Original subtitles

- Hi, Ma. - Gimme your watch.

Sure. Why?

I'm working on a magic act for the talent show at the centre.

Abracadabra, one, two, three.

Ma!

Relax.

Dorothy, was your card the ace of spades?

Ma, what the hell are you talking about?

I think I got chapters seven and nine mixed up.

This watch is broken.

Ma, Stan gave me that watch when we got married.

The marriage never worked. Why should the watch?

I got bigger problems. I don't have an act for the talent show.

Talent show? Can I be in it?

Blanche, what you're talented at isn't generally done on a stage.

This isn't downtown Saigon.

Ma, will you do me a favour and forget about the talent show?

You'll end up with egg on your face, like last year.

What did you do last year, Sophia?

What are you, deaf? She just told you. I tried to juggle eggs.

- Hi, Rose. - Hi.

What's the matter, honey? Is something wrong?

I'm concerned about nuclear war.

And just yesterday, her biggest concern was whether Bubbles the chimp

was travelling with Michael Jackson against his will.

- OK, honey. Tell us what's wrong. - What does this picture look like to you?

Uh... Me sitting on a throne dressed as Cleopatra

watching while two naked men wrestle to see who gets to make love to me.

- It's the end of the world. - Only for the loser.

OK, Rose, what is this all about?

You know that Sunshine Cadet troop I've been helping out with?

This was done by one of the girls.

She calls it, "Nuclear Bomb: The Day After".

Eight years old, and this is on her mind.

- That's unbelievable. - She wasn't the only one.

Three other girls did pictures just like it. I don't understand it.

Honey, it's not so uncommon. Kids hear about nuclear war on TV,

they read it in the papers. It's part of their lives.

- They can't help but think about it. - It's so sad.

When I was eight years old, I just worried about the usual childhood things.

How much would the tooth fairy leave me? What would I get from Santa?

Would I ever be chosen Small-Curd Cottage Cheese Queen?

I'm only doing this because I have some more coffee left to drink.

Small-Curd Cottage Cheese Queen?

It was our town's biggest honour.

- Right after... - Large-Curd Cottage Cheese Queen.

The point I'm trying to make is, kids should enjoy being kids.

They should look forward to their future, not worry about the end of the world.

- Hey, what's with the long faces? - We were just talking about the bomb.

Very nice. You haven't even seen my new act.

Ma, we were not talking about you.

Everybody will talk about me when they see what I cooked up for the talent show.

I call my new act "Sophia and Sophia". Get a load of this.

Uh... Hi, Sophia. Oh, hello, Sophia.

How are you feeling today? Oh, I got a little arthritis in my neck.

I was wondering why my wrist was hurting.

- What do you think? - Come on.

- You can see your lips moving. - So?

A ventriloquist's lips aren't supposed to move, Sophia.

- Is that common knowledge? - I'm afraid so, Ma.

Otherwise it would just be you talking with a sock on your hand.

Tough break, Sophia. One minute you're about to entertain the masses,

the next, you're back on a foot covering a corn pad.

Now you know how Valerie Harper feels.

Well, my turn to cook dinner. What does everybody want?

Nothing for me, thanks. I'm not hungry.

Don't let this get to you. It's something you can't do anything about.

I've always believed you can fix a problem, no matter how big it is,

if you just put your mind to it.

How will you fix this nuclear-war thing? By writing a letter to President Reagan?

That would be pretty stupid, wouldn't it, Blanche?

Reagan's only responsible for half the problem.

I have to write to Gorbachev, too.

Rose, honey, you can't be serious.

Dorothy, I'm taking my troop on a campout in two weeks.

I don't want this nuclear nonsense spoiling our fun.

A well-written, thoughtful, intelligent letter to Reagan and Gorbachev

might just do the trick.

Anybody know how many "Z"s there are in czar?

I don't know why I bothered to make this. I could have had Rose sit on my hand.

To this day, the ghost of the headless Indian roams the forest, crying out,

"Where is my head? Where is my head?"

If the Indian doesn't have a head, how can he cry out?

Maybe he talks out of his behind like Cadet Master Rose.

Well, the Indian cries out from his heart. That's the worst kind of crying.

My father's a surgeon. That's physiologically impossible.

How can we be drawn into the story if you're misrepresenting the facts?

Honey, it's a make-believe, scary, campout story.

Real scary!

You want scared, kid? You keep it up.

My mother's a lawyer. Threaten me again and I'll own your house.

Your father's a doctor, your mother's a lawyer.

What are you, one of the Cosby kids?

- This is boring. I wanna watch MTV. - Yeah!

We can't watch television. We're on a campout.

No, we're not. We're in your living room. The campout was called off, remember?

The rain doesn't have to spoil our fun.

There's nothing we can do outside that we can't do right here.

You promised us we could pee in the woods.

Get away from that couch.

I have an idea. Who's in the mood for some real campout food?

