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Commitments The

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Yeah, my man!
All right!
I wanna tell you a story
Every man oughta know
If you want a little lovin'
You gotta start real slow
She's gonna love you tonight now
If you just treat her right now
Oh, squeeze her real gentle
You gotta make her feel good
Tell her that you love her
Like you know you should
Cos if you don't treat her right now
She won't love you tonight now
If you practise my method
Just as hard as you can
You're gonna get a reputation
As a lovin' man now
And you'll be glad every night
That you treated her right
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
All right!
In the town of Springhill, Nova Scotia
Down in the dark of a Cumberland mine
Tell us about the early days, Jimmy.|How did it all begin?
Well, Terry, I was always in the music|business, but more on the sales side.
Fuck off.
Don't want your kisses
That's for sure
I die each time
I hear this sound:
Here he comes
That's Cathy's clown
Here he comes
That's Cathy's clown
I have to write to say|that I won't be home
Any more
Cos something happened
To me
While I was drivin' home
And I'm not the same
Any more
Oh, I was only
Twenty-four hours from Tulsa
One day away from your arms
I saw a welcoming light
And I had to stop for the night
Said to the man at the railroad station
I want a ticket
Just for one
He said: Well, if you insist
Where you wanna go, miss?
Destination anywhere
- Jimmy! Jimmy! You got the video?|- Yeah. Mississippi Burning, wasn't it?
Have you got any Hothouse Flowers?
And this old world ain't got|no back door
Because I saw her today
I saw her face
It was a face I loved
And I knew
I had to run away-ay
And get down on my knees and pray-ay
That they'd go away
But still they begin
Those needles and pins, yeah
Because of all my pride
The tears I gotta hide
Right now-yeah!
Needles and pins, yeah
Needles and pins, yeah
Needles and pins
Needles and pins,|yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
We'll take a short break here,|but we'll be back,
so stay in the groove.
- Imelda, you're lookin' deadly!|- What are you doin' here?
- Friend of the band's.|- You're sure no friend o' me sister's!
The fella she's marrying|hardly knows her.
Cheeky bastard!
- You'll be next.|- Why me? I'm not bleedin' pregnant!
- Imelda.|- See yeh, 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 d'yeh want me to manage yis?|- Cos you know all about music, Jimmy.
You had Frankie Goes To Hollywood's|album before anyone else.
- You were first to realise they were shite.|- What's shite is what yous were playin'.
- We have to play that at weddings.|- What d'yeh call yourselves?
- And And And.|- And And fuckin' And?
Ray is thinkin' of an exclamation mark|after the second And.
- He says it'll look deadly on the posters.|- Yeh don't like it?
- D'yeh think it should go at the end?|- I think it should go up his arse.
We're not married to it.
Aah, no.
Dance, yeh bastard!
I've looked at the ocean
Tried hard to imagine
The way you felt the day you sailed
From Wester Ross to Nova Scotia!
We should have helped you
We should have told you
- Look at that eejit!|- That eejit's singin' somethin' like music.
Jimmy, we need direction.
If I'm the manager, Ray's not in the band.
- Why not?|- I don't like him. I never have.
- I hate him, to be honest with yeh.|- But he owns the synth.
No one uses synths any more.|It's back to basics.
Just as well, cos we've fuck-all else.
From Miami to...
- What the fuck is tha'?|- It's me hanky.
- Here yeh are, lmelda.|- Thanks.
What are yous lookin' at?
- I'll have this washed for yeh, Jimmy.|- That's OK.
Wash it? I'd fuckin' frame it!
What does she see in him? He looks like|he models fuckin' knittin' patterns!
- Mothers love him.|- Why? He's a prick!
He's a prick with a job.
That 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|Sixties bands were "The" somethings.
- We could be The Northsiders.|- Or The Liffey Lads?
How about The Fuckin' Eejits?
What kind of music are we|goin' to be playin', Jimmy?
- You're workin' class, right?|- Yeah, if there was any work.
Your music should be about|where you're 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 love you till the end o' time.
I mean ridin', fuckin', tongues,|gooters, boxes. The works!
Jaysis! What kind of music says all that?
Soul! We're goin' to be|playing Dublin soul.
Dublin soul.
Fuckin' deadly!
Dublin soul, wha'?
Dublin soul!
In a window pane
Do you remember
How sweet it used to be?
When we was together
Everything was so... grand
Now that we've parted
You know there's one thing
That I just can't stand
I can't stand the rain
- Are you Mr Rabbitte?|- Yeah.
- I've come about the ad.|- What ad?
The one in the paper.
"Have you got soul? If so..."
Yeh have the wrong Rabbitte!
Can I have me paper back?
Fuck off!
Jimmy, I've more things to be doin'|than ironing shirts for you every day!
- 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'? Finish your dinner.|- Out.
- Can I borrow your hairdryer?|- Go and shite!
- And leave my aftershave alone.|- Who was that at the door?
Some snotty-nosed fella|with a mouth organ.
- Yeh put an ad in the paper?|- I'm puttin' a band together.
D'yeh need a singer?
Wise men say
Only fools rush in
But I can't help
Falling in love
With you
- Like the river flows...|- Elvis is not soul.
Elvis is God!
I never pictured God|with a fat gut in a corset
singing "My Way" at Caesar's Palace!
Don't upset your father.
- Who are your influences?|- Uh... Barry Manilow.
- Who are your influences?|- Joan Baez... Joni Mitchell...
Bachman Turner Overdrive?
Spandau Ballet. Soft Cell.
Sinéad O'Connor.
It's a nice trip to a candy shop...
Hi, I've come about the audition.
Led Zeppelin.
Billy and The Bollix.
Well, the black folks are starvin'
And the white trash is carpin'
And the KKK's all over the TV
Blood on the mirror,|and there was blood on your face!
Look so good
I've really done my best
Powder, paint and lipstick
The latest Paris dress
Poppa, rumba, rumba,|hey, Poppa Joe, coconuts
Poppa Joe, hey, Poppa Joe
Yeah, hey... Poppa Joe
Why didn't you tell me|you were bored!
Why didn't you tell me|you were bored!
And still I dream he'll come to me
That we will live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
In the haze of a drunken hour
- But heaven knows I'm miserable now|- Yeah, I know how yeh feel.
Elvis was a Cajun
He had a Cajun heart
Had to move down to Memphis
- Cos that's where he got his start|- Fuckin' blasphemy! Elvis wasn't a Cajun!
All that time in Graceland|and in Vegas, where he got huge
What d'yeh play?
I used to play football at school.
I mean what instrument?
I don't.
So what are yeh doin' here?
Well, I saw everybody else linin' up,|so... I thought yeh were sellin' drugs.
Hey, lads. This is Dean Fay.
Howayeh? Outspan Foster.
Derek Scully.
His influences are Clarence Clemons|and the guy from Madness.
- That's a nice sax.|- I haven't had it long.
Me uncle gave it to me|when his lung collapsed.
- This the band, is it?|- Yeah.
Bet U2 are shittin' themselves.
- Still got blue suede shoes, Mr Rabbitte?|- Fuck off, carrot-head!
Who's sorry now?
Who's sorry now?
Any chance for me, lads?
In your wildest dreams, Jimmy,|did yeh ever think you'd be this big?
To be honest, Terry, I did.|Even in the early days.
As big as The Rolling Stones?
Who the fuck are they, Terry?
- Who's in there with yeh?|- I'm being interviewed on television!
It's Colonel Jimmy Rabbitte now, wha'?|Interviewed on television!
He's interviewing himself!
- Yeah?|- Jimmy, there's another one.
- I saw the ad.|- Did yeh?
- Yeah. I'm a singer.|- Is that right? Let's hear yeh, then.
- Here?|- Yeah.
- Can I come inside?|- No.
- In the hall, even?|- No.
I can't sing. Not out here.
Fair enough. See yeh.
OK. Thanks.
Only the lonely
Know the way I feel tonight
Only the lonely
Know this feeling ain't right
I can't play for yis cos me drum kit's|in the pawnshop. But I'm good.
- Who are your influences?|- Animal in the Muppets.
- I used to play in a band.|- What did they do?
- Depeche Mode. Aztec Camera.|- Fuckin' art-school stuff.
- The Beatles went to art school.|- So did Roxy Music, and you liked them.
It's who it's aimed at. Wankers with funny|haircuts and rich dads with fuck-all to do.
That sounds like me arse.
But I'm sure you're right, Jimmy.
- Me boss has a truck I can get the use of.|- Could be handy, Billy.
Might help till we get a tour bus.
Hey! There's lmelda Quirke!
Fuck! Do you know her?
- Yeah.|- She was in our school.
- Oh, look at that body! She is beautiful!|- She's a little ride, isn't she?
