(CROWD MURMURS)
How are you?
All right. We're good to go.
I have a two-part question. I would expect nothing less. Shoot.
The first part is for Mr Dali.
So what was it like working with Mr Cooper?
And part 2, Bob.
Part 2 is for Mr Cooper.
So what as it like working with Mr Dali?
..on this tour.
Do you want me to...?
I can't afford to put off the dry ice.
You know I don't like being disrespectful to women.
I gotta make this right.
Thank you.
The three golden rules of rock management, my friend.
One. Get the money. Two, always remember to get the money.
And three, never forget and always remember to get the money.
Erica, with your life.
We had some freaky, deaky shit.
Alice, you were beautiful. You were beautiful tonight.
You are not gonna believe who was in the crowd tonight.
Oh, my God. It's not...
-No. -Oh, my God. Dylan?
A little bit more out there. David Crosby?
Way, way, way, way, way, way further out there.
Bing Crosby?
You're never gonna get it.
Are you ready for this?
In the house tonight was Mr Salvador Dali.
Holy shit.
Salvador Dali?
-Did he like it? -He loved it.
-He loves you. -He said that?
No, his old lady did. He didn't say a word.
The guy's a genius, man. The guy's a genius.
If that gives you one, drop your kimono
and get ready for the happy ending, kimosabi.
Because the D Man...
..wants to work with you.
Oh, Nixon's balls. Salvador Dali wants to work with me.
-That's right. -This is it, Shep.
I'm a fucking cultural icon.
Think about it. He could have asked anybody. It could have been Jagger.
It could have been James Taylor.
James Taylor? JT writes a beautiful melody.
-Oh, man, come on. -Ye-oh! Just seen Steve with a stash you won't believe.
Please. Please.
Come on. So what are we talking about here?
Do I paint? Cos I got a fine arts degree.
You know, I haven't painted in a while.
Fucking hell, man. All of that shit's -surreal. -Sssh.
Cool. Hey, Alice. Cool.
Let me do my thing, you know?
Because my thing is what I do.
Holy crap. I'm gonna be collaborating with Salvador Dali.
There will be NO collaborating with the Dali.
He did not collaborate with the Fascists...
whatever people say.
And he will not collaborate with your ridiculous-looking client.
OK. What are we talking about, then?
The Dali will create his greatest ever work of art.
In layman's terms, The Dali is l'escrit
and your client is the fruit bowl.
Ha. Well, in that case, 'the fruit -bowl' is gonna need 20 -K up front.
And that's before we talk residual.
I refuse to discuss money with you, Mr Blimmings.
You're not discussing it with Mr Blimmings, madam, but with me.
Shep Gordon.
All right. That just happened. So....
Mr Dali wants to take some kind of photograph of Alice.
Multiple photographs to create a three-dimensional image
otherwise known as a hologram.
So, good day...
Mr Blimmings.
The Dali will see The Cooper on Monday at noon on the dot.
I really hate to be the suit in the room here
but we still need to talk money...
..in...er...layman's terms.
I can't discuss money without my husband, The Dali.
Well, can we ask him to join us?
(CLUCKING FROM OUTSIDE) Regrettably, he is away on business.
(BELL PINGS) So this guy comes in. He's wearing a crown of thorns.
She slaps him. He leaves. There's no explanation.
-I love it. -Seriously, man, I've had Sinatra's guys hold me off
a balcony in Vegas. I've taken a cricket bat to the gut.
That was a funny thing.
I've even had Colonel Tom Parker put a gun to my head.
But I swear to God, those guys have got nothing on this broad.
I'm serious man. She's messed with -my head. -She's a surrealist.
Which is fine...on stage in a gallery. I think, the circus.
But you cannot talk percentages with the clouds.
No sweat, man. I'm not in this for the bread.
This is a true artist collaboration.
The thing is, I don't even know how to close the deal with this chick.
Maybe you gotta sacrifice a goat or something.
Well, I tell you, the one thing I will not be sacrificing
is your deal, buddy. OK?
We will get it closed before you finish the hologram.
Where is Dali anyway? They said noon sharp, right?
I guess it's hard to tell the time when all your clocks have melted (!)
Ladies and gentleman, The Dali!!
(HEN CLUCKS)
This is what I'm talking about.
(SPEAKS IN FOREIGN LANGUAGE)
The Dali says dinner is served.
Because the unconscious mind is so key to your work,
I was wondering how big an influence Freud is for you.
You want me to cut that for you, -sir? -No, he does not, Mr Blimmings.
Again with the Blimmings.
Are you, like, making a comment on the whole role of food
in today's consumerist society? Net.
Ich waere Russisch.
I'm gonna go with it.
