An elderly ex-serviceman and widower looks to avenge his best friend's murder by doling out his own form of justice.

Stretch: What do you want a gun for, brother?
Harry Brown: I want to shoot the pigeons... off my roof.
Harry Brown: I don't reckon you've got long. Seen that before. Gut wound. The slug's probably torn right through your liver. Mate of mine in Ulster got caught in sniper fire. Bullet blew his inside out. He screamed for a good 10 minutes. We couldn't send a medic in, the section was too hot. So we all took cover... and watched him die. I've never told that... to anyone... you should've called an ambulance... for the girl...
Frampton: It's not Northern Ireland Harry.
Harry Brown: No it's not. Those people were fighting for something; for a cause. To them out there, this is just entertainment.
Harry Brown: [On shooting a drug dealer whose gun jammed when he tried to kill him] You failed to maintain your weapon, sir.
Harry Brown: [looks at a young girl lying on the couch overdosing] Is... is she OK?
Stretch: She's having the time of her life!
[approaches Sharon]
Stretch: Ain't ya, baby? Ain't ya, Sharon?
[pause]
Stretch: Sharon?
[another pause]
Stretch: Sharo-
[screams]
Stretch: *SHARON*! SHARON, YOU *FUCK*!
Frampton: You were in the Marines?
Harry Brown: Yes. Long time ago.
Frampton: Is there anybody in the house?
Harry Brown: No. I am a widower. What happened?
Harry Brown: The marines were a lifetime ago. I was a different man then. When I met my Kath, I knew that all that stuff had to be locked away. I made the decision all those years ago. And I stuck to it.
Harry Brown: [Stretch's girlfriend starts overdosing from drugs while laying on the couch] Hey, are you sure she's OK? Maybe we should take her to the hospital?
Stretch: [defensive] What did you just say?
Harry Brown: Your girlfriend needs a doctor. Maybe you should call an ambulance...
Stretch: Ain't no fucking ambulance gonna come here, brother! Do you understand me?
Harry Brown: OK. OK, I'll- I'll mind my own business. All right?
Stretch: That's fine. She ain't your business. She's *my* business!
[pause]
Stretch: Now you pay for your gun and fuck off... before I hurt you!
[Stretch points his gun at Brown]
Harry Brown: [on shooting the first drug dealer] You should have called an ambulance... for the girl.
Noel Winters: Think you got rid of my old man?
D.S. Terry Hicock: Yeah.
Noel Winters: Well you haven't. He's still out there now, doing what he's always done. You know how? I *am* my old man.
Harry Brown: [discussing about his friend who was recently murdered] Bob Creswell; Big Scottish bloke. We were in the Marines together. If it hadn't have been for him, I wouldn't have met my Kath. It was a service dance, and Bob's dancing with this girl. And... I dunno, I... I see this... pretty pair of eyes... and I guess we just liked the look of each other, so... I cut in on Bob, and Kath and me, we spent the rest of the night dancing together.
Stretch: [points his gun at Brown] Look at me! Yeah...
[pause]
Stretch: Pigeons!
[tries to shoot Brown; his gun jams]
Stretch: [encouraging Brown to rape the unconscious girl on his couch] She likes to cuddle, this one. Wanna cuddle her? Do what you fucking want to her. She won't remember a thing!
[pause]
Stretch: What's the matter? Can't you get your cock hard anymore, old man?
[first lines]
Man1: Do you want it, fella, huh?
Man2: Yeah.
Man1: Because you wanted this yesterday, brother. You wanna do this shit?
Man2: Let's go.
Harry Brown: [to Stretch] You two are a right pair of cunts!
[last lines]
S.I. Childs: Crime in the Estate has declined by almost 30 percent. With continued help from the members of the community, we hope to eradicate the criminal element who have long since blighted the lives of the silent majority.