Yeh'd think she'd be in a cocktail bar|sippin' drinks with umbrellas.
She's almost too perfect.
You mean you'd stand a chance|if she had bandy legs and a hump?
When this band's happenin',|you'll be fightin' women off.
Ohh! Rock'n'roll!
- You won't get that with And And And.|- We told Ray we left the band.
- How did he take it?|- Not too bad.
- He said he was goin' solo.|- Doesn't have much bleedin' choice!
- Howyeh, Bernie.|- Howayeh, Jimmy?
- How's things?|- Shite.
Gis a bag o' chips, will yeh?
I like the hair. Are yeh growing out|the Sinéad O'Connor?
Fuck off!
- D'yeh wanna be in a band?|- Wha'?
- Back-up singer, like.|- Me?
Why not? You used to sing|in the church choir. Lovely voice!
Fuck off! D'yeh want salt an' vinegar?
I'm serious. On the Bible.|I'm puttin' a band together. I need singers.
I'll think about it.
- How much is that?|- 50p.
Are you still friendly|with that, uh... Imelda?
Imelda Quirke?
Imelda Quirke. Will you ask her as well?
Thanks. See yeh.
Jimmy? Me friend Natalie's|got a great voice.
Good. Bring her.|But don't forget lmelda.
- OK. See yeh, Jimmy.|- See yeh.
What the fuck do they want lmelda Quirke|for? Fuckin' tits and arse-that's it.
Anyone sittin' here?
Doesn't look like it.
- How's the soup?|- Poxy.
- Anything worth eatin'?|- It's all poxy.
Me name's Jimmy Rabbitte. I'm puttin'|a band together. I need a singer.
Yeah! I heard yeh.|You've a rare pair o' lungs.
- Where'd yeh hear me singin'?|- The Quirke wedding.
I was pissed out o' me brains.|I had 1 4 rum an' blacks.
- You got up and sang.|- I did?
No one told me.
Hey, you!
Hey, you!
That's enough!
Had to see if he could play before I paid.|I'll be back at the end o' the month.
- That's what they all say.|- I will!
It's me ma's.|She thinks I'm havin' it cleaned.
Oi! Ginger!
Shut the fuck up, will yeh!
I... I... I...
I can feel
I love you so
- Can you sing that sort o' stuff?|- I can sing anythin'.
It's not the singin'. It's how he does it.|The showmanship.
I'm not doin' that! I'd kneecap meself!
He's hurt, look. They're helpin' him off.
What'll they do now?|Bring on a substitute?
It's the act, lads. Watch.
- Five minutes, Jimmy.|- How are you, gorgeous?
Go an' shite!
That's what you've got to|measure up to, lads.
D'yeh not think, uh...
Well, like... maybe we're|a little white for that kind o' thing.
D'yeh not get it, lads?
The Irish are the blacks of Europe.|And Dubliners are the blacks of Ireland.
And the northside Dubliners|are the blacks of Dublin.
So say it once, say it loud:|I'm black an' I'm proud!
Now I know it's wrong
The things I ask you to do
But please believe me, darlin'
I don't mean to hurt you
But could you slip away
Without him knowin' you're gone?
Could you meet me somewhere?
Take my hand
You must be gettin' desperate. Wait till|you see the little bollix askin' for yeh.
Take my whole life too
One, two, cha-cha-cha
One, two, cha-cha-cha
One, two, cha-cha-cha
One, two, cha-cha-cha
God bless you, Brother Rabbitte.|Your band need a trumpet?
You're the same age as me da!
You may speak the truth.|But I'm 16 years younger than BB King.
- You've heard of BB King?|- I jammed with the man.
Piss off!
Leicester Mecca, 1972. Didn't give it me|best, though. Had a bit of a head cold.
What's your name, pal?
Joseph Fagan.
Joey "The Lips" Fagan.
And I'm Jimmy "The Bollix" Rabbitte!
I earned me name for me horn playin'.|What did you earn yours for?
- Don't get snotty with me, son.|- I get snotty with no man.
- You played with BB King?|- Among others, brother.
- Like?|- Have we got all day?
Screamin' Jay Hawkins. Martha Reeves.
Sam Cooke.
Poor Sam.
Otis Redding. May the Lord|have mercy on his sweet soul.
Joe Tex. The Four Tops. Stevie Wonder.
He was only 1 1. A pup.
- Wilson Pickett...|- Why are yeh in Dublin?
I'm tired of the road.|And me mammy isn't very well.
- Why would yeh want to join us?|- The Lord sent me
and the Lord blows my trumpet.
- What did Evel Knievel want?|- God sent him.
- What?|- God sent him.
On a fuckin' Suzuki?
He can play. That's for sure.
- The Lord doesn't like it if we whisper.|- Why? Is he deaf?
I didn't join this band to sing|Moon fuckin' River.
It's merely my favourite lip-loosener.
We'll be playin' soul.
See, the Lord told me the Irish brothers|needed some soul. Well, Ed Winchell,
a Baptist reverend on Lenox Avenue|in Harlem, told me.
But the Lord told him to tell me.
He said the Irish brothers wouldn't be|shootin' the arses off each other
if they had... soul.
I can't figure him out, Jimmy. He talks|like a priest and he's wearin' slippers!
He's played with all the greats.|Even The Beatles.
- The Beatles?|- Yeah.
All you need is love!
That was Joey.
- What's Steven Clifford doin' here? He's...|- What?
A medical student.|He's not like the rest of us.
Could be useful to have someone|that could bandage heads.
I'm worried about|the direction we're takin'.
Direction?! What magazines|you been readin', yeh tosser?
Look, with Joey and me,|we can touch greatness.
So if you want to be part of it, take in|the tea, and I'll bring in the Jaffa Cakes.
- It's the fuckin' Addams Family!|- The Addams Family!
Hold on, girls.|I think I've got a ladder in me tights.
Imelda! Come on!
Who the fuck will be lookin' at|your fuckin' thigh, yeh fuckin' eejit!
- Look at the size of that fuckin' doorknob!|- Fuckin' huge!
I hope some o' these fuckin' fellas|are gonna be rides.
- Are you sure this is the right place?|- I've never been here before!
- Who told yeh? It was Jimmy, was it?|- Fuck, I don't know.
Um... sorry. We were lookin' for a band.
Oh! That's my boy Joey's.|They're out the back.
Joey says no rehearsals till you get|friendly with your instruments.
- Friendly with mine already.|- Shut up, Declan.
Deco. If I'm gonna front the band,|I like the sound o' Deco.
Deco the bus conductor.|Is that top Deco or bottom Deco?
The only bollixin' thing that's important|is what this band's called.
Joey knows. Tell them.
We are...
We are...
At the end of the garden|you'll find a ladder.
- A ladder?|- Yes.
- Right. Thank you.|- You're welcome, girls.
- What are yeh gettin' us into, Bernie?|- Fuck off, Natalie! We've come this far!
Over here?
Over the top! Over the top!
I'm not goin' over the fuckin' ladder!|You're over the fuckin' ladder!
You know 'em. You go.
The Commitments?
- The Commitments?|- The Commitments?
It's a "The".
How do you spell it?
It's very good. It's a statement.
- I still like A Flock of Budgies.|- Fuck me!
I just seen lmelda Quirke's arse|comin' down a ladder!
Lads, you're lookin' at|The Commitmentettes.
The Commitment-tits, yeh mean!
Brilliant management, Brother Rabbitte.
Will they be dressed in black?
What are you bleedin' lookin' at?
Destination anywhere
East or west, I don't care
Destination anywhere
East or west, I don't care
Destination anywhere
East or west, I don't care
Destination anywhere
East or west, I don't care
From now on, I don't want you listenin'|to Guns N' Roses an' The Soup Dragons.
I want a strict diet of James Brown for|the growls, Otis Redding for the moans,
Smokey Robinson for the whines,|and Aretha for the whole lot put together.
- Jimmy says soul is sex.|- Dirty bastard!
I said the rhythm of soul|is the rhythm of ridin'.
You want us to sing as if|we were ridin'with someone?
You can practise with me.
I'd bite your bollix off, yeh spotty fuck!
- Might fancy that.|- Or make earrings out o' them!
Soul is the rhythm of sex.|Rhythm of the factory, too.
The working man's rhythm.|Sex and the factory.
Not in the factory I'm in.|Not much rhythm in guttin' fish!
Soul is the music that people understand.|It's basic and it's simple.
But it's somethin' else. Somethin' special.|Cos... cos it's honest.
It's honest. There's no fuckin' bullshit.
It says it straight from the heart.
There's lots of music yeh can get off on,|but... soul is more than that.
It takes yeh somewhere else. It grabs you|by the balls and lifts you above the shite.
Said to the man at the railroad station
I want a ticket
Just for one
He said: Well, if you insist
But where you wanna go, miss?
