Backbeat

(Drumming from inside club)

(Woman) # Kiss me, honey, honey, kiss me

# Thrill me, honey, honey, thrill me

# Don't care even if I blow my top

# But honey, honey

- # Don't stop

- (Drunken men sing along)

# I'd like to play a little game with you

- # A little game especially made for two

- (Drunk men) # Made for two

# If you come close then I will show you how

# Closer, closer now

- (Man) What do you fancy?

- # Kiss me, honey, honey, kiss me

# Thrill me, honey, honey, thrill me

(Men, drunkenly) # Thrill me

(Singer) # I don't even care if I blow my top

# But honey, honey, don't stop... #

# Don't stop

- Hey, you.

- It's not me, mate. It's him.

Yeah, but you'll do.

- # So settle down and let me teach you how

- You, f*** off.

- # Closer, closer now... #

- What's this?

It's nothing.

- Call that nothing?

- What do you call it?

- Filth.

- That's not filth. That's art.

- He says this is art.

- Call that art?

- Yeah, well...

- That's Nancy. That's my girl.

(Singer) # Don't stop... #

- That's your girl?

- No, never.

She'd never throw herself away

on shite like you.

What did he say?

He says you're too f***ing ugly.

- (Glass shatters)

- # But honey, honey

(Woman) Ow!

(Singer) # Don't stop

(Shouting)

# You kiss so well my lips begin to burn

Quick. Let's get out.

# ..you've got a lot to learn

- # So hold me close and baby, show me how

- He's over there, on the right.

# Closer, closer now

# Kiss me... #

(Song continues in background)

(Both laugh)

(Long sigh)

All right, lads, a joke's a joke.

Well, here's another joke.

See if you get a laugh out of this.

Go!

- (Thuds)

- Aagh!

Get off, you bastard.

- Leave it, will you? Leave it!

- I'll f***ing kill you!

You f***ing killed him.

(Strains and gasps)

- I'll kill you. I'll kill all of you.

- Oh, yeah?

I'm gonna bring a crew down here

and kick the shite out of you.

- (Man in gang) Nancy boy!

- Bastards.

- (Man, distant) F*** off.

- You're all shite, the lot of ya.

(Coughs)

You all right, Stu?

Huh... (Sniffs)

How do I look?

Put it this way -

you'll get better, I'll always be ugly.

(Children chattering)

(Record) # I've got a woman...

# They call her Chocolate Brown

# I've got a woman

# They call her Chocolate Brown

# Once she's started lovin'

# Oh, she just won't stop... #

Good.

# I got a bright woman... #

You call that art?

It doesn't look a bit like me.

- It's not finished.

- It doesn't look like anything.

# Sweet as she can be...

Stop it.

Stop it, I said, before I get cross.

Look at you, you're a bloody mess.

- (Door opening)

- What?

Cream tea, anybody?

Ask him what he thinks.

- What do you think, John?

- Does that look like me?

- Does it?

- You got the tits right.

- You shag her?

- There's more to life than shagging Celia.

- Sabrina.

- Because I'll shag her for you.

Don't be too shy to ask.

What friends are for.

- What do you think?

- Do you want the truth?

Please.

Hanging's too good for it.

- 50 guineas.

- That's cheap.

Don't let it go to your head. It might be ten years

before you sell another one.

Van Gogh never sold a picture in his life.

Yes!

I like the blonde but I prefer the brunette.

- Blondes have more fun.

- Who says?

- Swedes.

- It's got to look good.

You'll get it for 50, you know.

(Train rattling on rails)

(Bells pealing)

(John) Liverpool. Home of...

(Stu) Liverpudlians.

You know what I like about Liverpool, Mr. Sutcliffe?

No. What is it you like about it, Mr. Lennon?

I was hoping you'd tell me.

I know what Arthur's gonna say.

He's gonna say, "I gave you a chance.

"I put a brush in your hand,

I went out on a limb for you

"and you're tossing it away to play bass

in John Lennon's skiffle band."

Not a skiffle band.

It's a rock-'n'-roll band.

- "I opened doors for you..."

- It's not my band. It's a group.

We're a group. We're in it together.

- He's gonna sh*t himself.

- I like Arthur.

You know, he's all right.

But he thinks art's something

you got to hang on the wall in a pool of light.

It's a disease with him.

He thinks it's all about van Gogh.

- Nothing wrong with van Gogh.

- I had a word with him.

- Did you?

- Bumped into him in The Grapes.

I said, "Vincent, where did it all go wrong?"

- You know what he said?

- What?

He said, "If I could do it all again,

"I'd be up there shaking me bum

doing Blue Suede Shoes.

"It's all dick." That's what he said.

- I gave him your regards.

- Thanks.

You're a painter, Stu.

You are the best I've got.

I'm coming back.

- It's a pisser to throw it away.

- I'm not throwing anything away.

You could teach me a damn sight more

than I could ever teach you.

Arthur, I'm 19 years old.

I've got me whole life.

- And where's it gonna get you?

- Hamburg, for a start.

(Whistles) Take it easy, mate. Put it up there.

(Paul) Hey.

- It's a bit rough out there.

- It's nothing. Bit of a swell, that's all.

- You call that a swell?

- I call it mother's milk.

My dad was a sailor, and his dad.

I'm the son of a son of a sailor.

Bollocks.

Mum! Mum!

- Here.

- What is it?

- Scones. I've made you some scones.

- Mum, they've got food on the ferry.

- They haven't got my scones.

- I can't take scones.

If the lads know, I'll never hear the end of it.

- I'm in a rock-'n'-roll group, Mum.

- (Sighs)

So have you ever been abroad before?

Overseas, like?

Oh, aye. Yeah.

Yeah, I've been to the Isle of Wight.

- I'll write.

- You'd better.

Oh, every day. Every minute. Every second.

Now and then would be a start.

You're a tough negotiator, Miss Powell.

(Paul) Come on, George, we're starving.

- There's food on the ferry.

- Where are those scones your mother makes?

All right, lads.

(Ship horn sounds)

Shall we?

(Groans)

Is that right, pal?

You did say your father was a sailor?

(Retches violently)

You did say the sea was in your blood?

- (Silence)

- Sorry? Missed that.

I said...

Oh! Ugh!

You horrible filth.

(As pirate) Believe I'm feeling a shade better now,

but I do believe the captain's

trod on me parrot, sir, arrr, arrr!

(Chuckles)

# Bright lights

# Big city... #

Look.

# Gone to my baby's head

# Oh, bright lights

# Big city

# Gone to my baby's head

(Shouting)

# I tried to tell the woman

but she don't believe a word I said

# Go light

# Pretty baby

# You'll need my help someday

# Oh, it's all right

# Pretty baby...

(Car horn)

# You're gonna need my help someday

# You're gonna wish you had listened... #

(Engine rewing)

(Chatter)

F***in' hell!

F***in' hell.

Wow.

- It's only temporary.

- Temporary?

What do you want for nothing?

You Top Ten yet?

You haven't done nothing yet.

People have died in here.

You can smell 'em.

(John) Whole families.

- (German accent) This is them?

- This is them.

- Yeah, we're them.

- This is Bruno.

You are how old?

- 18.

- 18. Everything's cool.

Everyone's 18.

- Lads, this is it. Remember the song.

- (Cheering)

- What's the song?

- (Laughter)

(# Saxophone blues)

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