All language subtitles for Playing.By.Heart.1998.720p.BluRay.X264

I have a friend,
a jazz musician, trumpet player.

Really terrific. And I go
and hear him jam every month or so.

And he plays this piece I love:
an old Chet Baker song.

And he blows the same notes every time,
but every time it sounds different.

And we had drinks one night--
when I used to drink--

and I tried to tell him
how that song made me feel...

how the music made me feel
and how his playing made me feel.

And he just kept shakin'
his head, and he said...

"Joan, you can't talk about music.

Talking about music is like
dancing about architecture."

I just said, "Well, gonna
get all philosophical on me.

It's just as pointless as
talking about a lot of things.

Love, for instance."

And my friend laughed, and he said,
"Definitely. Most definitely.

Talking about love is
like dancing about architecture."

So I don't know.
He might be right.

But it ain't gonna stop me from trying.

# Ooh, ah, ooh #

# Ooh, ah, ooh #

# Tell me, tell me
Tell me, tell me #

# Tell me, tell me
Tell me, tell me #

# Woke up again this mornin'
with the sun in my eyes #

# We might change the movie script
Surprise #

# A Mafioso story with a twist #

# Two more films
You know, you are a hit #

# You get your ass out there #

# All right #

# Feeling nothing #

# Absolutely nothing that day #

# And I say what the hell
am I doing drinking in L.A. #

# How can you sit there #

I'm alone, and I want
to keep it that way.

I lost my wife and son.

- Well, ask the bartender. He can find anything.
- No.

They're dead.

Do you wanna talk about it?

Any guys here
taking this Viagra? Let's see.

Not one honest guy.

Have you--
Okay?

You know, you have to be--
A friend of mine dropped one of
these Viagra pills on the floor...

and his dog swallowed it.

Now he has a pointer. Anyway--

- We have to talk about this.
- I know. You're right.

But do you really think
we can save this marriage...

now that I've decided I like Leno
better than Letterman?

Don't. I'm sorry.

I remember when my jokes
used to make you laugh.

They do. I just--

- We have to talk about this.
- There's nothing to talk about.

Oh, of course there is.

But I don't want to.

Okay.

What about the party?

Well, nothing's changed.
I have a brain tumor...

but I'm going to that party,
with or without you.

We've put a deposit down.

Mission accomplished.

I am in love.

In love?

Yes, in love.

But before we go further,
let me say this.

Before we go...
further--

I can't go any further.

It's almost 1:00, Meredith. 1:00.

- And I got a day job, remember?
- Yeah. Phil needs his sleep.
He's a postal worker.

All right, slackers.
Trot off home.

Good night.

- Settle a bet I have with Phillip?
- Yeah.

He claims you have
no personal life whatsoever.

I say that's impossible.

I hope it wasn't a large bet.

On equity waiver salary
you can't afford to lose much.

No Mr. Right?

Ms. Right?

No inclination for either at the moment.
Thank you very much.

But if you're fishing,
"mister" is my gender of choice.

You're a wonderful person.
You should have someone in your life.

That's all I'm saying.

I can still be a wonderful person
and not have anybody in my life.

Look, I'm just not interested
in a relationship right now.

You are such a liar.

I am such a liar.

Front desk.

Hold that, please!

Did she not say,
"Hold that, please"?
Or isn't English your first language?

Any trouble getting away?

He has his acting class tonight.

- You want me to get champagne?
- I don't think I have time for that.

In case you're planning on
being gentle tonight...

don't be.

Mom?

Welcome to Chicago.

You look awful.

- You should get some sleep.
- I'll sleep when you sleep.

It happened three days ago.

The last time I talked with her--
my wife Leann--

It was about 3:00.

She was taking our son Jamey
to, uh, soccer practice.

Uh, I had a meeting at a bar.

I'd had a few drinks. No more
than usual-- standard four-drink buzz.

Maybe five.

After, I was gonna meet Leann and Jamey
at the Pizza Hut.

Every Tuesday night
Jamey wants Pizza Hut.

So I was late.

I was driving fast.

Not too fast, I think.

The light, it just turned.

It was red for only a second.

Less than.
I swear.

I ran the light.

I saw the car.

I hit my wife's car.

Oh, my God.

I saw her face through the windshield
just as I hit them.

She saw me.

She knew it was me.

Oh.