Destination anywhere
East or west, I don't care
You see, my baby don't|want me no more
And this old world ain't got
No back door
Howayeh, Duffy?
This is Jimmy.
- Glad that dog's got a muzzle.|- Have to. He keeps eatin' me bunnies.
- So you've got a band?|- Yeah.
I don't know why you bother. Everything's|shite since Roy Orbison died.
- What are yeh short of?|- I need a power amp, speakers, a desk,
an' a few bits and pieces.
It's all here in the... note.
That's no problem. How are yeh payin'?
I can give you 50 now,|some when we get the gear,
an' the rest when we do our first gig.
Most bands in Dublin don't last|more than one gig, son.
- D'yeh need anythin' else? Bit o' blow?|- No.
Oh, me ma would like one o' those things|that wakes you up with a cup o' tea.
Nowhere to run to, baby
Nowhere to hide
Got nowhere to run to, baby
Nowhere to hide
It's not love I'm runnin' from
Just the heartbreak I know will come
Cos I know you're no good for me
I'm black an' I'm proud.
Everywhere I go
Your face I see
Every step I take
You take with me, yeah
Each night as I sleep
Into my heart
You creep
I wake up feelin' sorry I met you
Hopin' soon that I'll forget you
When I look in the mirror
To comb my hair
I see your face just smilin' there, yeah
Nowhere to run to, baby
Nowhere to hide
Got nowhere to run to, baby
Nowhere to hide
I know you're no good for me
But you've become a part of me
- What? When can I stop?|- When your hand falls off.
How can I fight a love
That shouldn't be?
And it's... so deep
So dee-eep
Deep inside of me
My love's reachin' so high
- How's it goin', Cave?|- Howyeh, Jimmy.
- Long time no see.|- Long time no hear.
I can't get around it, no
Nowhere to run
Nowhere to hide
From you, baby
Just can't get away from you, baby
- Jesus, it's brilliant!|- Just leave it in the state you found it.
- How long's your boss away for?|- Only two months.
Unless he gets time off|for good behaviour.
Nowhere to run to, baby
Nowhere to hide
Got nowhere to run to, baby
Nowhere to hide
- Look at this place!|- The ceiling's beautiful!
- Pigeons and everything! Great(!)|- Lovely spot!
I haven't got any bleedin' cigarettes!
- Where'd you get this piano?|- It's me granny's.
- That was nice of her.|- She doesn't know I took it.
But she doesn't use|the front room very often.
Up! Up!
Lift it!
Two. Two.
Two! Two!
Two! Two! Two! Two!
- Where'd yeh get the gear?|- Don't ask.
Fuckin' rapid!
- Are yeh ready, Steven?|- Yeah, ready.
Two, two! One, two!
That's enough!
OK, Joey, we can't put this thing off|for ever. Let's get busy.
Mustang Sally, brothers and sisters. And|remember: Rome wasn't built in a day.
- Dublin was.|- In an hour!
One, two, three, four!
One, two!
Mustang Sally
Guess you better slow|that Mustang down
Mustang Sally now, baby
Guess you better slow|that Mustang down
Oooooh... ooh!
Well, I guess you gotta put|your flat feet on the ground
All you wanna do is ride around, Sally
Ride, Sally, ri...
Hold it, hold it.
Hold it!
Now, sisters, that's where you|all come in. Ride around, Sally.
Ride, Sally, ride
- Sorry.|- I'm scarlet!
All you wanna do is ride around, Sally
Ride, Sally, ride
All you wanna do is ride around, Sally
Roid, Sally, roid
Look, don't use your own accents.|It's ride, Sally, ride. Not roid, Sally, roid.
Ride, Sally, ride
From the top.
Mustang Sally
Guess you better slow|that Mustang down
Mustang Sally now, baby
- What were you playin'?|- C, F and G.
You weren't. It's not the chords, anyway.
- What are they, then?|- C, F, C, C.
- You'd look better without your glasses.|- I'm blind without my glasses.
So was Ray Charles.
Your drumming's coming along, Billy.|Have yeh been practising?
Me da's dead and|me brothers are younger.
So there's no one to tell me|to shut the fuck up.
Look at him!
- He eats like a pig.|- He's such a prick!
Hasn't got the voice of a prick, though.|Joey says it belongs to God.
God should ask for it back.
- I suppose Jimmy'll groom him.|- Teach him to use a knife and fork.
- Are you all choir girls, then?|- What if we are?
Well, you've got fair voices,|but you're not putting much of that into it.
Good Jaysis!
All mouth and bollix!
- I bet he's never done the business.|- I bet he does it every night.
Get me share.
That's why you don't play guitar. You've|lost the muscles in your right hand!
Are yeh doin' what I told you? Are you|thinkin' of that reed as a woman's nipple?
- I am, yeah.|- Do you mind me askin' who she is?
She lives across the street from me. But I|feel embarrassed. She's still at school.
Maybe you should set|your sights a little higher.
My trumpet was always Gina Lollobrigida.
- I've never heard of her.|- A fine woman!
I could try, uh... Kim Basinger.
Is she...?
Ohh! Yeah!
Pick a nipple and try it again.
One of these early mornings
Oh, I'm gonna be wipin'|your weepin' eyes
All you wanna do is ride around, Sally
Ride, Sally, ride
All you wanna do is ride around, Sally
Ride, Sally, ride
All you wanna do is ride around, Sally
Ride, Sally, ride
One of these early mornings
I'm gonna be wipin' your weepin' eyes
Oh, sweet ba-a-abe!
OK, everyone. We're gettin' there,|no question. Let's call it a night.
That was a load o' shite.
It was woeful,
but that boy can sing.
And it was a start. I believe in starts. Once|you have the start, the rest is inevitable.
All right, folks, we've done good work|tonight. Will you form a circle, please?
You too, Jimmy.
Come on, come on. Just form a circle.
Now, everybody turn right.
Now let's pat ourselves on|the back for a job well done!
Mr Rabbitte, you've been collecting|unemployment benefit for two years.
Are you telling me you can't get a job?
We're a Third World country.|What can yeh do?
- Jimmy! Howayeh?|- Dean! Didn't know you were on the dole.
- Three months now. How about yourself?|- Lost count. Yeh know how it is.
- See you at Joey's. Tuesday, is it?|- Yeah, Tuesday.
See yeh there.
Jimmy! It feels much better|bein' an unemployed musician
than an unemployed pipe fitter!
Check that horn.
Joey The Lips.
This is an all-star album. Very rare.
I'll get a pen, and then|I can autograph it for yis.
He's full of it.
Look, that's Joey there,|next to Otis Redding.
That could be anybody.|All yeh can see is the trumpet.
Look at this, then. "Trumpet, J Fagan."
- Ah, it's a very common name.|- Not in Detroit.
He's played with all the|greats, then? Your Joey?
Oh, yes, indeed.|He was in America for years!
But I'll tell you something that|nobody knows about my Joey.
Wherever he went, or wherever he played,
he always sent me a postcard.
Yeah, yeah
They say it's a man's world
Oh, but you can't prove that by me
Excuse me. Is this Bluebell Way?
No, this is Marigold.|Bluebell's over there an' to the left.
Show some respect for me
If you wanna do right...
- You're not takin' that into the lift?|- I have to. The stairs would kill him.
- Hello, Mrs McGloughlin. Is Bernie in?|- She is. Come on in, will yeh?
Close that door.
- Howyeh, Bernie.|- Howayeh, Jimmy?
If Jimmy wants tea,|you've to make it yourself.
Oh, I'm not bothered, thanks.
Move that washing|if yeh want to sit down.
Bernie, you've been missin' rehearsals.
You can see why! Me ma can't work -|she's about to drop another one.
Me da's in the fuckin' hospital.|I'm the only one bringin' any money in.
- It's tough, I know, but...|- What?
It's hard when only two|backup singers show up.
You're not dumpin' me.|I brought in the other two.
Or is that why yeh fuckin' asked me?
You've got the best voice|o' the three of yis!
Bollix! You just wanted to get|your paws on lmelda Quirke.
Watch the fuckin'...! Yeh fuckin' bollix,|yeh! Go and fuckin' play!
Look at the bloody mess yeh made!
Look, Jimmy, I'll catch up.|I need this band more than any of us.
I need somethin' to look forward to.
A lot o' work.
If you didn't do it for God,|who would you do it for?
- Steven!|- Jimmy. Father Molloy will be here soon.
- Great sound, wha'?|- Yeah.
I wish my granny had|one of these we could borrow.
- Great intro, uh?|- They nicked it from Marvin Gaye.
He nicked it from Bach!
Ah, it's beautiful.
We skipped the light fantastic
Skipped the light fandango!
