOM - CONTINUOUS Bumpy and Queenie enter. Bumpy shuts the door. 8. JEROME HOWARD (23, half-white half-black) stands in the corner, hands tied to a pipe above his head.