I have beans, I have beef jerky, marshmallows...

We want pizza.

With artichoke hearts and shitake mushrooms.

Yeah!

Girls, would you be disappointed if I took the troop down the block for some pizza?

No!

All right, everybody, in an orderly fashion, let's head for the station wagon.

Now that's not the way to get your good-behaviour badges.

Come on, now. You all know you use both fingers with the Sunshine salute.

I'm so glad those little heathens finally left.

Me too. I am exhausted.

I just don't think I'd have the energy to raise any more children...

although I am still in my child-bearing years.

Sure, Blanche. You and Imogene Coca.

Oh, my God, they're back.

Now I know how the family in Poltergeist felt.

Does Rose Nylund live here?

I'm sorry, you missed her. She just left with her cadet troop.

Could we help you?

I'm Alexi Bornov from the Russian embassy.

Premier Gorbachev read Rose's letter and would like to meet with her.

I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry, I...

Is Coca Cola, no? No need to apologise.

In Moscow I stand in line six hours for half as much.

Would you please make sure Rose receives this note.

Wait, you can't be serious.

Why would the premier of Russia want to see Rose?

He was quite moved by her letter.

He wishes to extend an invitation to her and her family

to visit Moscow and discuss nuclear disarmament and world peace.

We'll be in touch. Thank you.

- This has to be some kind of joke. - No, it isn't.

Look, this is an official document to Rose from the premier of Russia.

But why would he want to meet the same woman who once said,

"If the city of Atlantis is lost, how can Bobby Vinton appear there twice a year?"

Rose! Rose, the most unbelievable thing has happened.

Remember that letter you wrote to Gorbachev? He's answered it.

- He wants to see you. - What did Reagan say?

Well, nothing. He didn't send a letter.

Well, that is unbelievable. I wrote him two days earlier.

I did the dumbest thing. I walked out of this house

and completely forgot it's a full moon.

Under those conditions, a Sunshine Cadet master must wear full headdress.

Here I come, girls!

Kemo sabe, I think the world is in heap big trouble.

We interrupt this dream for a special news report.

Good evening. I'm Edwin Newman.

The eyes of the entire world were on Moscow today

as Rose Nylund continued her mission of peace.

It was 15 days ago that Mrs Nylund wrote the now-historic letter

that captured the attention of Premier Gorbachev.

Today she was in Red Square, capturing the hearts and minds

of the Russian people. We switch now to Moscow.

Rose! Rose! Rose! Rose!

Thank you.

I want you to know Doctor Zhivago is my favourite movie of all time.

Now I'd like to introduce my friends.

Brezhnev! Brezhnev! Brezhnev! Brezhnev!

No, no, no. This is Dorothy.

You have a very beautiful country, and I have enjoyed my stay here.

When it comes down to it, your lives aren't really that different than ours.

Except for your toilet paper.

No wonder you people always look so grouchy.

- And this is my friend Blanche. - Hello, you all.

I have had such a great time here that I would like to express my appreciation

to Premier Gorbachev on this special day.

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday. Mr Number One Communist

Happy birthday to you

- Ma, what are you doing here? - Thanks a lot for leaving me home.

Lucky I found this nice German kid who flew me to Red Square.

Ladies and gentlemen, I know you're dying to hear my act. I'll get right to it.

I just flew in from Miami, and boy, I gotta tell you, your Moscow is one clean town.

No litter on the streets, and all the bugs are in the American embassy.

Thank you, Sophia.

And thank you all. Remember, give peace a chance.

The Moscow audience is the best audience in the world.

...the best audience in the world. The best audience in the world.

The best audience in the world.

- The best audience in the... - Rose. Rose.

- Hi, Dorothy. Hi, Blanche. - You all right, honey?

Oh, I'm fine. I just had a dream. We were all in Moscow.

It was snowing and we were all wearing fake furs.

I guess I'm just nervous about that press conference tomorrow.

I've never had a press conference before.

The idea of reporters coming to the house to ask me questions scares me to death.

Honey, relax. Reporters are just people. They put on their pants one leg at a time.

Except for that sports writer Steve Maxwell.

He likes to jump into both legs all at once.

With a little hop-step.

Honey, there is nothing to be nervous about. The press wants to meet you

because Gorbachev really respects your views on world peace.

Boy, you know when you say it out loud, it really sort of lays there.

- Pay attention. You're in for a treat. - Oh, Ma, not another act!

No, Dorothy, not just another act - the act.

I've taken a classic and reworked it Sophia style.

Thanks for the medicare

For Blue Cross and Blue Shield

For a hip that finally healed

Remember on prescriptions generic is a steal

We thank you so much

OK, what do you think? Don't hold back. I can take the criticism.

Depressing.

Awful.

Stinky.

Go to hell, all of you!

Actually, she took it better than I expected.

Dorothy, I've been talking to that good-Iooking reporter over there.

