Mister D: Â Sorry I could not get the formatting right on this. Â I hope you can read this because it is an interesting article.
WINNIPEG FREE PRESS
The abusive Bette Midler is a Rose
Sept 21, 1978
She burst on the scene after having established herself as one of the leading attractions at Manhattan’s Continental Baths. Now, Bette Midler, the queen of trashy pop, is about to parlay her extraordinarily diverse talents into The Rose, a film, she says with her convoluted sense of humor, that is “the sequel to Jaws, in which a shark is attacked by a great white woman.” Originally entitled Pearl and based on a female rock singer’s life as it revolved around drugs, drink and degradation, Midler and her manager-producer Aaron Husso emphatically deny the revised screenplay is the story of “the late, legendary Janis Joplin.
By STEPHEN M.SILVERMAN
In the b e g i n n i ng there was this script entitled Pe a r l, wh i ch d e a lt wi th drugs, drink and degr a d a t i o n. It was a mus i c a l.
“Or igina l ly it was the story of J anis Joplin, whi ch I w o u l d n ‘t do. But I told the people at Fox t h at if I could rewrite it, so the cha r a c t er isn’t J a n is Jopl in and the mu s ic isn’t J anis J o p l i n ‘ s, and if I could give it a new s t o r y, t h en we m i g h t be i nterested in doing the f i lm.”
T h us s p o ke A a r o n R u s s o, whose b a by is The Rose, the r e c o n s t i t u t ed Pearl, w h i ch w i ll be released by 20th Century-Fox n e xt s p r i n g. It does not deal w i th a s h a r k, and it does not deal w i t h J a n i s J o p l i n . I t s t a r s Russo’s real baby, Bette Midl e r, t he e x t r a o r d i n a ry e n t e r t a i n er who only hopes t h at “I can port r ay Rose honestly. She’s such a sweet person.”
* * *
S o m e t h i ng more t h an a p o l i te s p r i ng shower w as f a l l i ng o u tside the New Yo rk H i l t on the evening 20th C e n t u r y – F ox took over the p e n t h o u se to honor b o th B e t te M i d l er a nd t he s t a rt of shoot ing on The Rose. In f a c t, it was a d own p o u r. Yet those on the c a r e f u l ly screened guest l i st a r r i v ed in drove s. The s t ar rec e n t ly had won over the town a g a i n in a s e r i es of p e r f o r -ma n c es at t he C o p a c a b a n a. And now he re she was, up close, and c u r i o u s l y, c a u s i ng whi spe rs f or the wr o ng reasons.
No one was r e p e a t i ng any of t he out r ageous bons mo ts t h at she m i g ht h a ve been w i n g i ng as s he m i n g l ed t h r o u gh the c r owd. I n d e e d, it a p p e a r ed s he h ad none to say; n e a r ly eve ryone received a c o r d i al h e l l o. Somet h i ng w as d i f f e r e n t, c e r t a i n ly in a p p e a r a n c e.  P e r o x i de a nd l i qu id p r o t e in h ad t a k en
c a re of t h a t. Gone was the e l e c t r ic r ed h a i r a nd sense o f, w e l l, a m p l eness. But gone, too, was her e l e c t r ic s t age presence, a nd t h at was d i s a p p o i n t i n g.
” W a it a  m i n u t e ,”  s o m e o ne  s a id. “Is  t h at Bette Mi d l e r ?”
“This  is me ,”  s a id  the 32-y e a r – o ld  M i d l e r,  t u g g i ng  at a  l o ng  b l o n de  c u r l.  “And  t h is  is the way  I ‘m going  to  s t ay. Blonde. M a y b e .”  S h e  s m i l e d ,  w h i c h t u r n ed  h er eyes  i n to
n a r r ow  s l i t s.
T h en  s he  p u c k e r ed  h er l i p s,  as  if  p r o t e c t i ng  h e r s e lf  f r om  t he next  q u e s t i o n.
Would she be doing  a n o t h er  New  Y o rk concert?
“For the movi e?  No.  We were going  to, but  the re wasn’t  t ime. Now we’re going  to do  t hat out there.”