Turned cartwheels 'cross the floor
I was feeling kinda seasick
But the crowd called out for more
Poxiest bleedin' lyrics ever written.
One of sixteen vestal virgins leaving|for the coast. What's that mean?
I never understood that, either.
It's a very peculiar lyric.
Howayeh, Father?|Did you talk to the committee?
I have, and they've agreed in principle.
It would have to be the 28th|because Danny, our bingo caller,
is going into hospital to have|a tap put in his kidneys.
28th. No problem.
I'm sure you'll blow their minds, Jimmy!
Look here, girls. Take this advice.|And remember always in life:
Into each heart
Some tears must fall
Though you love and lose
You must stand tall
Cos... we've all got to cry sometimes
Yeah, yeah, yeah
- I said sigh sometimes|- Yeah, yeah, yeah
- Pull yourself together|- Yeah, yeah, yeah
No use crying for ever
Because there's
Too many fish in the sea
Too many fish in the sea
I said there's short ones
Tall ones
Too many fish in the sea
You're supposed to come in.
All right, we'll take a break.|You're gettin' there, girls.
It's not just how you sing, it's how|you move. You're sex machines.
My ma would crease me|if she thought I was a sex machine!
- Greg wouldn't complain, would he!|- Piss off, you!
- Whose turn is it to get the hamburgers?|- Sweet child, it'll be my pleasure.
I'll come with yeh, Joey.
- If they're singin', what am I to do?|- Play with yourself!
Sing along.|You've bigger tits than all o' them.
Fuck you!
Oh, Jaysis!
- Here.|- What are you starin' at?
Nothin', Joey.
You fairly ruffled my savoir-faire|there, Dean, my man.
- I thought you were goin' for the burgers.|- I am gone, Dean.
You're gonna want my love someday
Well-a bye, bye, baby
- You've organised a gig?|- Yeah.
- Where?|- Community centre.
That's a desperate place! Full of old-age|pensioners learnin' ballroom dancin'!
- It's a room with a stage.|- How much will it cost?
Nothin'. We told Father Molloy|it's part of his anti-heroin campaign.
I can get my little brother to do a poster.
The 28th is no time away.
We've two songs.|All we need is another ten.
You'll never believe what I just seen!|Joey and Natalie gettin' it off on the stairs!
- I'm tellin' the truth!|- Knob off! What if she was?
- It's Natalie's business!|- Tongues, was it?
- Yeah!|- He's got terrible breath!
- Lads, it's a free country.|- But he's old and he's ugly.
You're young and you're uglier.
You'd get off with Joan Collins|quick enough, and she's 50!
And you'd do it with Tina Turner,|and she's a granny!
Joey's not married, so fair fucks to him.
Yous are all so fuckin' stupid!|Natalie got off with him!
- Then she's a slut.|- Fuck you, yeh fat fucker!
Me knee! Ohh, Jaysis!
OK. Let's have a look at it.
Hey, that's really good!|But there's only one E in heroin.
- Wha'?|- There's no E at the end of heroin.
You little bollix!|There's only one E in heroin!
- No, there isn't.|- Yes, there is!
- The syringe is good, though.|- No one round here can spell.
Today, St Bridget's Community Centre.
Tomorrow... oblivion.
Where's Oblivion?
Jimmy! Jimmy! Mickah Wallace|wants to see yeh. He's in the pub.
- Mickah Wallace?!|- I hired him to do the door. Security.
- You're mad, Jimmy! He's a savage!|- I know he is. But he's our savage.
- He'll fuck off with the money!|- Shh! Dean!
Sorry, Father.
One! Two!
One! Two! Testin'!
One! Two! Testin'!
One! Two! Testin'!
One! Two! Testin'!
That's a good strong mike, that.|Quality's very rare these days.
Are yeh sure now? Two pounds to|come in. Half-price to the unwaged.
Got it.
Ben Nevis on the stand side! Come on,|Ben Nevis! Lester's out the saddle!
Shit! He's just fallen and croaked.|And now I want to sing for yis.
Tell me why I don't like Mondays!
Tell me why I don't like Mondays!
- I've a bugle here you can blow on.|- I've an arse here you can kiss!
Where's me knob? I know I tucked it|into me sock before I came out!
- I can't get this hair to stay down.|- These suits are a waste o' money.
- He's upset cos it hides his tattoos.|- All Motown brothers wore suits.
Neat. Dignified.
You'll play better in your suit.
- But I can't lift me sax in this jacket.|- Swap it with Outspan, then.
- D'yeh mind?|- No.
Fuckin' monkey suit.|I haven't worn one since that weddin'.
- I puked on mine. Remember?|- Remember? Some of it got on me.
Are yeh decent? We're comin' out!
I didn't recognise meself!
I hope I don't need a piss in this dress.|I'd never get it back on again!
There'd be plenty of volunteers to help!
Will they be eatin' chips|out of our knickers?
I wouldn't say no!
It's £2.
Howyeh doin', Mrs Foster?|Outspan's up on the stage.
Any messin' and I'll kill yeh, right?
- What's wrong?|- He's bein' sick!
Don't be nervous. Don't be nervous.|Come on. It'll be all right.
Sweet Jaysis!|She promised me she wouldn't come!
- Who?|- Me ma!
- I'm not goin' on.|- Go and find Mickah. He'll get him on.
My ma would beat the shite|out o' Mickah Wallace any day!
Shh! Shut the fuck up!
Ladies and gentlemen...
Put your working-class hands together|for the saviours of soul,
the hardest-working band|in the world! Yes! Yes, yes!
The Commitments!
Wrong rope, Brother Rabbitte.
Ladies and gentlemen,|The Commitments!
Get the fuck off!
- Hurry up!|- Who said that?
Brother Billy.
- Wha'?|- When you're ready.
Oh, shit! Yeah.
If I catch you messin', you're out!
They call me Mr Pitiful
Baby, that's my name
They call me Mr Pitiful
That's how I got my fame
But nobody seems to understand now
What makes a man feel so blue
Ohh, they call me Mr Pitiful
Cos I lost someone just like you
They call me Mr Pitiful
Most everybody knows now
They call me Mr Pitiful
Most every place I go now
But nobody seems to understand now
What makes a man|sing such a sad song
Ohh, when he lost everything
When he lost everything
Hello, Dublin!
I hope yous like me group!
- Fuck off!|- Yeh prick!
How can I explain to you
Somebody actin' so very blue?
How can I tell you about my thing?
Oh, nothin' to do
Mr Pitiful!
- You'll apologise to the girls!|- We're not your bleedin' group!
Come on, get it back! Get it back!
Fuckin' bastard!
Cos nobody seems to understand now
What makes a man|sing such a sad song
Oh, when he lost everythin'
When he lost everythin'
Your love was
Sweeter than
Any I know
Don't come back
Runnin' or
Knockin' on my front door
Well, you said that I
Was your only girl
There ain't no other
Do-do, do-do
In the whole wide world
Do-do, do-do
You know you took my love
Threw it away
You're gonna want my love someday
Well-a bye bye, baby
Bye bye, bye bye
Goodbye, goodbye, baby
Bye bye
Bye bye bye, baby
Bye bye, baby
Goodbye, goodbye
Bye bye, baby
Bye bye, bye bye
Bye bye
Well, goo-ood-bye now
- Mam says to give us some money.|- For what?
- Crisps and Cokes.|- Are yeh stayin' over there?
Yeah. They're great.
- You're jokin'!|- No! They're really good!
Are yeh serious?
Ow! Jesus Christ, Tommy!|Me fuckin' head!
- Here. How much do yeh want?|- A pound.
For crisps and Coke?
Go on.
Aaahh, show me a man|that's got a good woman
Show me
Show me a man out there|who's got a good woman
Show me
Show me a man that's|got a good woman
Show me a man that's|got a good woman
Show me a man that's|got a good woman
Show me a man that's|got a good woman!
Show me a man that's|got a good woman
I'll show you a man that|goes to work hummin'
You know he's got|some sweet lovin' comin'
At the end of his workin' day
Show me a woman|that's got a good man
Show me
I wanna see a woman out there|claims she's got a good man
Show me
Show me a woman|that's got a good man
Show me a woman|that's got a good man
Show me a woman|that's got a good man
Show me a woman|that's got a good man!
Don't touch him!
Get an ambulance, quick!
- Fuckin' eejit!|- We want more! We want more!
- If Derek dies, we'll be famous.|- What are you on about?
It's a sure way to get famous.|Die on a stage... Get shot in a motel...
- We'd sell millions of records.|- I don't understand what happened.
You have to keep the juice from|the amps and the mikes separate.
Derek was the earth there for a minute.
- Isn't that how the guy from AC/DC died?|- No. He choked on his own vomit.
- So did your man from Free, didn't he?|- Yeah. Lots o' them.
