The Shawshank Redemption

If I Didn't Care

Mr. Dufresne,

describe the confrontation you had with your wife the night she was murdered.

It was very bitter.

She said she was glad I knew, that she hated all the sneaking around...

And she said she wanted a divorce in Reno.

What was your response?

I told her I would not grant one.

"I'll see you in hell before I see you in Reno."

Those were the words you used, Mr. Dufresne, according to your neighbors.

If they say so. I really don't remember. I was upset.

What happened after you argued with your wife?

She packed a bag.

She packed a bag to go and stay with... Mr. Quentin.

Glenn Quentin.

Golf pro at the Snowdon Hills Country Club.

The man you discovered was your wife's lover.

Did you follow her?

I went to a few bars first.

Later, I drove to his house to confront them.

They weren't home, so I...parked in the turnout,

and waited.

With what intention?

I'm not sure.

I was confused.

Drunk.

I think...mostly, I wanted to scare them.

When they arrived, you went up to the house and murdered them.

No. I was sobering up.

I got back in the car, and I drove home to sleep it off.

Along the way, I stopped, and I threw my gun into the Royal River.

I feel I've been very clear on this point.

Well, where I get hazy is where the cleaning woman shows up the following morning

and finds your wife in bed with her lover, riddled with.38 caliber bullets.

Now, does that strike you as a fantastic coincidence, Mr. Dufresne, or is it just me?

Yes, it does.

Yet you still maintain that you threw your gun into the river before the murders took place?

- That's very convenient. - It's the truth.

The police dragged that river for three days, and nary a gun was found.

So, there could be no comparison made between your gun

and the bullets taken from the bloodstained corpses of the victims.

And that also...

is very convenient.

Isn’t it, Mr. Dufresne?

Since I am innocent of this crime, sir,

I find it decidedly inconvenient that the gun was never found.

If I Didn't Care

Ladies and gentlemen, you've heard all the evidence.

We have the accused at the scene of the crime.

We have footprints, tire tracks,

bullets strewn on the ground which bear his fingerprints, a broken bourbon bottle,

likewise with fingerprints.

And most of all,

we have a beautiful young woman and her lover

lying dead in each other's arms.

They had sinned.

But was their crime so great as to merit a death sentence?

Now, while you think about that...

..think about this.

A revolver holds six bullets.

Not eight.

I submit that this was not a hot-blooded crime of passion.

That could be understood, if not condoned.

No. This was revenge...

of a much more brutal and cold-blooded nature. Consider this.

Four bullets per victim.

Not six shots fired, but eight.

That means that he fired the gun empty,

and then stopped to reload...

..so that he could shoot each of them again.

An extra bullet per lover.

Right in the head.

You strike me as a particularly icy and remorseless man, Mr. Dufresne.

It chills my blood just to look at you.

By the power vested in me by the state of Maine,

I hereby order you to serve two life sentences, back to back.

One for each of your victims. So be it.

Sit.

We see by your file you've served 20 years of a life sentence.

Yes, sir.

You feel you've been rehabilitated?

Oh, yes, sir. Absolutely, sir.

I mean, I learned my lesson.

I can honestly say...I'm a changed man.

I'm no longer a danger to society.

That's God's honest truth.

Hey, Red. How'd it go?

Same old shit. Different day.

Yeah. I know how you feel. I'm up for rejection next week.

Yeah, I got rejected last week.

It happens.

Hey, Red. Bump me a deck.

Get the fuck out of my face, will you, man? You've had five packs already.

- Four. - Five.

There must be a con like me in every prison in America.

I'm the guy who can get it for you.

Cigarettes, a bag of reefer - if that's your thing -

a bottle of brandy to celebrate your kid's high-school graduation.

Damn near anything, within reason.

Yes, sir. I'm a regular Sears and Roebuck.

So, when Andy Dufresne came to me in 1949

and asked me to smuggle Rita Hayworth into the prison for him,

I told him, "No problem."

Andy came to Shawshank Prison

in early 1947, for murdering his wife and the fella she was banging.

On the outside he had been vice-president of a large Portland bank.

Good work for a man as young as he was.

Hey, Red.

Do you speak English, butt steak? You follow this officer.

I haven't seen such a sorry-looking heap of m-m-maggot shit in all my life.

Hey, fish! Come over here.

Come on, fish.

Taking bets today, Red?

Smokes or coins? Better's choice.

Smokes. Put me down for two.

All right. Who's your horse?

That little sack of shit...eighth from the front.

He'll be first.

- Bullshit. I'll take that action. - Me too.

You're out some smokes, son. Let me tell you.

Heywood, you're so smart, you call it.

I'll take...t-t-the chubby fat-ass there.

The fifth one from the front. Put me down for a quarter deck.

Fresh fish!

Fresh fish today! We're reeling them in!

I must admit, I didn't think much of Andy, first time I laid eyes on him.

Looked like a stiff breeze would blow him over.

That was my first impression of the man.

What do you say, Red?

That tall drink of water with the silver spoon up his ass.

That guy? Never happen.

Ten cigarettes.

That's a rich bet.

All right. Who's gonna prove me wrong?

Heywood? Jigger?

Skeet?

Floyd?

Four brave souls.

Return to your cell blocks for evening count.

All prisoners return to your cell blocks.

Turn to the right. Eyes front.

This is Mr. Hadley. He's Captain of the Guards.

I'm Mr. Norton, the Warden.

You are convicted felons.

That's why they've sent you to me.

Rule number one:

No blasphemy.

I'll not have the Lord's name taken in vain in my prison.

The other rules...

you'll figure out as you go along.

Any questions?

When do we eat?

You eat when we say you eat!

You shit when we say you shit, and you piss when we say you piss.

You got that, you maggot-dick motherfucker?

Aarghh!

On your feet.

I believe in two things.

Discipline and the Bible.

Here you'll receive both.

Put your trust in the Lord.

Your ass belongs to me.

Welcome to Shawshank.

Unhook 'em.

Turn around.

That's enough.

Move to the end of the cage.

Turn around.

Delouse him.

Turn around.

Move out of the cage, go left. Pick up your clothes and Bible.

Next man up.

To the right. Right, right, right.

Left, left...

The first night's the toughest. No doubt about it.

They march you in, naked as the day you were born,

skin burning and half-blind from that delousing shit they throw on you.

And when they put you in that cell,

and those bars slam home...

that's when you know it's for real.

Old life blown away in the blink of an eye.

Nothing left,

but all the time in the world to think about it.

Most new fish come close to madness the first night.

Somebody always breaks down crying.

Happens every time.

The only question is:

Who's it gonna be?

It's as good a thing to bet on as any, I guess.

I had my money on Andy Dufresne.

Lights out!

I remember my first night.

Seems like a long time ago.

Yoo-hoo!

Hey, fish.

Fish, fish, fish, fish, fishy.

- Boy, are you scared of the dark? - You like it here, new fish?