The Commitments

Ha-ha!

I' AN right!

Tell us about the early days, Jimmy.

How did it ail begin?

Well, Terry, I was always in the music business,

but I was more on the sales side in those days.

Fuck off.

How are ya? Jimmy!

- Neil! - You got the video?

Yeah. Mississippi Burning, wasn't it?

Have you got any Hothouse Flowers?

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.

We'll take a short break here, but we'll be back,

so stay in the groove.

Gin and tonic okay?

Hi, Imelda, you're lookin' deadly!

What are you doin' here, Jimmy Rabbitte?

Friend of the band's.

You're sure no friend of my sister's!

From what I heard, the fella she's marrying hardly knows her.

Cheeky bastard!

I suppose you'll be next.

Why me? I'm not bleedin' pregnant!

-Imelda. - See ya, Jimmy.

Fuck off!

Well, I'm three months gone. It's a bit tight.

Oh, I can feel it!

You can feel it already?

That's great! Can you feel it?

Why do you want me to manage it?

Cos you know everything about music, Jimmy.

You had Frankie Goes To Hollywood's album before anyone heard of them.

And you were first to realize they were shite.

What's shite is what you were playin' up there.

We have to play that stuff for a wedding.

What do you call yourselves?

And And And.

And And fuckin' And?

Ray is thinkin' of putting an exclamation mark

after the second "And."

He says it'll look deadly on the posters.

You don't like it?

Do you think it should go at the end?

I think it should go up his arse.

We're not married to it.

Oh, no.

Dance, ya bastard!

Look at that idiot!

That idiot's singin' somethin' approximating music.

What are you saying, Jimmy? I mean, we need direction.

If I'm gonna be the manager, Ray's no longer in the band.

Why not?

I don't like him. I never have.

I hate him, to be honest with ya.

But he owns the synth.

No one uses synths anymore. It's back to basics.

Just as well, 'cause we've fuck-all else.

Jesus!

What the fuck is that?

It's me hanky.

Here you are, Imelda.

Thanks.

What are yous lookin' at?

Nothin'.

I'll have this washed for you, Jimmy.

That's okay.

Wash it? I'd fuckin' frame it!

What does she see in him, for Christ's sake?

He looks like he models fuckin' knittin' patterns!

Mothers love him.

Why? He's a prick!

He's a prick with a job.

There's a band, Free Beer. They always pull a big crowd.

I like A Flock of Budgies.

That's a stupid name.

It's better than bleedin' yours: Cosmic Lino.

It has to be "The" something.

All the best '60s bands were "The" somethings.

We could be The Northsiders.

Or The Liffey Lads?

How about The Fuckin' Idiots?

What kind of music are we goin' to be playin', Jimmy?

You're workin' class, right?

We would be if there was any work.

Your music should be about where you're from

and the sort of people you come from.

It should speak the language of the streets.

It should be about struggle and sex.

And I don't mean mushy shite about,

"I'll hold your hand and love you till the end 0' time."

I mean ridin', fuckin', tongues, gooters, boxes. The works!

Jesus! What kind of music says all that?

Soul.

Soul?

Soul! We're goin' to be playing Dublin Soul.

Dublin Soul.

Fuckin' deadly!

Dublin Soul, wha'?

Jimmy!

Dublin Soul!

- Are you Mr. Rabbitte? - Yeah.

I've come about the ad.

What ad?

The one in the paper.

"Have you got soul? If so..."

Ya have the wrong Rabbitte!

Can I have me paper back?

Fuck off!

Listen, Jimmy, I've more things to be doin' than ironing shirts

for you every day of the week.

There's more people in the house, you know.

What's this?

What's what?

"Have you got soul?

"If so, the world's hardest-working band is looking for you.

"Contact J Rabbitte. Rednecks and southsiders need not apply."

World's hardest-working band!

Was that someone about it?

Where are you goin'? You haven't finished your dinner.

Out.

Can I borrow your hairdryer?