Sorry to interrupt The Dali. It's just last month's bill...
in the sum of $14,000. (WHISTLES THROUGH TEETH)
Oh, yes. Of course.
This is the greatest lunch ever.
Yes, sir. Thank you.
Hey, if I signed your shirt, could I get a bottle of Dom Perignon?
(ALICE SNIGGERS)
It's a joke. Busting your balls.
(Oh, yes. Very funny.)
It's good?
So, how do you want me? I'm putty in your hands, maestro.
Ha! Maestro! You forgot this, you silly old fool.
I should never have left Max Ernst.
He would never have prostituted himself to the Americans!!
You DISGUST me!
Puta! (SPITS)
He is not human nor a fool.
Hang on. You speak English?
It is a good thing...
..you did not catch her in one of her bad moods.
She just spat in your face, man. -What of it? -That's cool.
It's cool. You're a couple of freaks. I did it.
You call my wife...a freak?
No. No. No. I was saying... No. No. No. No. No. No.
We cannot begin this way. We are finished for today.
Come back tomorrow.
And BE ready. How do you mean 'ready'?
Wear this.
(BELL DINGS)
Listen, buddy, I know the first day was rough.
I know you called his wife a freak. (CLUCKS)
But it's OK. You're doing great.
He's playing mind games with you.
He's also got two giant eggs for boxing gloves.
(CLUCKS) Yeah. It's a little unorthodox.
(EXHALES) But you can take him.
Eat him for breakfast.
You call those boxing gloves, you hopeless...
Aren't you meant to be building up my confidence?
And aren't you meant to be that great genius, Salvador Dali?
(BELL DINGS REPEATEDLY) Seconds out.
OK. Just another day at the office.
(EXHALES)
Behold, the brain.
Is that a real brain? Yes.
Really? It looks like a plaster cast.
What's that on top of it?
Confusion. Isn't it a chocolate eclair?
How is that confusion? Bzzzzzzzzz!
(SPEAKS GIBBERISH) Rrrrrrrr!
OK. So I have to be confused too. Is that the idea?
No... No. No. No. No. No.
-Sit. -Here?
OK. Brain chocolate eclair on red velvet cushion.
(SNIGGERS) Doesn't need anything else. I dig it.
(YELLS OUT)
(CLICKS FINGERS)
What am I saying? It needs some ants tipped on it by your old lady (!)
Come on, Mrs Dali, can we not reach a deal where everybody wins?
Did I tell you Paul Eluard and Max Ernst were incapable
of satisfying me simultaneously?
No, I think I would have remembered that.
One for to enter the portal of Venus
and the other, shall we say, in the mode a la Grec.
Yeah. Listen...
speaking of the back end...
..if we can't reach a deal here, I'm gonna have to pull my boy out.
Are you referring to your...
..what your Americans call it, your cock?
Stop trying to throw me off my game with all this sex talk! Jesus.
(SIGHS) Listen to me.
If you cannot afford to pay Alice,
he will be happy to accept payment in kind.
He is not getting the diamonds.
He doesn't want the diamonds. What is he? Liberace?
He wants the brain.
With or without the eclair?
With the eclair and the ants.
All the trimmings.
All the trimmings for Mr Blimmings.
Very well.
But on one condition. Oh, boy. Here it comes.
The brain must simply disappear.
My fool of a husband is getting a reputation for paying people
with his art.
OK.
Deal.
(BANG!)
Tell me if I'm speaking out of turn here, Senor Dali,
but your wife, she's kind of a pistol, isn't she?
Pistol?
-Pistol. -Yes. Yes. I like that.
She has the masculiiiine power of a pistol.
This is good. Now we're sharing.
She is the man and the woman combined.
-Like you. -The what now?
Well, you are Cooper the man, yes?
But you are also Alice the woman.
You are half woman.
You do know I'm not a transsexual, -don't you? -Yes. Yes.
Trrrrrranssexual.
No. No. No. It's just my stage name.
Alice. My real name's Vince Furnier.
(CLICKS GENERATOR OFF, IT POWERS DOWN)
You are not Alice Cooper?
Well, originally, it was the band's name, now it's kind of my name.
What? Alice Cooper is just a mask?
Doesn't everybody wear a mask? Isn't Salvador Dali a mask?
No. No. No. No. No.
I am him; he is me. The Dali.
But you, you just put on the Alice Cooper mask.
I may not be on the same level as you are artistically,
but do you know what? I think I'm a lot happier.
-Happier? Ha! -Yeah.
Who wants to be happy? The pig is happier than the sheep.
But The Cooper, he could be the great artist.
Like The Dali.
If only he will sacrifice happiness.
That's a load of art school crock.
Van Gogh didn't need to cut off his ear to be a great artist.
Cutting off his ear was -his grrrreatest work of art. -Yeah.
