Precious

Precious

Precious: Based on the Novel "Push" by Sapphire is a 2009 film about an overweight, illiterate teen, pregnant with her second child, who is invited to enroll in an alternative school in hopes that her life can head in a new direction.

Director(s): Lee Daniels
R (Restricted)
Year:
2009
110
10,365 Views

Mary:
‘’‘’’Take yo ass down to the welfare.’’’’’ Precious! [kicks something] DAMN IT! PRECIOUS! PRECIOUS! GET DOWN HERE, B*TCH! YOU BROUGHT THAT WHITE B*TCH UP IN MY HOUSE! YOU--WHY WOULD YOU BRING THAT B*TCH UP IN HERE?!

Precious:
I didn't bring her here.

Mary:
WELL, WHY THE F*** DID SHE RING MY BUZZA?! [silence] I can't hear you, Precious. Since you got so much motherfuckin' mouth, and you gon' bring a b*tch up in my house, WHY WOULD THAT B*TCH RING MY GODDAMN BUZZA?!

Precious:
I ain't tell her to come here!

Mary:
See, I-I-I think, right now, you feelin' like you're becomin' a grown woman. 'Cause that sh*t you pulled in the kitchen, I shoulda f***ed you up, but I let you walk away, and I let you come get yourself together. But, b*tch, I'm-a let you know, if you ever pull that sh*t on me again, that will be your last motherfuckin' day standin'. I promise you that. You gon' send a white b*tch to my motherfuckin' buzza, talkin' 'bout some higher education? You're a dummy, b*tch. You will never know sh*t. Don't nobody want you, don't nobody need you. You done f***ed around and f***ed my motherfuckin' man, and had two motherfuckin' children, and one of 'em is a Goddamn animal, runnin' 'round lookin' crazy as a motherfucka? B*tch, you know what? See, I think you-- I think you tryin' me. I think you really tryin' to f*** with me. You f***in' with my money, and you gon' stand up there and look down at me like you're a motherfuckin' woman? I'm-a show you what real women do, b*tch. See, you don't know what real motherfuckin' women do. Real motherfuckin' women sacrifice! I shoulda aborted your motherfuckin' ass, 'cause you ain't sh*t! I knew that the day the doctors put you in my Goddamn hand, you wasn't a Goddamn thing, and, you had that smirk on your face, b*tch? I'm-a-- Get it off your face! [throws a glass object at Precious, and it breaks] NOW SMILE ABOUT THAT! SMILE ABOUT THAT, YOU FAT BI--! [Precious kicks a slipper at Mary] B*tch, I'm-a-- [runs up to Precious] I'm-a kill you, b*tch! [Mary chases Precious up the stairs] F***!

Mary:
[voice breaking] I-I... I had a man, and I have a child...and I had to take care of both of 'em, okay? Did I want Carl...to touch my baby? Because I would lay my baby...I would lay her on the side of me, on this pillow...and it was...pink...and it had this little...white writin' on it, and it had her name...'cause she was precious. And I would lay my baby on that pillow, and Carl would be layin' on the other side... and then, we would, we would, uh, start doin' it, and he reached over...and he touched my baby. And I asked him...I said, "Carl, what are you doin'?" And he told me...to shut-- To shut my fat ass up, and it was good for her.

Mrs. Weiss:
And what did you do then?

Mary:
[voice breaking] I shut my fat ass up. And I don't want you to...sit there and judge me, Miss Weiss.

Mrs. Weiss:
[in disbelief] You shut up and you let him abuse your daughter?

Mary:
[voice breaking] I did not want him to abuse my daughter. I did not want him to hurt her.

Mrs. Weiss:
[overlapping Mary] But you allowed him to hurt her.

Mary:
[voice breaking] I did not want him to do nothin' to her. I wanted him to make love to me. That was my man. That was my f***in' man. That was my man, and he wanted my daughter. And that's why I hated her. Because my man, who was supposed to be loving me, who was supposed to be makin' love to me, was f***ing my baby. And she made him leave. She made him go away.

Mrs. Weiss:
So whose fault was that?

Mary:
[voice breaking] It's this b*tch's fault, because she let my man have her, and she didn't say nothin'. She didn't scream, she didn't do nothin'. So, those things that she told you I did to her? Who, who, who else was going to love me? Hmmm? Since you got your degree, and you know every f***in' thing, who was gonna love me? Who... who was gonna make me feel good, who was gonna touch me, and make me feel good late at night? And she made him go away. So... when you sit there, and you writin' them f***in' notes on your pad about who you think I am, and why I did it and all of that... because I didn't have a man.


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