You shouldn't be alone.

Yes, I should.

I should be alone in hell.

That's where I am.

Twenty minutes at 350 degrees
is absolutely essential.

No more, no less.

And the delicacy of this fish
is best appreciated by its taste...

not necessarily by its appearance.

Once you remove the fish
from the oven...

transfer it directly
onto a heated plate.

There's one thing that's
paramount for every cook to keep
in the back of their mind.

Only you know
what goes on in the kitchen.

Join me next week:
Hannah's Country Kitchen Cooking.

And we're clear.

Hannah, that was incredible!
I smell a fourth Emmy.

I don't wanna see any more
of these. Hmm?

Tough. Oh, I--

Mmm. It's delicious.
What?

Nothing.

You can never stop, can you?

- Stop what?
- Organizing things.

- Oh, I'll stop if it bothers you.
- No.

It doesn't bother me.
It takes me back.

Sit next to me.

It's a hell of a way
for you to find out, huh?

- Find out what?
- Well, that I'm gay, for one.

Come on.
You never suspected?

- You were always so good at sports.
- Mom!

I'm really glad you're here.

- And what's the second thing?
- What second thing?

You said it was a hell of a way
for me to find out that you
were gay for "one" thing.

- So what's the second thing?
- That I'm dying.

- Don't say that!
- Oh, stop! I can't go back into
our classic mother-son pattern.

Okay? I can't play the Iverson family
game of denying reality...

- where reality is over there, somewhere...
- Oh, honey, don't.

and we hide from it over here
and pretend it doesn't exist.

Okay? It takes too much energy.
Energy that I don't have.

All right. Maybe I don't either...
have the energy.

God, that would be good.

All right, we'll start fresh.

Pattern-free.

Within these four walls,
reality will prevail.

And if I slip up,
you-- you let me know.

You'll--
You'll be the first.

They say first steps
are the hardest.

The doctor said
you haven't had any visitors.

You know me, Mom. I've never been
one to have a lot of friends.

Besides, I seem to be
the last of my small crowd.

What about your roommate Jack?

He wasn't my roommate, Mother,
and he died a year ago.

Hey, how's the commercial going?

It's on hold for a week.

The geniuses at Pacific Motors
have now decided to spotlight the car...

and dumb down the concept.

- No Fellini?
- Who? Most definitely no Fellini.

But my play's not falling apart.

- I'm happy for you.
- Thank you.

Bosco, where do you keep
Theater Week?

Top shelf. Between Psychology Today
and Martha Stewart Living.

Uh-oh!
Whoa!

Jesus! Meredith?

Jimmy, grab that side! Grab that side.
Okay. Everyone. All right, fellas.

On three. One--
Oh. Okay. All right.

- Can we say "lawsuit"?
- Uh, are you okay?

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fine.
I landed on a stack of George.

- Plenty of padding.
- Meet the architect.

- Are you sure you're okay?
- Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you.

- If I can just find one, Theater Week is on me.
- And dinner is on me.

- No, no. Not necessary. Truly.
- Please. I insist.
It's the least I can do. I mean--

- Look, I'm not gonna sue you, okay?
- I didn't think you were gonna sue me.

Not that I couldn't, mind you.
But something tells me...

that you'd be able to convince
the jury that this was my fault.

You know I'm not just asking you
to dinner as a preemptive strike
against litigation.

- I'm asking because--
- I'll have dinner with you.

- What changed your mind?
- Anybody who can say "preemptive strike...

against litigation" with a straight face
deserves a dinner companion.

Thank you.

This is last week's.

I'm thinking of putting
the show on hiatus.

And I'm thinking
you'll do no such thing.

- But, Paul--
- No. I don't want anything to be any different.

- Things are different.
- I don't want to have a fight with you.

I don't want a fight. I just--
I just want to talk and make--

Look. What about what I want?
You've always controlled everything:

your shows, the kids.

Stop trying to control me.

I'm not trying
to control anybody.

- I just think maybe--
- Don't think.

Let us just proceed as if
nothing has changed. All right?

- I don't know if I can do that.
- You have no choice.

I may have just enough time left
to become an alcoholic.

#

I don't care who had her first. I poke
around her stool looking for worms.

I feed the fucking thing.
I take her to the vet.

All you do is pet her twice a day.

Which is a hell of a lot more
than you've been doing to me lately.