He just got back from Russia. He told me a couple of very interesting things.

It snows there in the summertime and they don't have very many attractive women.

Do you realise what that means? When we go to Russia, I will have my pick

of any man in the country, and you can make a snowman in June.

We can start the press conference now. Where is Rose?

- Oh, she left to pick up her cadet troop. - That's adorable.

She wants to share this moment with friends her own age.

- You must be very proud of your daughter. - My daughter?

Friends her own age? Why, how old do you think Rose is?

Well, based upon her letter, we figure nine or ten.

- No? - To be perfectly honest, she's...

...closer to ten.

Blanche, could I see you in the kitchen?

Was there anything we can get you? Coffee, tea, pair of Levi's?

Well, that solves the mystery. They think Rose is a little kid.

What will we do? If she reads that letter to the press, she'll humiliate herself.

We can't tell those Russians the truth.

- Why not? - They will use it as a propaganda ploy

to convince the whole world that all Americans are as dumb as Rose.

That would rock the very foundation of our government.

Undermine our great leaders and potentially topple our entire democracy.

Rocky IV had a profound effect on you, didn't it, Blanche?

Oh, come on. We have to tell them the truth.

- Hi, girls. I hope we're not late. - Rose, we have something to tell you.

This is amazing. This is so amazing. To think, I'm giving a press conference.

And next week we all go to Moscow. Can you believe it, Dorothy?

No, but then again, I can't believe that God wanted Jerry Falwell

to go down that water-slide in a cheap suit.

- Rose... - I know I'm babbling, but I'm so excited.

Maybe I should open up with a joke. No, my jokes are boring.

Maybe I should just tell a story.

Like the time my Uncle Gustav got drunk and tried to milk a porcupine.

- We have to tell you something. - There's been a terrible misunderstanding.

We found out today that everybody thinks the letter you sent to Gorbachev

was written by a nine-year-old girl.

You can't be serious.

Oh, the troop is back. Which one is little Rose?

This one. This is little Rose right here.

I will inform the press we are about to begin.

- This is so embarrassing. - Don't you worry about it.

We'll let Linda read your letter. Nobody will be the wiser. Come on.

- Is it all right, Mrs Nylund? - Gee, I don't know. I guess so.

Good. I was afraid I wouldn't get my moonbeam badge,

because you said a Sunshine Cadet never lies.

Get out here.

Ladies and gentlemen, several weeks ago I showed a letter to our premier.

He was so moved by its childlike simplicity,

he requested to meet with the little girl who wrote it.

I would like to introduce you to that extraordinary nine-year-old girl right now.

Rose Nylund.

- I'm Rose Nylund. - Oh, boy.

- I'm the one who wrote the letter. - Oh, boy.

I guess there's been some kind of misunderstanding.

But a Sunshine Cadet never lies.

I have two announcements: This press conference is cancelled,

and I am proud to be the newest citizen of Miami.

If anyone wants to reach me, my name is Dave.

- Honey, that took a lot of courage. - You all right?

No!

- This is the worst day of my life. - Come on, honey, it's not that bad.

I made a total fool of myself in front of the press.

I'm the laughingstock of the entire country. What am I gonna tell my mother?

Your mother's from St Olaf. She'll understand.

I'm just stupid. I'm a dimwitted, dumb, simple-minded,

grade-A Minnesota chucklehead.

But the important thing is you're our chucklehead.

And we wouldn't trade you in for any other chucklehead in the whole wide world.

Why don't you take it, Dorothy.

Honey, listen to me, what you did was great. It was historic.

Your words managed to move the heart of a major world leader.

And I would like to hear those words, too. You promised us you'd read us that letter.

I never will. It's too embarrassing.

You said today was the worst day of your life. What have you got to lose?

- I'm never gonna read this letter. Never. - All right, then, will you let me read it?

Oh, fine! Kick me while I'm down. I might as well get used to it.

"Dear Mr Gorbachev, my name is Rose Nylund."

"I'm writing to you because I'm really worried about nuclear war."

"I hear there are enough bombs to blow up the world a hundred times,

and it scares me. It scares the girls in my cadet troop, too."

"They talk about what they want to be if they grow up, not when they grow up."

"That's why I'm asking you to please unplug your bombs."

"I'll bet my bottom dollar - or in your case, your bottom ruble -

that if you called President Reagan, he'd do the same thing."

"It's just someone has to be first. Thank you, your friend, Rose Nylund."

"P.S. Don't call the President in the afternoon."

"I hear that's when he takes naps."

Honey, that was really beautiful.

It's a shame that more people don't think like nine-year-olds.

Hello? Yes, she is. Here, Rose, for you.

Hello? Yes.

It's the President!

Yes, Mr President. Thank you. Goodbye.

The President loved my letter.

I've got to write this down in my diary right now.

I just figured out what I'm gonna do for the talent contest.

- What, Sophia? - What?

My Reagan impression.