Bronx Tale Script
- You got the note?
- Yeah, right.
Nice and tight.
Two, three, four.
This is the Fordham section
of The Bronx: my home.
A world unto itself.
Any borough
is only 15 minutes away...
but they seem 3,000 miles away.
That's Mount Carmel Church.
The sound of the bells
filled the neighborhood.
It was 1960 and doo-wop
was the sound on the streets.
I felt like there was a doo-wop
group on every corner back then.
What a time it was.
The Yankees were playing the
Pirates in the World Series...
and Mickey Mantle
was like a god to me.
My dad and I would go to Yankee
Stadium and see the Yankees win.
That's the Chez Bippy,
where all the guys hung out.
I'll tell you about them later.
That's my building.
I live on the third floor.
East th Street.
There's my stoop.
On warm summer nights
all through the neighborhood...
you would hear young Italian men
romancing their women.
Hey, Marie!
- Get in the fucking car!
- No!
- Get in the car!
- Leave me alone.
- You know I love you.
- Yeah, bullshit.
Get in the fucking car!
And right there,
under that lamppost there...
stood the number-one man
in the neighborhood, Sonny.
Everybody loved Sonny
and treated him like a god.
And in my neighborhood,
he was a god.
I would sit on my stoop and
watch him, all day and night.
But he would never even
look at me.
Never, until one day.
- What do you want?
- You got room there for us?
You wish.
- Oh, shit!
- Let's go!
That's my dad, Lorenzo Anello.
His bus route was th Street.
I used to love riding with him.
That's me, Calogero,
at nine years old.
See you later, Pop.
Go right upstairs, son.
That's my mom, Rosina.
She met my dad at a dance.
They fell in love
and been together since.
You're always listening.
Take care of this fucking...
Come on.
NEXT
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