- Keith Moon.|- Jimi Hendrix.
- Brian Jones.|- No, he drowned.
- Did he?|- Yeah.
- Mama Cass?|- That was vomit.
- Not a heart attack?|- No.
Maybe we could get Deco|to choke on his own vomit!
Lads, it's alive!
Derek! Howayeh doin'!
They don't get many electrocutions|on Saturday night.
It's mostly bottles in the face|and bruised balls.
They said it was a mild shock.|Didn't feel mild to me.
- Made me hair stand on end.|- Your hair always stands on end.
Not fuckin' all of it!
- See yeh, Derek.|- See yeh.
Bye now.
- Rehearsal's tomorrow night, all right?|- OK!
We need a year's rehearsal.|We're all over the place.
It was raw, sure. But there was|moments where you were cookin'.
It was only kids and relatives.
What are yeh sayin'?|One gig and we pack it in?
Why d'yis want to be in a band?|Is it the money?
- What money?|- So it's the chicks.
- No.|- Why, then?
- It's hard to say.|- You want to be different.
You want to stand out from the rest o' the|tossers. You want to get up and shout:
"I'm Derek fuckin' Scully|and I'm not a tosser!" Isn't that it?
- That's it, Jimmy.|- Well, don't forget it!
Unless you want to spend the rest o' your|life wrappin' frozen fuckin' chickens!
Jimmy, did yeh ever have any doubts that|things wouldn't turn out as you planned?
Well, I'd be tellin' fibs if I didn't, Terry.
And there was that oul'|rock'n'roll demon, S-E-X.
Sex, Jimmy?
Sex, Terry.
- Sex?|- Fuck off! I'm being interviewed!
Guide of the wanderer here below
Come on, baby.
Don't get hung up on anythang.
Our signs have brought us|here together, woman.
You know
I wanna be your everythang.
Come on, baby!
Come see what I've got for you!
I wanna be
your lover-man.
Will yeh stop talkin' shite, Joey?
Who's the black private dick|that's a sex machine to all the chicks?
Damn right
- Can I have your autographs?|- Get lost, Tommy Boyle!
- I liked the light show at the end.|- Shag off!
The kids around here will be thinkin' of us|when they play with their willies!
Your Greg wasn't too happy.
I'd tell him to fuck off,|only me ma'd crease me.
- Dean's nice, wha'?|- I suppose so.
- He's serious. I like that.|- Got a nice little arse on him!
- Jimmy's nice.|- He's great.
- Always got a nice smell on him.|- D'yeh think he's a bit...
- Jaysis, no!|- He never seems to fancy any of us.
I'd have thought you'd find that a relief.
- When are yis playing next?|- That's up to our manager.
I feel like Madonna!
Ah, Jaysis!|Get him off the fuckin' drums!
Shut up, Deco!
Get the fuckin' hell out!
Doesn't take long to get|the hang of it, does it?
It takes control and skill,
so you're fucked for starters.
Fuckin' pig!
D'yeh know Wilson Pickett, Joey?
I jammed with the man. Many moons ago.
We'll be all right for|backstage passes, then. Look.
- "Pickett adds Ireland to European slate."|- Who's Wilson Pickett?
I'm gonna wait till the midnight hour!
You'll wait longer than that|to get near me, yeh fuckin' gobshite!
- Can I have a word, Jimmy?|- Sure. What is it?
- This gig on the 15th. I won't be here.|- What?!
I'll be on me holidays with Greg and|the family. We've got a caravan...
- A caravan?!|- I know. It's not very soul, is it?
It bleedin' isn't!
- It was arranged months ago.|- Months ago we didn't have this band!
Just gettin' goin' and you're pissin' off|to some tossin' campin' site!
- You're makin' me feel worse...|- I can't believe you, lmelda!
Ah, for Jaysis' sake, Jimmy!|What can I do?
Will yis all get on! It's not as if|yeh don't need the practice!
Hey there, here I am
I'm a man on the scene
I can give you what you want
But you got to come back with me
I forgot some good old lovin'
I got some in store
At least the little bollix is in key.
Boys were comin' down by the dozen
Jaysis, that's amazing!|You were actually in Graceland.
So, anyway, there's the four o' yis|sittin' in the front room o' the mansion.
Vernon wasn't drinkin' lemonade,|if yeh know what I'm sayin'.
- Who's Vernon?|- Elvis's da! Vernon Presley!
Go on, Joey.
He picked up Gina.
Gina's me trumpet.
- And he puked right into her.|- He didn't!
- Right into her.|- Good Jaysis!
I went upstairs...
I said "Yo! Elvis, me man. Look what|your daddy's after doin' to my trumpet."
- "Who's goin' to get her cleaned?"|- Hang on.
Get out!
I said get out!
- What did Elvis say, Joey?|- Listen to this. This bit's brilliant.
The man said nothin', at first.
He took Gina, very gently,
and he brought her into the bathroom|and he run her under the tap.
Then he took out his handkerchief|and he gave her a good wipe.
And he handed her back to me|and he said... he said...
"Joey The Lips,
please forgive my daddy."
Tell me something, Joey. In all the time|that you were in Graceland,
did you ever...
did yeh ever see Elvis|messin' around with drugs?
No, brother.
I knew it! I always said...! And you,|yeh malignant little bastard! I knew it!
My God Almighty!
Only the lonely
Know the way I feel tonight
Lorraine, I can't get your head in.|Everybody bunch up.
Come on, lmelda,|give us a smile! Cheese!
Get on with the photograph!
What are yeh takin' pictures for?|We're still in Dublin!
Cheese, everybody!
Here, let's get in out o' the cold.
- I'm not goin'.|- Wha'?
- I can't!|- What are yeh talkin' about?
It's that bloody group.|You're goin' with them, aren't yeh?
I have to!
What you have to do is go on holiday|with your folks and me.
- I'll follow yis tomorrow.|- You'll never find us!
Ah, Ma, you'll be in|the same field as last year!
- This stuff's so heavy!|- Would yeh give me a hand, Outspan?
Mickah! Would you get your man|off the piano here?
Would yeh get out o' the way there?
Hey! Yeh never told me it was the whole|bleedin' Philharmonic we were bookin'.
They're takin' up half the shaggin' pub!|I normally put 20 people in that corner.
20 leprechauns, maybe.
What happened to your holiday?
- What happened?|- I couldn't go.
- Jaysis, me hair's a state!|- Yeh look great!
There's no time to get me dress.
- I'll buy you a bloody dress!|- Oh, will yeh?
She can pay me later!
- Is he porkin' her now?|- He must be dippin' his dick in steroids!
I don't know why I love you like I do
After all these changes|that you put me through
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, yeah
Used all my money and my cigarettes
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, yeah
And I haven't seen hide|nor hair of you yet
I wanna know. Won't you tell me?
Won't you tell me?
I'd love to stay
Take me
Take me
Take me to the river
Take me to the river
And wash me down
Wash me down
Won't you cleanse my soul?
Oo-oo-ooh, my sou-ou-oul
Get my feet on the ground
On the ground, yeah
Hey, yeah
Hey, yeah, yeah, yeah
Hey, yeah, yeah
- Dip me in the water|- Dip me
Take me, take me to the river
- Dip me in the water, baby|- Dip me
Take me, take me to the river
- Dip me in the water|- Dip me
Take me, take me to the river
- Dip me in the water|- Dip me
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Dip me
Dip me
- Take me, take me to the river|- I said dip me one more time, baby
- You gotta dip me|- Take me, take me to the river, yeah
Dip me in the water, yeah...
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
- Fuckin' eejit!|- Sorry, Joey. I got a bit carried away.
And you, George Michael!|Call me a fuckin' eejit again
and you'll get a drumstick up your hole!|The one you don't sing out of!
That'll be the day!
It's comin', so keep your Vaseline handy.
Keep cool, brothers.|We are the saviours of soul, remember?
Come on, let's go!
Thank you, thank you.|Thank you. Thank you.
What I'd like to do for my fans now|is a nice slow song.
It goes a little bit like this.
At the dark end of the street
That is where we always meet
Hidin' in shadows|where we don't belong
Livin' in darkness to hide our wrong
You and me
At the dark end of the street
You and me
I know time is gonna take its toll
We have to pay for the love we stole
It's a sin and we know it's wrong
Ohh, but our love|keeps comin' on strong
Steal away
To the dark end of the street
You and me
They're gonna find us
They're gonna find us
They're gonna find us, love, someday
You and me
At the dark end of the street
You and me
And when the daylight hour rolls around
And by chance we'll both go downtown
If we should meet,|just walk, walk on by, yeah!
Ohh, darlin', please don't you cry
Tonight we'll meet
At the dark end
Of the street
It sounds good now. Good brass section.
I can give you what you want|but you gotta come back for more!