Out  t h e r e?  C a l i f o r n i a?
“Yeeeeeessssss,”  she  s a i d, b a t t i ng her eyelashes in a  p a r ody of mov ie star.
Was  s he  ne rvous  a b o ut  m a ki ng  h er  f i r st  f i l m ?”
“Oh,  t h is  i sn’t my  f i r st  f i l m ,” s he  g a s p e d.  ” I ‘ve  n e v er  t o ld  a n y b o dy  t h i s.  I  n e v er
t hou g ht  I ‘d h a ve  any  r e a son  to. But once 1 was  an  e x t r a. I was  an extra  in T he De t e c t i ve
w i th  F r a nk Sinat r a. And  t h en I was  an  e x t ra  i n  – a r e  y o u  r e a d y?  – G o o d  b ye
C o l u m b u s.  T h i r t y – t wo  f i f t y a day and two  h o u rs on the  t r a in to a nd  f r om  N ew Roche l le  to  w a t ch Ali M a c G r aw  s n ap  at  t he  s t r aps o f  h er  b a t h i n g  s u i t .”  Bette Mi d l er  m a de
i m a g i n a ry  m o t i o ns to  s n ap  at  t he  t i ny  w a i s t b a nd  of her  j e a n s. “Snap those  s t r a p s,
A l i. Snap  t h at  thing.”
“She  w a n t ed  to be  s k i n ny  for h e r  m o v i e ,”  o f f e r e d  A a r o n Russo,  h er  m a n a g e r ,
s h r u g g i ng  h is  s h o u l d e r s.  ” Y ou  w a n t  to  k n ow how she lost we i g h t? She stopped  e a t i n g. She’s  a l so  t i r ed and a  l i t t le  n e r v o us  r i g ht now.”
So was Russo.  F i l m i ng was  to begin  the  n e xt day  in  the penthouse,  w h i ch wo u ld serve  as  the
o f f i ce of Rose’s  m a n a g e r. Ca st a nd crew would  r e m a in  in  t he c i ty  an  a d d i t i o n al 14 days  and t h en  w o u ld  r e t u rn  to  C a l i f o r n ia for  n i ne more weeks of  s h o o t i n g.
L o c a t i o ns  on  t he West  C o a st wo u ld  s i m u l a te  F l o r i d a, wh e re m u ch of  the mo v i e ‘s
a c t i on  ‘ is set.  “I  d o n ‘t  k n ow  w h at  to  t h i nk of  f i r s t ,”  s a id Russo, who is p r o d u c i ng  h is
f i r st  f i l m.
***
B e t te  M i d l er  s t a n ds  p r e e n i ng  b e f o re a  m i c r o p h o n e.  B e h i n d h er  is  h er  b a c k up
t r i o,  t he  H a r -l e t t es –  ” t h r ee  e x a m p l es  of s t r i c t ly  n o n – k o s h er  m e a t ,”  s he
tells  h er  a u d i e n c e.  T he  w i t ty s t a ge  p a t t er  is  j u st  b e g i n n i n g. The  y e ar is 1978. The
p l a ce is the  C o n t i n e n t al  B a t h s,  t he  n ow  d ef u n ct  g ay  h a u n t  on  M a n h a t t a n ‘s
West Side. From  t h e re  to  the p e n t h o u se of  the New York  H i lton in 1978 is a  long  t r i p, but
B e t te Midl er has  m a de  it. She  is b ig  t i m e,  a nd  h er  a u d i e n ce  h as grown  f r om New  Y o r k ‘s gay  s et to a  n a t i o n w i de  f o l l o w i ng  of  h ip a nd  s q u a r e.
In  c o n c e r t,  t he  s i n g er  is  an e x p l o s i o n  o f  s t y l e s,  r a n g i n g  f r om Bea  L i l l ie  to Mae West  to L i za  M i n e l li  to, yes,  J a n is  Jop l i n. She  c an drop  to  the  h i gh s c h o ol
s e n t i m e n t a l i t y  of  T he L e a d er of the  P a ck as done by the ’60s  g r o u p, the  S h a n g ri Las,
then rise to the cool  s o p h i s t i c at i on  of a  N o e l  C o w a r d  n u m -ber.