Okay, let's discuss this calmly.

We're adults.
We've been together a long time.

Well, not a long time,
but an adequate four months.

Adequate until you fuckin' cheated on me
with that skag from Bloomingdale's!

You fu--
Harry?

Don't you dare hang up.
Harry! Harry?

Shit! Shit.

Hi. You got a quarter?

Thank you.

The fucking cat is mine.

No, no.
On this I'm not negotiable, Harry.

Harry. Hey! Hey!
Don't be a fuckin' infant, okay?

You can take anything that came from IKEA.
I want the cat, and I want Pottery Barn.

It--
One more time.

You hang up one more time and I--

Damn it.

- It's my last one.
- Negotiations are almost over.

Thank you.

All right. Okay, scumbag.
You're robbing me blind...

but I will give up Pottery Barn
if I can just have the cat.

No! No. Pottery Barn does not
include Williams Sonoma.

They're two separate
establishments, Harry.

Oh, Christ on crutches!
Okay, you know what, Harry?

I want to get rid of you as much as I
want to get rid of that junk from IKEA.

So here's the thing.

You can walk away with Pottery Barn,
Williams Sonoma, IKEA.

And just to show you that I'm
a grown-up, I will throw in all
the crap from Hold Everything!

Yeah! Yeah, that includes
the hanging shoe sorter.

That's right.
Do we have a deal? Great.

So here's the thing.
I will be home in two hours.

You and all your junk
from the catalogs will be gone...

and the cat will be there waiting
for me, purring contentedly.

Well, the least I can do
after taking your last quarter
is let you buy me a drink.

I work in the Twin Towers.
Entertainment law.

- And you?
- Me?

I'm not very good company.
I'm-- I'm sorry.

No problem.

- I'm not gonna bother you.
- Uh, don't go. l-l-I'm sorry.

- No, I'm sorry. Really.
- Again, I'm sorry.

- You've had a bad day.
- A killer.

You know, yesterday I would have
said that things couldn't
possibly get any worse.

They sure as hell
got worse today.

I'm, uh--
I work in the, uh, Twin Towers too.

I'm a development executive
over at ABC.

I'm responsible for all those shit shows
that you don't watch on Thursday night.

You're to blame for those?

Afraid so.

Everybody blames me.

My boss, my wife, my secretary.

Hell, even my kids.
They watch NBC.

And I work like a dog...

trying to find some way to fix
the Thursday night schedule.

Well, I don't find a way to fix
the Thursday night schedule...

and my boss,
today he tells me...

that coming into the office
tomorrow isn't necessary.

Or coming in ever again,
for that matter.

I wish you could
spend the night.

You know I can't.

- Is this all you want from us?
- Roger...

and I mean this really sweetly,
there isn't any us.

- Mmm. There's only this.
- Well, this could be different.

Well, anything
can be different.

But I don't want this to be.

I want it to be what it is:
two very sexually compatible
people enjoying each other...

with no obligations,
no complications...

no individual history,
no mutual history...

and no guilt.

- That's awfully cold.
- It's awfully realistic.

- I know you don't love your husband.
- Oh, but I know...

that you do love your wife.

I'll have a vodka martini,
very dry and straight up...

- with three olives, and my sullen friend here will have--
- A Coke.

The poster boy for designated drivers
will have a Coke.

- The guy on the phone?
- Harry.

Harry, right.
We were together for five months.

- I thought it was four.
- You were paying attention.

Everyone in this club
was paying attention.

We were together for five months.
But I knew it wasn't gonna work out...

'cause the first time he comes over
I find out that he sits down to pee.

- You don't do that, do you?
- No.

So fuckin' lazy.
And in my experience...

it extends to other aspects
of an individual's personality.

Last time I saw him, Harry was wearing a
blue sweater and an idiotic expression.

The sweater was new.

Here's to good riddance Harry.

Good riddance Harry.

Hey, again please.

And drier this time,
and three olives, not two.

Three.
Nutritional value.

Now, where were we?
Oh, so Harry.

Right.

The sex part wasn't bad.

You know, for a while.

And then his consummate laziness
and lack of imagination
became tediously self-evident.

Every time, everything was
exactly the same as the time previous.

It was as if he had followed
some step-by-step instructional video.

And about two weeks ago,
guess what I found in the apartment.

