Mississippi Burning (1988)
[Agent Monk has kidnapped the mayor]
Agent Monk: You. I'm gonna tell you a story. A kid named Homer Wilkes lives 30 miles north of here. He'd just taken his girlfriend home and was walking along the road. A truck pulls up beside him. Four white boys took him for a ride. Now Homer, he headn't done anything, except be a Negro. They took him to a shack, a regular old shack like this one. Then they took out a razor blade.
[shows him a razor blade]
Agent Monk: Ragged old razor blade, like this one. They pulled down his pants, they spread his legs, and they sliced off his scrotum.
[shows him a coffee cup]
Agent Monk: Then they put it in a coffee cup, like this one. Mayor, do you know how much you bleed when someone cuts off your balls?
[throws the cup at him]
Agent Monk: HUH! When they found Homer, he looked like he head been dipped in blood up to his waist. He was barely alive when they got him to the hospital, and he can barely walk now.
Mayor Tilman: Do you like baseball, do you, Anderson?
Anderson: Yeah, I do. You know, it's the only time when a black man can wave a stick at a white man and not start a riot.
Anderson: You know, if I were a Negro, I'd probably think the same way they do.
Ward: If you were a Negro, nobody would give a damn what you thought.
Mrs. Pell: It's not good for you to be here.
Agent Anderson: Why?
Mrs. Pell: It's ugly. This whole thing is so ugly. Have you any idea what it's like to live with all this? People look at us and only see bigots and racists. Hatred isn't something you're born with. It gets taught. At school, they said segregation what's said in the Bible... Genesis 9, Verse 27. At 7 years of age, you get told it enough times, you believe it. You believe the hatred. You live it... you breathe it. You marry it.
Eulogist: They want me to say, "Let us not forget that two white boys also died helping negros help themselves." They want me to say, "We mourn with the mothers of these two white boys." But the state of Mississippi won't even allow these white boys to be buried in the same cemetary as this
[points to coffin]
Eulogist: negro boy. I say, "I have no more love to give! I have only anger in my heart today, and I want you to be angry with me! That I am sick and I am tired, and I want you to be sick and tired with me! I-I-I am sick and tired of going to the funerals of black men who have been murdered by white men! And I-I am sick and tired of the people of this counrty who continue to allow these things to happen!" What is an unalienable right if you are a negro? What does it mean, Equal Treatment under the law? What-what does it mean, Liberty and justice for all? Now I say to these people, "Look at the face of this young man, and you will see the face of a black man. But if you look at the blood shed, it is red! It is like yours! It is JUST... LIKE... YOURS!"
Anderson: Where does it come from? All this hatred?
Anderson: You know, when I was a little boy, there was an old negro farmer that lived down the road from us, name of Monroe. And he was... well, I guess he was just a little luckier than my daddy was. He bought himself a mule. That was a big deal around that town. My daddy hated that mule, 'cause his friends were always kidding him that they saw Monroe out plowing with his new mule, and Monroe was going to rent another field now he had a mule. One morning, that mule showed up dead. They poisoned the water. After that, there wasn't any mention about that mule around my daddy. It just never came up. One time, we were driving down that road, and we passed Monroe's place and we saw it was empty. He just packed up and left, I guess, he must of went up north or something. I looked over at my daddy's face. I knew he done it. He saw that I knew. He was ashamed. I guess he *was* ashamed. He looked at me and said, "If you ain't better than a nigger, son, who are you better than?"
Ward: You think that's an excuse?
Anderson: No it's not an excuse. It's just a story about my daddy.
Ward: Where's that leave you?
Anderson: My old man was just so full of hate that he didn't know that bein' poor was what was killin' him.
Deputy Pell: You got no right to be here. This is a political meeting.
Ward: Doesn't smell that way to me, Deputy.
Deputy Pell: It's a damn political meeting, Hoover Boy.
Ward: Oh, it looks like a political meeting, but smells more like Klan to me... with or without the Halloween costumes.
Mayor Tilman: Fact is, we got two cultures down here: a white culture, and a colored culture. Now, that's the way it always has been, and that's the way it always will be.
Anderson: Rest of America don't see it that way, Mr. Mayor.
Sheriff Ray Stuckey: Rest of America don't mean jack shit. You in Mississippi now.
[the mayor has hung himself]
Agent Bird: I don't understand why he did it. He wasn't in on it. He wasn't even Klan.
Ward: Mr. Bird, he was guilty. Anyone's guilty who lets these things happens and pretends like it isn't. No, he was guilty all right. Just as guilty as the fanatics who pulled the trigger. Maybe we all are.
Ward: Just don't lose sight of whose rights are being violated!
Anderson: Don't put me on your perch, Mr. Ward.
Ward: Don't drag me into your gutter, Mr. Anderson!
Anderson: These people are crawling out of the SEWER, MR. WARD! Maybe the gutter's where we outta be!
Frank Bailey: Get this straight, you corn-holin' fucker. You tell your queer-ass nigger bosses that they ain't never gonna find those civil rightsers down here! So you might as well pack up and go back up North where you came from and...