Fuck off, piss brain!
Are we in with a chance|now you're single, lmelda?
- Derek's pantin' to make his move!|- Shut up, yeh gobshite!
Derek, I thought it was me yeh fancied.
- You were havin' it off with Dean!|- Must've been when I wasn't lookin'!
- We're all bustin' to ride 'Melda.|- I've no designs on lmelda.
No, cos you're skewerin' Bernie,|and she's only half your age.
- Is he doin' it to Bernie?|- Sex, sex, sex! It fucks up everythin'!
You told us soul was sex.
Look, let's keep relations|on a professional basis.
Professional?! We've never been paid!
I'm workin' on it! I'm fuckin' workin' on it!
Why don't you learn|to keep your big mouth shut?
No fuckin' pay! Fuckin' crazy!
At the dark end of the street
You and me
- Are you all right?|- Sure. They just get up me arse at times.
Want to share a taxi home?
- For fuck sake! How can yeh ask me that!|- If yeh weren't the manager, would yeh?
- Would I what?|- Take me home.
But I am the manager.
You and me
At the dark end of the street
You and me
D'yeh not think it better to have|the Customs House in the background?
I'm not after a bleedin' postcard!|I'm after urban decay.
Where's Billy?|We're freezin' our tits off here.
- Are your nipples all hard?|- You make me want to vomit!
- Will this be in the papers?|- Could be.
Fame! I wanna live till Tuesday!
- What's this? Bingo callers' convention?|- Get him, Mickah!
- You're not even changed, Billy.|- There's no point. I'm leavin' the band.
It's Deco. I hate him!
He's not worth hatin'. He's just|a big fat boy with bollix for brains.
It's no use, Jimmy. I'm goin' to have to|hit him. And I'm on probation!
- Probation? What for?|- For hittin' a prick just like him.
Where will I get a drummer|as good as you?
Ah, you'll find someone.
Ah, thanks a lot!
You can have the loan of me kit|until you do.
Anyone can play the drums, Billy.|So fuck off!
Ah, Jimmy...
And we'll get our own tour bus with|"The Commitments" painted on the side.
And "Billy Mooney's a Fuckin' Bollix"|on the back!
Mind me van, yeh fucker!
OK, everyone, a big serious face now.|That's it. Great. OK.
Big cheesy smile!|Everyone say "testicles".
Fair enough. Great stuff.
Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.
It's been a month since|my last confession.
I've been with this band, and there's|been a lot of cursing and blasphemy.
And I've been neglecting my exams.
And there's these three girls|with the band.
I've had lustful thoughts.
About all of them.
And when I studied I used to sing hymns.
Now I'm always humming "When a Man|Loves a Woman" by Marvin Gaye.
- Percy Sledge.|- Wha'?
It was Percy Sledge did that|particular song. I have the album.
Saw the posters.|The band's playin' a few gigs?
A few, yeah.
So why haven't I been paid?
That was the deal.
I get you gear,
and you give me money.
I'll pay. It's just I've got|a few problems. Outgoings...
Yeah. Tell me about it.
And I'm breakin' in a new drummer.
I think I'm gettin' the hang o' this!
Here yeh are.
About bleedin' time!
Jimmy, do we have to do this?
- We've no choice, Bernie.|- What did yeh get a gig so far away for?
- Cos they're payin' us money, that's why.|- But I could go to jail! Or lose me job!
We are bringin' soul|to the people, my angel.
No jury in the land would convict us.
- Are we goin' in or wha'?|- If we're caught here, we're fucked.
It's all right! Don't be worryin'.
What's that? A Mister Chippy van?
- We can't travel in that shit heap.|- Buddy Holly's last words.
- "We can't travel in that shit heap."|- Did Buddy Holly say that?
Before he flew to meet his destiny|on that storm-tossed night.
Will crashin' in a chipper van|make us famous?
Said to the man at the railroad station
I want a ticket
Just for one
He said: Well, if you insist
Where you wanna go, miss?
Destination anywhere
East or west, I don't care
I have to fart.
- What?|- I have to fart!
Open a fuckin' window!
Would yeh have any|rock salmon, please?
Sorry, mister! We only have soul!
Said to the man at the railroad station
I want a ticket
Just for one
Baby, here I am
I'm a man on the scene
I can give you what you want
But you gotta come back with me
I forgot some good old lovin'
I got some in store
When it comes to takin' it all
You gotta come back for more
Boys were comin' down by the dozen
That ain't nothin' but drugstore lovin'
Pretty little thing,|let me light your candle
Cos, mama, I'm sure hard to handle now
Yes, I am
Action speaks louder than words
And I'm a man with a great experience
Oh, yeah?
I know you got you another man
But I can love you better than him
Says who?
Take my hand, don't be afraid
I'm gonna prove every word I said
No lie?
I'm advertisin' love for free
So won't you place your ad with me?
Boys were comin' down by the dozen
That ain't nothin' but drugstore lovin'
Pretty little thing,|let me light your candle
Cos, mama, I'm sure hard to handle now
Yes, I am
I went through hell learnin' the sax. Now I|wanna get better. I wanna express meself.
That's commendable, Brother Dean.|But what you were playin' was not soul.
Soul solos are part of the song.|They have corners.
- You were spiralling. That's jazz.|- I'm just tryin' to stretch meself.
Jazz is musical wankin'.
If you want a wank, use that|thing in your hand, not your sax!
Jimmy! Jimmy!
Over here!
There's your money, son.|They're drinkin' like fishes.
- That's 200 quid.|- 200 quid?
Big time, wha'? 200 quid!
Jimmy, this is Roddy Craig.|He's with The Herald.
- You got my message, then?|- Howayeh?
- Glad you could make it.|- So how did this band come about?
- Jimmy put an ad...|- Destiny! We're a band with a mission.
What kind of mission?
Bringin' soul to Dublin.|Bringin' the music to the proletariat.
We're against racial and sexual|discrimination, apartheid, and heroin.
- When's your next gig?|- We haven't...
We're the guerrillas of soul.|We don't announce gigs.
We hit, then we sink back|into the night.
That's guerrilla with a U, not an O.
Oh, yeah.
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Chain of fools
For five long years
I thought you were my man
But I found out
I'm just a link in your chain
You got me where you want me
I ain't nothin' but your fool
You treated me mean
You treated me cruel
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
Chain of fools
Every chain
Has got a weak link
I might be weak, child
But I gave you strength
Ooh! Ooh!
Now you tell me to leave you alone
My papa says come on home
My doctor says take it easy
But your lovin' is much too strong
I'm wedded to your
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
That's our money, pal!
Don't stop! Keep it goin'!
Chain, chain
Are yeh OK?
- You're fuckin' dead, Rabbitte!|- Still got the money, though.
I'll be fuckin' back for you an'|your fuckin' monkeys, yeh bastard!
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
I'd like to introduce you to|the hardest-workin' band in the world!
On bass, Derek "Meatman" Scully!
On piano, Steven "Soul Surgeon" Clifford!
Dean "Mr Nipple" Fay on sax!
Joey "The Lips" Fagan on trumpet!
Our gorgeous chanteuses are|Bernie, lmelda, and Natalie!
Deco "Deep Throat" Cuffe on vocals!
On lead guitar,|Outspan "Fender Bender" Foster!
Finally, on drums,|Mickah "Don't Fuck With Me" Wallace!
Ladies and gentlemen,|The Commitments!
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
I got dreams, dreams
To remember
To remember
I've been waitin' bleedin' ages!
- I don't suppose they'll let me park here.|- Fuck them. Listen to this.
"Following U2 and Sinéad O'Connor...
...The Commitments could be the next|major act to come out of Dublin."
"The lead singer has a voice|Bob Geldof would starve for."
U2, Sinéad, Geldof, and us|in one paragraph. Deadly, wha'?
- We'll show this to me mammy.|- We'll show it to Wilson Pickett.
I'd better handle this thing alone.
- Why? I want to meet the man.|- It's personal.
You told me him and you were friends|and he'd do us a favour.
I know, but the last time I met Wilson|things were a bit sticky.
It's personal.
Hold on to that. Keep an eye on the bike.
Ah, howayeh, Jimmy?
Your office said you were here.|What happened?
Two eejits tried to hold up|the bank with pump guns.
What's this? The getaway cart?
No, the poor horse|caught it in the crossfire.
- I thought you only covered music.|- Music, crime, funerals...
Are yeh goin' to the Wilson Pickett show?
Bleedin' right I am.
I owe you for the review. Fuckin' rapid!
Come to Gallagher's afterwards,|where we're playin'.
Oh, yeah. Right.
And Pickett's gonna jam with us!
- He is in his bollix!|- World exclusive, Roddy!
He thinks he's Basil Brush.
- Just fuckin' relax, would yeh?|- Fuckin' idiot!