- A step-by-step instructional video.
- Right! Here's the topper.

I timed his performance
one night. Right?

And then I checked the running time
on the video. And guess what.

- To the minute.
- Right down to it.

Twenty-three minutes, to be exact.

Including credits.

Anyway, he's history.

- But I still have Blanche.
- Who would be the cat.

Oh, a great cat.
Very feline.

The best cats are.

Blanche can look at you with a gaze
of unflappable superiority...

that seems to spring from near total
detachment and disinterest.

Not unlike
how you're looking at me now.

Thank you.

You don't say very much, do you?

- Does anyone, when they're with you?
- Don't get mean.

We don't know each other well enough
yet. When we do, then you can get mean.

So we should do this again sometime.

- We're not doing anything.
- Okay. Then let's not do this.

Let's do something else.

I'll even let you be the man.
You can decide where we go on our date.

I don't date.

Well. Gee, I don't have
a witty comeback for that one.

I mean, I'm used to
any number of brush-offs...

but that's, uh, that's a new one.

Doesn't date.

I'll admit I've seen you around. You're
always-- You're always dancing alone.

- That's the way I like it.
- Why is that?

I don't want to be
rude or unkind...

or... mean.

But I just don't come out with my entire
life story over martinis and a Coke.

I'm sorry, really.

Your cat's lucky to have you.

My wife had moved them out.

Moved everything out.
Left a note.

Very thoughtful.
Didn't realize she felt that way.

What way?

That I was a failure.

Not only professionally,
but personally as well.

Just like ABC no longer required
my services. She let me know...

that she and the kids no longer
required my services or my presence.

It turns out she's been
seeing some guy for a year...

for a fucking year,
and I never suspected a thing.

- And you know what the worst of it is?
- What?

The guy that she left me for?
The fucker works for NBC!

He's got my wife and my kids,
my cat and my dog...

and he doesn't have to lose
any sleep over the Thursday
night fucking schedule!

Honey?

You should come to bed.
What are you working on so late?

I was just checking on
your TV residuals.

They're still robbing us blind.

I happen to know you're
a tremendous hit on WWFU.

Which is where?

Intercourse, Pennsylvania.

Oh, Intercourse.

And they can't get enough
of you in Intercourse.

And I know exactly
how they feel.

Bed.

Come on, Molly. Come on, Crackers.

There you are, sir. Okay?

- Cheers.
- I've been meaning to ask you about your wedding ring.

It's really just force
of habit. I, uh...

divorced...
four chilling years ago.

- Acrimonious?
- No.

Oh, wait, that means
hostile and bitter. Yes.

In the divorce papers she referred to me
as the "architect of her misfortune."

- Ouch.
- Yeah. No kids, luckily.

I wanted them,
but she didn't.

- You know, if this makes you uncomfortable--
- No.

- I can take it off, the ring. It's not a problem.
- No, no. Stop.

Don't be silly.
That would be two of us being silly.

I really only wear it to keep
the construction guys from harassing me.

Does it work?

Depends on what I'm wearing.

I think you can tell
that I'm not very good at this.

You're charming.

And real.

Lovely.

What did I say?

Nothing.

No, no. Nothing.

I just, um--

Before I came here tonight,
I was discussing you with my sister.

We were coming up with
a psychological profile.

Several, actually.

- And which did I fit into?
- Oh, none.

I think I'm gonna have to
revise the filing system.

Put you in
the "too good to be true" category.

Mmm.
But not to worry.

I just know you'll turn out
to be involved with somebody else...

or... gay or crazy.

Well, it's a definite possibility.

Crazy, huh?

Certifiable.

Mom.

I know you've spoken to my doctor.

I know. I know he told you
I don't have long...

so let's not pretend
that I do, okay?

Want to watch another movie?

No. God, no.

I tell you what I would like,
is I'd like to play a game.

- Should I get a deck of cards?
- No. Not that kind of game.

- What?
- I want each of us to take some time...

and think of something that we have
always wanted to tell the other.

Something private, some secret...

some feeling or memory.

It could be anything.
Just as long as it's truthful.

Uh, I don't know
if I'd be good at that kind of game.

Will you try for me?

Um--

I'm waiting.

I never loved your father.

Not for a minute.

Wow. You're good at this.

- Why did you marry him?
- Oh.

I was pushing 30.