[Anderson grabs his crotch hard, Bailey screams in pain]
Anderson: [while grabbing Bailey by the balls] Now get *this* straight, Shit-kicker! Don't you go confusin' me with some whole other body. You must have your brains in your *dick* if you think we're gonna just walk away from this. We're gonna stay 'till this gets done.
[after opening his coat and exposing his gun he turns to Deputy Pell]
Anderson: How 'bout you, Deputy. That gun of yours just for show or do you get to shoot people once in a while?
Anderson: [Releases his grip on Bailey, then takes a swig of beer] Thanks for the beer.
Mayor Tilman: You know what, Anderson? You're starting to get so far up my nose, I'm beginning to feel your boots on my chin!
Anderson: Down here they say rattlesnakes don't commit suicide.
Deputy Clinton Pell: You have to be a member to drink here.
Anderson: Member? A member of what?
Deputy Clinton Pell: Member of the social club.
Lester Cowans: [after the three civil rights workers are killed] You only left me a nigger, but at least I shot me a nigger.
Anderson: Make no mistake about it, Deputy. I'll cut your fucking head clean off and not give a shit how it reads in the report sheet!
[Anderson and Ward leave the house after talking with Deputy Clinton Pell and Mrs. Pell]
Ward: Tell me, Mr Anderson. How does a woman like that end up with...
Anderson: [nods toward the Pell house] With shithead in there? You know what these small towns are like. A girl spends all her time in high school lookin' for the guy she's gonna marry, and spends the rest of her life wonderin' why.
Ward: Something's wrong. He's too confident.
Anderson: Did you see the wedding photograph? His three pals, the ushers, had their thumbs hooked in their belts, with their three fingers pointing down.
Ward: So what is that? Some sort of Masonic thing?
Anderson: [holds up three fingers] No! "K-K-K."
Television Commentator: Your name, please.
Clayton Townley: Clayton Townley, local businessman.
Television Commentator: Are you, sir, a spokesman for the White Knights of the Ku Klux Klan?
Clayton Townley: I told you, I'm a businessman. I'm also a Mississippian, and an American! And I'm getting SICK and TIRED of the way us Mississippians are getting our views distorted by you newsmen and on the TV. So let's get this straight. We do NOT accept Jews, because they REJECT Christ! And their control over the International Banking Cartels are at the root of what we call Communism today. We do not accept Papists, because they bow to a Roman dictator! We do not accept Turks, Mongrels, Tartars, Orientals nor Negroes because we are here to protect Anglo-Saxon Democracy, and the American way!
Television Commentator: Thank you very much.
Clayton Townley: In the courts of Mississippi, they have been reminded, that they cannot, by force, turn our communities into replicas of their communities... communities in which negroes run riot, unrestrained and unpunished, as they do this summer in the streets of Harlem, or they do in the streets of Oakland, or they do in the STREETS OF CHICAGO!
[Ward stops Anderson from taking vigilante action against Pell]
Ward: We'll go after all of them. Together.
Anderson: You wouldn't know how!
Ward: You're going to *teach me* how.
Anderson: You don't have the GUTS!
Ward: Not only do I HAVE the guts I have the AUTHORITY!
Anderson: [after the altercation with Ward where Ward pulled his gun on Anderson] Do you think he would have shot me?
Agent Bird: Oh, yes sir.
Anderson: Ballsy little bastard, isn't he?
Anderson: [Anderson is in a barbershop, shaving Clinton's face with a razor blade and simultaneously interrogating him] This is tricky. They make it look so easy, don't they? I got a question for you, Clinton. You don't mind if I call you Clinton, do you? I feel like I know you so well. The way we have it, on the night of the murders... you made a short speech as the bulldozer buried the kids in the dam. How does Lester tell it? "Mississippi will be proud of you. You've struck a blow for the white man." Is that what you said, Clinton? Hm? Is that what you said? It must've been you... because Clayton Townley and Ray Stuckey, they were too smart to be there. And you was too stupid to think anybody'd remember what you had to say. But old Lester, he got a good memory.
[Anderson groans as he accidentally cuts Clinton with the razor blade]
Anderson: I'm sorry. I haven't done this for a long time. Did you make a speech the night that you beat up your wife, Clinton? Huh? Did ya? Did you strike a blow for the white man that night? Huh?
[Anderson lifts Clinton out of his barber chair and thrusts his face towards a mirror]
Anderson: You got a stupid smile. You know that, Pell?
[Anderson pushes Clinton's face right up against the mirror]
Anderson: Can you see it? Huh? Good!
[Anderson pulls Pell away from the mirror and throws him up against a wall]
Anderson: Did you smile when the bulldozer ran over the black kid's body? Did ya?
[Anderson pulls Clinton away from the wall and walks him towards a sink filled with water. Anderson then pushes Clinton's face into the water then quickly pulls him back out]
Anderson: Did you smile when the bodies were covered over? Did ya?
[Anderson throws Clinton towards a wall. Clinton hits the wall and falls to the ground]
Anderson: Get up here.