Personally, I prefer Starry Night. When did he paint Starry Night?
After he cut off his ear!
OK. So what about you? What sacrifice are you making?
Just bendy clocks and living in a luxury hotel in Manhattan.
You wouldn't cut off room service. What do you know of my life?
-The Dali, he's suffered. -Yeah. Sure.
-At the hands of your wife. -What?!
I'm just saying... Kind of a ballbuster, Gala.
Meanwhile, I see you getting nice and cosy with these young guys.
That is none of your business. Hey, I'm not judging.
I only pray, that when I get to your age,
I've got the same pep in my step. You don't understand.
Ever since he was a masturbating arts student,
The Dali has been obsessed with me.
It is what drives him.
If ever I let him possess me fully...
then that obsession will die.
And with it, his genius. I hear you.
Treat 'em mean; keep 'em keen.
Keep the money rolling through the cash machine.
What a vulgar little man you are.
Oh, yeah? Says back-door babe over here (!)
Listen, I get it. I get it.
It's tricky.
I keep telling Alice he drinks too much and he just says,
"What am I supposed to do? Take up golf?"
No. No. No. No. No. I'm just a little buzzed.
-I need a bathroom break. -What? The Cooper want a potty?
You know what? Fuck it.
(UNZIPS TROUSERS) You know what this represents, Cooper?
(URINATES) Your brain.
You could be the great artist.
But you love too much the cheap confectionarrrrryyyy...
of happiness.
And that is why this chocolate eclair.
So, if the chocolate eclair is my desire for happiness,
how come you put your name on the brain too?
Er...well, because...
And what's with the ants? ..confusion.
Oh, look at you. You're just making it up as you go along.
-That is not true. -You're a carny conman. A snake oil salesman.
But you know what? That's cool, man. I'll drink to that.
(CHOKES AND SPITS)
OK. That was piss. (CHORTLES)
You know, Vincent van Gogh... he cut off his own ear.
Vincent Furnier drinks his own uri-i-i-i-ine.
You got any mouthwash?
(GARGLES)
Last round coming up, buddy. Don't let him get into your head.
This whole thing's a piece of... -You know who you are. -Yeah.
-You're Alice Cooper. -Yeah. I am.
-Or Vincent Furnier. -Or Vincent Furnier.
-Alice Furnier. -I'm Alice Furnier.
-Or Vincent Cooper. -Vincent Cooper.
Who am I?
He is not the future of surrealism.
He is nothing but a drunken, Las Vegas clown.
Well, to be fair, my sweet...
it was you who suggested we...
Shut up and finish him off, you weak feeble, irrelevant fool!
-Was it? -Aarrghhhhh!
So you really think this is gonna be, like, a classic Dali piece?
You know, like, up there with The Persistence of Memory.
But yes, of course.
Because, for Dali, he is incapable of creating anything...
inferior.(SNORTS) Really?
You never just gone, "Fuck it. That'll do."
Never.
So, you're saying, the other day when you signed that guy's tie,
that tie is every bit as great as The Metamorphosis of Narcissus?
Yes, because The Dali, he signed it.
You do not understand.
Dali is the work of art not the tie.
The tie is...
..ir-r-r-relevant.
So what does that make me? Am I irrelevant?
Ah. What do you think, Cooper, huh?
Will you become the Claude Monet,
or just one of the water lilies...
(BUZZ)
-..floating in a pond. -Oh, come on.
You're not gonna compare this hologram to Monet's Water Lilies.
No, that is not for me to say because Claude Monet
was in his 80s when he painted those.
Maybe if I just keep working, I will create...
(CRASH!) Maybe if you just keep working (!)
Is that all you are now?
Some pathetic old man who 'just keeps working'.
Who just keeps going.
Where is the surrealism?
Here! Dali is sur-r-r-realism.
Don't give me that old line again!
You have failed.
Failed... to put your blood into this.
Your genius failed to sacrifice.
What have I not sacrificed?
Reality. If you are the great surrealist...
..sacrifice REALITY!
Fucking A, Mrs D.
(YELLS INCOMPREHENSIBLY)
No, wait. That's a real blade.
Dali is...
-One, get a brain. -I've come to collect Mr Cooper's fee.
Two... Always remember to get a brain.
So, what was it like working with Mr -Dali? -Could you repeat the question?
Three... Alice, don't answer. ..never forget to always...
..remember to get a brain.
Dali. Not... what he thinks or what...
-I had no brain. -No head.
Alice, you keep away...
-Dali. -Select The Dali.
Please watch it. (OVERLAPPING VOICES)
(OVERLAPPING VOICES CONTINUE)
No. No. No. NO! Dali!
So what was it like working with Mr Dali?
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