But  s i n g i ng is  o n ly  p a rt of a M i d l er concert. She is a  d e ft mo n o l o g u i s t,  w i th a  b r e a t h
t a ki ng  r ange  of  c u l t u r al  r e f e r enc e s,  f r om ’50s  h i gh school  s l a ng  in S a m u el  J o h n s o n. Be twe en songs she  z ings in every  d i r e c t i on one l i n e r s,  b a w dy jokes,  f o u r – l e t t er wo r d s, Long  I s l a nd  n a s al  a cc ents  ( ” H a r r y,  d id  s he  r e a l ly s ay  t h a t ? ” ) ,  a nd  w i l t i ng  i n s u l ts
( ” I t ‘s  v e ry 1971 of you to come in t h at dress”).
Even as Mi d l er parodies – in songs or  j o k es –  she  e v o k e s.  She can  d r aw  f rom  s e v e r al second- r a te  s i n g i ng styles to do one  n u m b e r,  a nd  y et  m a ke  it  u n iq u e ly  h er  o w n.  S he
c an  t a ke  t r a s hy  p op songs  a nd  t r a n s f o rm t h em  i n to  s o m e t h i ng  b r i m m i n g w i t h  e m o t i on  a nd power.
The  g i f ts of Be t te  M i d l er – who  h as been  c a l l ed  p a rt  E d i th P i a f, pa rt Sophie  T u c k er  a nd
p a rt  B e l le  B a r th – once  even p r o m p t ed  an essay  in  t he  u n l i k ely  p a g es of  f l i p  N ew  R e p u blic. “It  is Midl e r ‘s  s p e c i al  a p p e al and  i n i m i t a b le  s t r e n g th of pe rs o n a l i t y ,” wrote
t he  l i t e r a ry  a nd c u l t u r al  c r i t ic  R i c h a rd Poi r i e r, ” t h at  she  c an  l et  h e r s e lf  s a t i r i ze
and be moved by  w h at most of us  w a nt  o n ly  to  l e a ve  b e h i n d .”
M i d l er  h as  t u r n e d  o ut  f i v e  a l b u m s ,  though  h er  f i r st –  w i th  s u ch  t r a cks as Am I Blue.  Boog ie Woogie Bugle Boy,  a nd  D e l ta D a wn –  r e m a i ns  the most popu l a r.  T he  M i d l er
a u d i e n ce  t e n ds to be  u r b an  and  y o u n g, yet  as e c l e c t ic  as her  m a t e r i a l.  She has
a p p e a r e d,  m i n u s  k n i c k e r s ,  to c o l l e ct  a n  a w a r d  f r o m  H a rv a r d ‘s Ha s ty  P u d d i ng  C l u b,  a nd o n  t h e  G r a m m y  t e l e v i s i o n  b r o a d c a st one  y e ar she wore a record  s ingle  in  h er  h a i r.
Her role in The Rose  p r omi s es a  n o – h o i d s – b a r r ed  B e t t e, a  l a rge r – than- l i fe pe r sona l i ty in a l a r g e r – t h a n – l i fe  a rt  f o r m.  S he pl ays Rose, a rock star who  prepares for her concerts by
swigging  a q u a v it  and banging a two-by-four against the  w a ll to b u i ld up a sweat. She abuses men in mu ch the same ma n n e r. There is Rudge, her ma n a g e r, who wears  f a d ed  j e a ns and $’100
l i z a rd  skin boots,  and there’s Houston Dyer, a  c h a u f f e ur she picks up one night and beds in a suite at the Pl a z a. She also once bedded wi th pr im  and  p r o p er  Sarah, as well as, it  t u r ns  o u t, her entire  h i gh school football team. “I ha te mu s hy love  s t u f f ,” she tells Dyer  d u r i ng  an  embrace. “Wake me when the  k i l ling starts.”