This place is infested with rats!
You do look like a rat! Ratso Foster!
Oh, supercool!
- Where's your white walkin' stick?|- Fuck off!
Bring the guide dog, yeah? Lovely hair!
At least I have some fuckin' hair!
- Steven?|- Yeah?
- Could I talk to yeh?|- About what?
Well, you're educated, and...|I've had this offer, see?
It's from another band.|We reckon it could be a good move.
- "We"? You have advisors, is it?|- Well, me ma, like.
- What's this?|- Mr Cuffe has an offer he can't refuse.
Offer of wha'?
From another band with a record deal.
- You wha'?|- You're already in a band!
I've my career to think of!
- I have to do it!|- Wha'?
- Break his face!|- No, no, no!
Stop lookin' at me knickers, you!
I'm fuckin' warnin' yeh! You're dead, man!
- What's that?|- What's what?
- That.|- It's only a haircut.
That's a jazz haircut.|And why aren't yeh dressed?
- I'm gonna wear me new suit!|- And why aren't yous changed?
Nobody wants to wear|fuckin' monkey suits, Jimmy.
- Who wants to look like The Four Tops?|- More like fuckin' undertakers!
Look at this!
What the fuck...?!
What are yis all lookin' at?|He only gave me a ride!
- I'm sure he did!|- He shagged the lot o' them.
How are yeh, 'Melda?
- Jimmy, can I talk to yeh?|- Shut up, the lot o' yis! And you, Deco!
Someone comin' in tonight|could make a big difference to us.
- Batman? The Pope?|- Even better. Wilson Pickett.
- Fuck off!|- No, he isn't!
- Isn't that right, Joey?|- He promised me he's gonna jam with us.
- Me hole, he is!|- Yeh can wear jockstraps for all I care!
Just behave like yeh know|what you're doin'.
Wilson Pickett and Deco Cuffe,|together at last!
Ow! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Three Hail Marys for you tomorrow!
- Stop it! Stop it!|- Keep out o' this! Fuck off!
Mustang Sally
Guess you better slow|that Mustang down
Mustang Sally now, baby
Guess you better slow|that Mustang down
You been runnin' all over town
Ooh, I guess you gotta put|your flat feet on the ground
Sing it to me one more time, girls!
All you wanna do is ride around, Sally
Ride, Sally, ride
All you wanna do is ride around, Sally
Ride, Sally, ride
All you wanna do is ride around, Sally
Ride, Sally, ride
All you wanna do is ride around, Sally
Ride, Sally, ride
One of these early mornings
I'm gonna be wipin' those weepin' eyes
All right!
I bought you a brand-new Mustang
It was a 1965
Now you come around|signifying a woman
Girl, you won't... you won't... let me ride!
Mustang Sally now, baby
Sally now, baby
Tell me, Jimmy.
When would yeh think was the big|turning point for The Commitments?
Good question, Terry.
It has to be when Wilson Pickett|played with us in a small club in Dublin.
That must have been quite a thrill, Jimmy.
It will be if the fucker turns up, Terry.
Baby, they don't know
That I'd leave you if I could
I guess I'm all tied
And I'm stuck like glue
Cos I ain't never
I ain't never
I ain't never
No, no!
Loved a man the way that I
I love you
Some time ago I thought
Rum an' black, please.
I was so wrong
Because you've got one|you'll never lose
The way you treat me is a shame
How could you hurt me so bad?
Baby, don't you know
That I'm the best thing you ever had?
Kiss me once again
Don't you never, never say|that we're through
Cos I ain't never
I ain't never
I ain't never
No, no!
Loved a man
The way that I
I love you
Oh, I can't sleep at night
I can't eat a bite
Guess I'll never be free
Since you got
Your hook
In me
Oh, oh, oh
I ain't never loved a man, baby
- Jimmy! Dougie Best, Music Weekly.|- Thanks a lot for showin' up.
- Is Pickett still comin'?|- Absolutely. No question.
You told me I was goin' to be the only|press. See a fella from The Times there.
Dublin's a small town. Word gets out.|Yeh know what I'm sayin'?
Mm. Yeah.
How was it?
Yeah. All right.
OK. See yeh.
Oh, she may be weary
And young girls, they do get weary
Wearin' that same old shaggy dress
But when she gets weary
A little tenderness
You know she's waitin'
Just anticipatin'
The things
That she never, never
Never, never possesses
But while she's there waitin'
Without them
Try a little tenderness
That's all you gotta do
This is for you
It's not
Just sentimental
She has her grief and her cares
Ye-eah, yeah
But the soft words
They are spoke so gentle
It makes it easier
Easier to bear
You won't regret it, no, no
Young girls, they never forget it
Love is their only
But it's all so easy
All you gotta do
Is try a little tenderness
Oh, yeah, baby
Oh, yeah
Squeeze her
Don't you tease her
Never leave her
You got to
You got to
You got to
You got to
Try a little tenderness, yeah
Howayeh, Jimmy?|This is Eamon, me photographer.
Jaysis! Some rain, wha'?|Is Wilson here yet?
- No. What time did the show finish?|- Ah, it's over an hour already.
He'll be doin' all that backstage bullshit.
I thought he was supposed to be here.
Never leave her
You got to
You got
You got
Ye-ah, yeah
Oh, yeah
Ye-ah, yeah!
You got to
Squeeze her
Don't you tease her
Never leave her
You got to
Got to, got to, got to,|got to, got to, got to
Try a little tenderness
Oh, oh, oh
You got to, you got to squeeze her
Don't you tease her, man
Got to, got to, got to,|got to, got to, got to
Try a little tenderness
Oh, baby
Oh! Oh!
You've got to squeeze her
Never leave her
You got to
You got to
Got to, got to, got to, got to
Got to, got to
Try a little tenderness...!
Oh, yeah...!
You don't need a new amp, Outspan!
- Jimmy! Is Wilson back there?|- Not yet.
Where the fuck is he, then?
Wilson Pickett! Load o' bollix!
It's not, Jimmy, is it?|He will come, won't he?
- Wilson Pickett finished an hour ago.|- I spoke to the man. I did me best.
You said it was no problem.|You said it was all fixed.
If you've been bullshittin' me,|I'll ram that trumpet up your arse!
I'm sorry you doubt me, Brother Rabbitte.
We need roadies.
Will yeh ever shut up, for fuck sake!
Who the fuck d'yeh think yeh are?
When I come offstage I want|a proper towel, not a tea towel.
And a bottle of mineral water.
- Don't fuckin' spray that!|- Thinks he's fuckin' Prince!
And what's that meant to mean?
- Are we doin' an encore?|- Not till I've had a pee. I'm desperate.
Are we waitin' for the|fuckin' mystery man?
Shut up, Charlie shaggin' Parker!
Is Wilson goin' to come?
"Wilson"! You didn't know who Wilson|Pickett was a month ago, you stupid cow!
Don't do that!
You're probably goin' with him, too!
They're me fans! They love me!|They're my fans, not your fans.
Are yeh goin' to do|a fuckin' encore or not?
I'm goin' to fuckin' burst you!
Your fuckin' days are numbered! Fat slob!
- Go an' fuck yourself!|- Yeah? Yeah? Yeah, yeah. Yeah, yeah.
A double Jameson's, please.
Hello, Dublin!
So yous lot couldn't get tickets|to Wilson Pickett tonight, no?
He was supposed to come an' see us.
I'm serious. Only, our manager fucked up!
We'd like to do a Pickett song now.|Hope yeh like it.
Hit it!
I'm gonna wait till the midnight hour
That's when my love|comes tumblin' down
I'm gonna wait till the midnight hour
When there's no one else around
I'm gonna take you, girl, and hold you
And do all the things I told you
In the midnight hour
Midnight hour
Oh, yeah
I'm gonna wait till the stars come out
And see that twinkle in your eye
I'm gonna wait till the midnight hour
Midnight hour
That's when my love begins to shine
Jimmy Rabbitte?|That is a mean band yeh got there.
- Dave Machin, Eejit Records.|- Eejit Records?
- Listen, I'm very excited. Can we talk?|- Sure!
Go somewhere a bit quieter, yeah?
Midnight hour
Exactly, Jimmy. Eejit Records is a small|label, but we're good because we care.
No money upfront, but we'll pay for|an engineer and studio time for a day.
Sounds brilliant!
I'm gonna wait till the midnight hour
Midnight hour
That's when my love|comes tumblin' down
Midnight hour
I'm gonna wait
Midnight hour
That's when my love begins to shine
Midnight hour
Just you and I
Midnight hour
Just you and I
Midnight hour
Just you and I
Midnight hour
You and I
Midnight hour
Just you and I
- We were good, Steven, weren't we?|- Fuckin' deadly!
- Hey, Joey, what about tha'!|- We were brilliant!
