The biggest shock of this movie: how un-Bette Midler Bette Midler is in this picture. You think of Better Midler now, you think of a permanent guest on The View. Think of her in her heyday you think of her vamping around in a mermaid outfit and belting out tightly arranged Broadway numbers. But she was a relative unknown when cast for “The Rose,” so she isn’t in either of her personas. This unofficial Janis Joplin biopic is by the numbers but that doesn’t make it a gripping flick to catch on TV as Ann and I did tonight. The performances are solid, the outfits are outrageous, the lighting kinda makes Bette look like Dee Snider from certain angles and Frederick Forrest does the best Scott Glenn impression he can. The scene with the drag queens (which I’m certain were added in after Bette was cast, as I don’t think Janis had much of a gay New York following) is a few minutes of pure inspired fun. The meltdown ending, predictable as it may be, is touching in Midler’s able hands. Alan Bates’ character is a bore, though. It’s funny, ’cause the song “The Rose” which was such a monster smash is the only late-70s/early-80s power ballad here, the rest is legit blues-rock.