Rose is vibr ant,  t emp e r ame nt a l,  i n t u i t i v e,  a n d,  a b o ve  a l l, lovable. She has no  h o me to
speak of; she is  a l w a ys on the road. In the wor ld,  a ll she has is her music, her  f a n s, her boyf r i e nd,  a nd  h er  m a n a g e r. And she  t h i n ks  she has them  a ll  at her  f i n g e r t i p s.
***
Midler’s theme song has  long b e en  F r i e n d s, a  b i t t e r s w e et n u m b er in wh i ch she eschews t he  s a n c t i t y  of  l o n e l i n e ss  in f a v or of some sort of  c omp a nionship. From the  t i me she  f i r st  sang  t h at  t u ne  in  the  e a r ly ’70s, her  c o m p a n i on has been  the bur ly, 35-year-old Aa ron Russo, a lways  as her  m a n a g e r,  and  i n it i a l ly as her lover. The  r oma n t ic r e l a t i o n s h i p  is  no  m o r e,  a lt h o u g h, when Midl er is ne a r, Russo’s eyes never stray  f r om her side, and  w h en she is gone, his  conve r s a t ion is  s t i ll  f i l l ed w i th he r.
“Wa it  t i ll you see her on  t h at screen,” says Russo,  h o l d i ng up h is  h a n d. “There’s  o n ly  o ne  person  y o u ‘ ll be able to  c o m p a re her  to.  C h a p l i n .”  It was Russo  – ” I ‘m  J ewi s h. M o st  p e o p le  t h i n k  I ‘m  I t a l -i an” – who  shaped  the  M i d l er career,  g u i d i ng her – the ni ce J e w i sh
g i rl  f r om  H o n o l u lu o ut  of  t he  B r o a d w ay  c h o r us whe r e, in the  l a te ’60s, she was one of  the  d a u g h t e rs  in  F i d d l er on  the Roof,  and  i n to  the  C o n t in e n t al  Ba ths. Ve ry  q u i c k l y,  he would  then  t ake her  i n to  o t h er clubs, on to the  J o h n ny Ca r son s h ow,  a nd most
i m p o r t a n t,  or  to  r e c o r d s,  on  t he  A t l a n t i c  l a b e l.
“Some of  the  a l b u ms  I ‘m  no too  c r a zy  a b o u t ,” Russo now a d m i t s. Her  t h i rd  a l b u m, Song;
f or  t he New Depression, met w i th a hostile  r e a c t ion  f rom  c r iti cs  a nd a  l e ss  t h a n
e n t h u s ia s t ic response  f rom  the  r e cord b u y i n g  p u b l i c. “But Bette  alw a ys bounc es ba ck.”
***
The Rose, a  s c r e e n p l ay by Bo G o l d m an  a nd  M i c h a el  C i m i ni (ba s ed  on  an  e a r l i er
d r a f t  by W i l l i am Ke r by  and a  s tory by Wor th  and  C i m i n o ),  is  s et  in 1969. Says Russo: “Rose is a composite:  J a n i s,  J i mi  H e n d r ix J im  M o r r i s on  – a n d  M a r i l y n Mo n r oe  a nd  J a m es  D e a n.  C h ara c t e rs who get  too  c a u g ht up  in the  m o m e n t um of  t h e ir  l ives t0 k n o w  w h e n  to  s t o p .”  N or is The Rose  about  M i d l e r. “I’d tell h er  w h en  to  s t o p ,”  he  s a ys.
“She’s  e m o t i o n al but not reckless.” To  s o l i d i fy the  s o u nd of the p i c t u r e.  W o r th  a nd Russo  h ave h i r ed  P a ul  R o t h s c h i l d,  t he  f ormer m u s i c al produc er  f or  B onn ie  R a i tt  a n d,
b e fo re her,  the Doors,  and yes,  J a n is  J o p l in.
The mu s ic  for The Rose  w i ll not be mi d d l e – o f – t h e – r o ad “or even t he eclectic  s t u f f  f r om
Be tte a l b u m s.  I t ‘s  g o i ng  to  be  o u t – a nd out  rock,” Russo says.
