The Rose

Rock 'n' roll!

I, uh - I got a -

a little song I want to sing to you...

that I learned when I was...

just so high.

It's - It was really the first...

blues I ever heard...

by this funny little man...

named Furry Lewis.

It went -

It went -

All right! Yeah!

Pass me them peanuts, would you, baby?

- They're cashews. - God, you know everything.

I need something new.

Uh-

I got no fuckin' life, Rudge.

I can't get laid.

Nobody wants me.

Uh-

Well, that ain't all. I can't do things half-assed anymore.

I gotta sound good. I got to sound great, and I don't.

It's nobody's fault, man. It's just...

I just got too much work.

We all work too hard, don't we, eh?

Sometimes in the morning, my pee is so tired...

I have to wake it up with vodka before it'll come out.

That's tired!

You listen to me.

I would like to have some time to myself before I kick off.

And after this Florida show, I am gonna take a year off.

- You come into an inheritance? - No, man.

- I can't dredge up the sincerity anymore. - Wrong.

- Don't tell me “wrong”! - Wrong, wrong, wrong!

I'm fucking running the Green Bay Packers here!

- You're giving me sandlot in Dixie! - I don't want a year off a year from now.

Jesus Christ! You've got 29 people working for you!

- I don't care. - Okay. You want out, eh?

Let's call in the dogs, then? Piss on the fire?

I taught you that.

I know you taught me that.

Three million dollars' worth of dates...

we're talking about canceling here.

This is a fucking business!

Like Chevrolet and Sara Lee.

This is no “You don't feel so good today.

Screw the promoters. Call off the tour. Take a nap.”

It's up against the wall now. And start shitting that art!

Don't anybody give me that “tired artiste” bullshit!

I'll give them two dozen badass lawyers to drive them crazy with!

And if anyone thinks I'm jiving...

just take a good look up here in my eyes.

Well...

I guess you told me.

Yeah.

Rose, you're one of the best singer ladies in

the history of the world, pure and simple.

Don't fuck it up.

Sweet cheeks.

Sweet cheeks.

Come on.

Sweet cheeks.

- Hey. - I'm so tired.

Hey.

Hey, you want to eat some Chinese?

All 900 million of 'em.

Rack jobbers rule.

Ready?

- “Yassir,” Mr. Rudge. - Ah.

Hop on the desk, then, eh? Send 'em in.

- Hey, come in. - Get out of the way.

Hold it a sec. Calm down.

Settle down. Listen. Quiet!

- Quiet! - How about some flesh?

Whoa. Eat your little heart out, Richard.

- Tell him, kid. - Rose, what have you been up to?

Same as everybody - hanging out, having a good time...

staying stoned, and getting laid!

Hey, ask about the advances for the Florida show.

Is that hometown concert really sold out?

We got four or five seats in the parking lot going for a bill apiece...

and after that, we're clean.

Rudge wants a roof over the place so he can hang 'em from the chandeliers.

We're taping it for our television special.

What network?

We got two of the networks fighting for it already.

I've sold it to 15 countries. I see a gross of four million.

And I do the singing. Me.

Rose, how do you feel about doing a concert back home?

I think it'll be nice. They're my own people.

I know them, they know me, they understand me...

- and / understand them. - You look tired, Rose.

Honey, if you had to work for a living, your ass would be draggin' too.

So after my hometown show...

I'm thinking about taking a year off.

"A year off"? What?

Sure, she's gonna take a year off.

The Virgin Mary's stepping off the bench to fill in for us.

Hold it! Hold it!

We got 20 minutes. Want to tell me who all these people are?

I want everybody that doesn't belong in this dressing room...

to get the hell out right now!

This is my family. This is my sister.

Let's go, honey. Out!

- You don't belong back here. - This is my sister.

- You too, Brunhilde. - They're all my blood.

Let's go. Out!

Come on. Can't you hear? Out!

You can party after the show. The band doesn't listen to me.

Nice big ones there. Save some for me sometime.

- Smells like jockstraps in here, y'all. - Mm-hmm.

- Danny, let me see the list. - Here.

- Let's cut “Fire Down Below.” - Come on. You always like that one!

Well, let's cut “Keep On Rockin”' then.

- Rose, the set's all right. - No, it damn well is not!

Rosie, all those tunes you sing wonderfully.

- If I want to cut a song, that's it! - Okay.

- Let's cut it. - Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I -

Hey, you're in good voice. The mama's in good voice, huh?

Here. Here.

That's for you, baby. That's a stopwatch.

I got 35 good minutes in me tonight.

When I start to sing, keep track of my time.

Don't let me go past 35 minutes...

or you'll hear from me, motherfucker!

That's a new one.

Rose! Rose! Rose! Rose! Rose!

This is your night, baby!

You own it! You own it.

Look out, New York!

Rose, I don't want you to say “motherfucker” tonight, all right?

There are important critics out there that we need, you hear?

There are cameras all over the place.

So please don't say “motherfucker,” all right?

- Okay. - Go get 'em, baby!

Ladies and gentlemen, the Rose.

Hiya, motherfuckers!