[after listening to Bohemian Rhapsody; groans]
Christ. [Freddie stops music reel] Well, I'm not entirely sure that's the album you promised us.
No, it's better than the album we promised you. It's better than any album anyone's ever promised you, darling. It is a bloody masterpiece.
[under his breath]
Christ.
John Reid It is a good album, Ray.
It's expensive, and as for... Bohemian...
[clears throat]
Rhapsody.
...Rhapsody. What is that?
It goes on forever; 6 bloody minutes.
I pity your wife if you think 6 minutes is forever. [Paul scoffs] And you know what? We're going to release it as our single.
[chortles]
Not possible. Anything over three minutes, and the radio stations won't program it, period. And what on Earth is it about, anyway? "Scaramouche"? "Galileo"? And all that "Ismillah" business? "Ishmillah"?
Oh, aye. Bismillah. What's it about anyway? Bloody Bismillah?
True poetry is for the listener.
It ruins the mystery if everything's explained.
Seldom ruins sales. 3 minutes is the standard. John.
John Reid Yeah, we need radio. Format is three minutes. I have to agree with Ray. I actually think the single's Love of my Life.
John Reid Okay, how about John's song, You're My Best Friend? You know, "Ooh, you make me live." Catchy, stronger.
What about I'm in Love with My Car?
I love it. [Freddie kicks Ray's desk] Well, that's the kind of songs teenagers can crank up the volume in their car and bang their heads to. Bohemian Rhapsody will never be that song.
It's the band decision. Bohemian Rhapsody. That's it.
You're My Best Friend. And it's my money.
[removes music reel]
Or we walk.
PP Paul Prenter
[pauses]
MacArthur Park was 7 minutes long. It was a hit.
Look, I'm not arguing with Bohemian whatever's...
...musicianship, but there's no way in Hell, the station will play a six minute quasi-operatic dirge, comprised of nonsense words! "Bismillah"? Bullshit! I paid for this record, so I say what goes!
Have we no legal recourse on this?
JM Jim "Miami" Beach
Ray, you did Dark Side of the Moon, haven't you?
JM Jim "Miami" Beach
Yeah, I absolutely love that record. [to Roger Taylor; answering his question] Uh, legally, no. No, he's got your balls in a vice. It's a different matter in a court of public opinion, of course. Ray Foster's a giant name in the music industry, but... to the average person. [shrugs] Say the name "Queen", on the other hand...ears prick up.
[long moment of silence] [refusing to back down]
We're going with You're My Best Friend. Done.
No, we know what we have, even if you don't. It's called Bohemian... [he puts his cigarette out on Ray's papers] ...Rhapsody. [leaves with the band] You will forever be known as the man who lost Queen.
John Reid [after they leave, Jim takes one final glance at Ray while waving goodbye, before joining the others. The door closes, leaving Ray, John, and Paul]
Temperamental artists, eh? They're well aware they're tied to a contract, but who knows what goes on inside the inscrutable mind of the recording artist?
Mark these words. If they're not careful, by the end of the year, no one will know the name "Queen". [brick is thrown through window] Christ!
[Paul opens window, and, along with Ray Foster, sees Queen outside.] [shouting]
You can take that out of our royalties, twat!
You can shove your gold discs! You made a mistake, Foster!
[shouting]
You'll never have a gold disc, you medium talent! [to Paul] And to think, I work with Hendrix.