- Not tossers, wha'?|- I was good, wasn't I?
- You were good?|- My chords was good!
- Give it to Natalie! She had him first!|- I'd piss in his helmet if I was you!
Fuckin' take it!
You're the one that had your fuckin'|tongue rammed down his throat!
Can you believe this?|They're fightin' over the little fucker now!
You started this!|You and your fuckin' dick!
- I am gone.|- No one's had me!
It's lmelda. She's such a prick teaser.
Don't call me a fuckin' prick teaser!
Give over, all o' yeh!
I've said it before, and I'll|say it again. I'm very excited.
But is there any problems with the band?|They were slaggin' you off a bit.
No, no, no, Dave.|You know how it is in rock'n'roll.
Once they get a taste,|they become overnight arseholes.
Isn't everybody in rock'n'roll an arsehole!
Except for management, that is.
All right! All right!
- Autographs now, is it?|- At least I can write me own name!
You're a smart boy, yeah?
Don't start me now. Don't fuckin' start me.
Don't fuckin' start me!
Don't start me! Don't start me! Don't...
Jimmy! Jimmy! Jimmy, get up here!|They're murderin' each other!
What the fuck is goin' on?!
- The usual.|- I turn my back for 30 seconds!
- I'm leavin' this fuckin' band!|- Me, too!
Not one of yis has ever seen me|as anythin' but a bum and a skirt!
Fuck yis. Fuck the lot o' yis.
Arsehole! Fuck off!
Ohh... My God! Jesus Christ!
- Are yeh all right?|- Yeah, I'm fine, thanks.
Can I have your autograph?
Jimmy! D'yeh want a ride?
Piss off!
Look, don't take it personally, Jimmy.
They'll all come crawlin' back.
They can crawl up their holes|for all I care!
O sing unto the Lord a new song,|for he's done marvellous things.
Psalm 98.
You lied to me, Joey! I always bought|everythin' you told us! But you lied to me!
I'm sorry you doubt me, Brother Rabbitte.
In time you'll realise|what you've achieved.
- I've achieved nothin'!|- You're missing the point!
The success of the band was irrelevant!
You raised their expectations of life!|You lifted their horizons!
Sure, we could have been famous,|but that would have been predictable.
This way it's poetry.
It's a pisser is what it is, Joey.
Hey, man... you know a nightclub|called Gallagher's?
Yeah, it's just around the corner,|but it's closed now.
Should we go back|to the hotel, Mr Pickett?
So how did you feel at the time, Jimmy?
Well, sick, I can tell yeh, Terry.
What happened to everybody|after you split up?
Well, all sorts of things, Terry.
I still see Derek and Outspan.|They're still in the music business.
Mostly in Grafton Street.
I try to help them out whenever I can.
And Bernie,
last I heard, she was in|a country and western band.
But you know Bernie. Nice girl,|but she had terrible taste in music.
And, of course, Dean is still|playin' tossers' music.
Although, I must admit,|he got quite good in the end.
And Billy?|What happened to him, Jimmy?
God knows, Terry. The last I heard, he'd|been kicked in the head shoeing a horse.
Steven became a doctor, of course.|But he says he misses the music.
And Mickah?
He has his own band,|believe it or not, Terry.
Quite a success, considering|he should be locked up.
Imelda married dopey Greg.|There's a kid on the way, apparently.
He won't let her sing any more.|Shame, really. She had a nice voice.
Deco got his recording contract.|He's an even bigger prick now.
Oh! Excuse my language, Terry.
How about Natalie, Jimmy?
She became very successful,|as you know, Terry.
Is it true about you and her?
Don't believe all you read|in the papers, Terry!
But, yes, it's true to say|we are fond of one another.
And Joey?|What happened to him, Jimmy?
Natalie saw his mum the other day, Terry.|She said she had a postcard from him.
He was playin' with Joe Tex|on a North American tour.
Only thing is, Terry, Joe Tex died in 1982.
So, lookin' back, Jimmy,
what have you learned from your|experience with The Commitments?
Well, that's a tricky question, Terry.|But, as I always say,
we skipped the light fandango,|turned cartwheels 'cross the floor.
I was feelin' kinda seasick,|but the crowd called out for more.
That's very profound, Jimmy!|What does it mean?
I'm fucked if I know, Terry!
All you've gotta do
Is try a little tenderness
Oh, yeah, baby
Oh, yeah
Squeeze her
Don't you tease her
Never leave her
You got to
You got to
You got to
You got to
Try a little tenderness
Oh, babe
Oh, yeah
You got to
Squeeze her
Never leave her
You got to
You got to
Got to, got to
Got to, got to, got to, got to
Try a little tenderness
Yeah, yeah
Oh, yeah
Yeah, ye-ah!
Yeah, my man!
Oh, you're lookin' good, baby!
I wanna tell you a story
I wanna tell you a story
Every man oughta know
Every man oughta know
If you want a little lovin'
If you want a little lovin'
You gotta start real slow
You gotta start real slow
She's gonna love you tonight now
She's gonna love you tonight
Yeah, if you just treat her right
If you just treat her right
Oh, squeeze her real gentle
Squeeze her real gentle
Gotta make her feel good
Gotta make her feel good
Tell her that you love her
Tell her that you love her
Like you know you should now
Like you know you should
And she'll be glad every night
She'll be glad every night
That you treated her right
- No, no, no|- That you treated her right
If you practise my method
If you practise my method
Just as hard as you can
Just as hard as you can
You're gonna get a reputation
You're gonna get a reputation
As a lovin' man now
As a lovin' man
And you'll be glad every night
You'll be glad every night
That you treated her right
That you treated her right
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
- Hey, hey, hey, hey!|- All right! Never mind!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Hey! All right!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Hey, hey, yeah!
Hey, hey, hey!
Hey, hey, yeah!
Hey, hey, hey!
Hey, hey, hey, yeah!
Hey, hey, yeah!
Hey, hey, yeah!
Hey, hey, yeah!
Hey, hey, yeah!
Hey, hey, yeah!
Hey, hey, hey!
I wanna tell you a story
Yeah, I wanna tell you a story
Every man oughta know
Every man oughta know
If you want a little lovin'
If you want a little lovin'
You gotta start real slow
Yeah, start real slow
She's gonna love you tonight
I know she's gonna love me
If you just treat her right
- I will|- Ohh, yeah
Squeeze her real gentle
Real gentle, real gentle
Gotta make her feel good
Make her feel good
Tell her that you love her
She knows I love her
Like you know you should
I know I should
Cos if you don't treat her right
She won't love you tonight
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Hey! Hey!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
All right! Never mind!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
All right!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
All right!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
- Ye-eah, ye-eah!|- Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Rock it, baby!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Hey, hey, yeah!
Hey, hey, yeah!
He-ey, yeah!
Hey, hey, yeah!
Hey, hey, yeah!
Hey, hey, yeah!
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, yeah!
Hey, hey, yeah!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Visiontext Subtitles: Diane Buck
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Coyote - Dont Give Up the Sheep (1953)
Coyote - Fast and Furry-ous (1949)
Coyote Ugly
Craddle 2 The Grave
Cranes Are Flying The (1957)
Cravan vs Cravan
Crazy Beautiful
Crazy People 1990
Crazy in Alabama
Creature from the Black Lagoon
Crew The
Cries And Whispers (Bergman Ingmar)
Crime Scene Investigation 3x01 - Revenge Is Best Served Cold
Crime Scene Investigation 3x02 - The Accused Is Entitled
Crime Scene Investigation 3x03 - Let The Seller Beware
Crime Scene Investigation 3x04 - A Little Murder
Crime Scene Investigation 3x05 - Abra Cadaver
Crime Scene Investigation 3x06 - The Execution Of Catherine Willows
Crime Scene Investigation 3x07 - Fight Night
Crime Scene Investigation 3x08 - Snuff
Crime Scene Investigation 3x09 - Blood Lust
Crime Scene Investigation 3x10 - High And Low
Crime Scene Investigation 3x11 - Recipe For Murder
Crime of Padre Amaro The
Criminal Lovers (1999)
Crimson Pirate The
Crimson Rivers 2 - Angels Of The Apocalypse
Crimson Rivers 2 Angels of the Apocalypse
Crimson Tide
Criss Cross
Cristina Quer Casar
Critters 2 The Main Course 1988
Crocodile Dundee in Los Angeles
Cronos 1993
Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon
Crow The
Crow The - City Of Angels 1996
Cruel Intentions 3
Crumb (1994)
Cube2 Hypercube 2002
Cube Zero
Cure (Kiyoshi Kurosawa) CD1
Cure (Kiyoshi Kurosawa) CD2
Curse The
Custer of the west
Cut Runs Deep The 1998
Cutthroat Island (1995)