[Anderson pulls Clinton up off the ground]
Anderson: Come on. Get up! Did you smile that same stupid smile, huh?
[Anderson smacks Clinton in the face]
Anderson: Did ya? You...
[Anderson throws Clinton towards a line of chairs, knocking them over and landing on the ground]
Anderson: You... Did ya smile, Pell? Did ya smile? Huh? Did ya?
[Anderson pushes Clinton onto a barber chair and holds the razor blade to his face]
Anderson: Make no mistake about it, Deputy. I'll cut your fuckin' head off and not give a shit how it reads in the report sheet.
[Anderson walks away, leaving Clinton lying dazed and beaten in the spinning barber chair]
Ward: Some things are worth dying for.
Anderson: Down here, things are different; here, they believe that some things are worth killing for.
Mrs. Pell: You marry the first guy that makes you laugh.
Deputy Pell: Y'all think you can drive any ol' speed you want down here.
Goatee: You had us scared to death, man.
Deputy Pell: Don't you call me man, Jew boy!
Goatee: Yes, sir. What should I call you?
Deputy Pell: You don't call me nothing, nigger-loving Jew boy. You just listen.
Goatee: Yes, sir.
Frank Bailey: [sniffs Goatee] Hell! You even startin' to smell like a nigger, Jew boy.
Goatee: [to his passengers] Don't worry. We'll be all right.
Frank Bailey: Sure you will, nigger lover.
Floyd Swilley: He seen your face. That's not good him seein' your face.
Frank Bailey: Oh. It don't make no difference no more.
Frank Bailey: [after kicking Aaron to the ground] You've already been told once, nigger! And we're not gonna tell you again. If you go making any more trouble by squawking them boot lips off to any of those Federal men, then we sure as hell are gonna have to put you in the ground, boy. And that's without a pine box. Do you understand ME!
[kicks him again]
Anderson: Did you make a speech like that the night you beat your wife?
Mrs. Pell: If you're ever in Des Moines, don't send me a postcard.
[about the black passenger]
Lester Cowans: I didn't kill him, I only shot him in the ass.
Anderson: We know that. He was already dead when you put your slug in him. But your buddy sees it differently. He says it like YOU killed the kid. Now either you go on the record with us right now, or it'll be YOUR ass we're talking about, not just the black kid's!
Mayor Tilman: [talking to a reporter] If the entire Secret Service couldn't protect the President of the United States, how the HELL are *we* supposed to protect a few negroes! It is nothing more than some poor white trash drinking too much cheap alcohol. More likely paint thinner and snake juice because this state's as dry as a martini, and we've got the alcoholics to prove it.
Driver: Uh, oh.
Passenger: What is it?
Passenger: [seeing the car behind them] What do they want?
Driver: I don't know... just pass me... pass me...
Driver: [trying to identify the following car] Is it a cop?
Passenger: I can't see.
[they are hit from behind]
Driver: What the fuck are these jokers playin' at?
Rear passenger: Oh, they ain't playin', you better believe it.
[they are hit again]
Passenger: What're we gonna do?
Driver: I don't know... OK, hold on, you guys.
[he veers to a side road]
Passenger: There's a truck, too.
[the car behind them turns on its roof light]
Driver: Shit, it *is* a cop.
Passenger: Better stop.
Driver: OK, sit tight, you guys. Don't say anything; let me talk... All right? We'll be all right; just relax.
Ward: Good morning. My name is Allen Ward. I'm with the FBI.
Deputy Pell: [mockingly] Oooh. The Federal Bureau of Integration? In that getup, you ain't exactly undercover, are ya?
Clayton Townley: Alright, I just want to know one thing. Who the hell called this meeting?
Sheriff Ray Stuckey: We thought you did.
Lester Cowans: You mean you didn't set this up?
Clayton Townley: Of this group? Are you stupid?
[on killing African-Americans]
Frank Bailey: I wouldn't give it no more thought than wringing a cat's neck! And there ain't a court in Mississippi that'd convict me for it.
[the FBI saved Lester Cowans from a lynching]
Anderson: You're lucky we've been watching your ass, Lester.
Ward: If you go on the record, Mr. Cowans, we'll give you protection. If not...
Anderson: If not, they're going to kill you anyway.
Anderson: Oooh Lester, you need a toilet.
Deputy Pell: It's a goddamn political meeting, hoover boy.
Ward: Oh, it looks like a political meeting but it smells more like Klan to me, with or without the Halloween costumes.
[Clayton Townley is addressing a large audience at a night-time pro-white rally]
Clayton Townley: I love Mississippi.
Clayton Townley: THEY! They hate Mississippi! They hate us because we present a shining example of *successful* segregation. These Northern students, with their atheist, Communist bosses, that have come into our community with the wish to destroy us *this week*, have taken a terrible blow. *This week*, their cause has been crippled. *This week*, these federal policeman you see around here prying into our lives, violating out civil liberties have learned that they are powerless against us if every single Anglo-Saxon Christian one of us stands together!