Back then we called that
a last chance for happiness.

He had a good business.
I remember my mother saying, "Marry him.

He's an undertaker
and will never be out of work.

People will always--"

People will always die.

People will always die.

I hope it's okay for me
to say this, but...

you strike me
as someone who's been...

burned romantically.

Scalded.

Repeatedly.

Married?

- Divorced?
- Yes.

But that was a long time ago...

and, believe it or not,
one of my better experiences.

Let me guess.

Uh, he was either involved
with somebody else...

or gay...

or crazy.

Actually, yes.

Involved with someone else?

- Crazy?
- No. He was gay.

- Wow. Really?
- Yeah.

- I mean, I'm sorry.
- No.

I mean, I'm not sorry. I mean, uh--

- Save me.
- It's okay.

He was a great guy.

I married the boy next door.
Literally. We were 19.

It didn't last very long.
Couldn't, of course.

I haven't seen him in a long time,
but, uh, but we're still friends.

Which is more than I can say for the
parade of total losers that followed.

Are there any, uh,
recent or current losers?

No.

I've been in a holding pattern
where romance is concerned.

- Well, things can change quickly.
- Yeah.

I'm sorry.

This is, uh, going
a little too quickly for me.

I can go slow.

Look, Trent,
you're a nice guy. I--

- Aw! Aw. That's-- You know?
- What?

- I'm swimming ashore. You can call the Coast Guard.
- Oh, come on.

"Nice guy"? That's--

I haven't been dismissed
with that since high school.

Does that mean no second date?

I have a hard time trusting men.

I'm not men.
I'm not a group. Just me.

Who probably has
a lot of women after him.

- So?
- So--

Look, you know,
you seem to want honesty...

so I'll be honest with you.

I don't really have
a problem getting dates.

But I'm 38 years old.
I don't just want dates anymore.

I'll tell you what I don't want.

I don't want all of
this calculated artificiality.

This isn't me, Trent--
this dress, the stupid little bows
in my hair. And look at you.

I mean, I don't imagine you sit around
your house in an Armani suit. Do you?

No. My house is black-tie.

- Look, I'm sorry, but--
- I know, you have to go.

- I'm already-- Jesus-- two hours late.
- You're leavin' me too.

It's okay. Really.
Just go. Go.

- Until the day I die, I'll remember that story.
- Yeah, listen. Listen.

You have been swell,
listening to me like this.

Bet you'll think twice about striking up
a conversation in this bar again, huh?

Take care. All right?

- For once I really, really mean that.
- Yeah.

- Good-bye.
- Bye.

Taxi money.

Don't even think of allowing
that guy to drive.

I'm a lawyer.
I'll hunt you down.

Look, Trent...

if by some miracle,
after this explosion of neuroses...

you still want to see me,
we can start from the top.

You can cook dinner
for me Tuesday.

- Okay.
- Good.

- Tuesday.
- Yeah.

- You can come to my apartment.
- Okay.

Meet my better half.

- Better half?
- Yeah. My dog. Barley.

Your dog Barley? That'd be great.
I'd love to meet Barley.

- Good.
- I'll bring the wine.

- Great.
- Good.

- Tuesday night.
- Absolutely.

You know, Meredith,
those stupid little bows?

I think they're adorable.

Why did you stay with him?

Well, you.

I guess I was the last generation
of women who actually did that.

It never even occurred to me
to get a divorce.

I was so relieved when he died.

- Don't hold anything back, Mom.
- Mmm.

Ah, I like this
new spirit of frankness.

It's oddly cleansing.

I want to know
what you're like away from me here.

That can't happen. The fact that you and
I aren't involved beyond this room...

is what-- ahh-- appeals to me.

You know how to play
your role damn well.

Guilty as charged.

- Roger, what do you want?
- I don't want much.

I just want more of you.

I can't give you that.

Roger.
Don't be an anger ball.

"An anger ball"?

Don't you see?
What's great about you and me...

right here, this very moment,
is that we don't come through
that door with a lot of baggage.

We don't come through that door
with any baggage at all.

And aren't we lucky?
We don't bring anything in...

and we don't take anything out.

#

You're not the only one
who can dance alone.

- What?
- I said you look like a man in need of a Coke.

#

Uh, my friend here will have a Coke,
and I'll have a--

Vodka martini,
very dry, three olives.

Good memory.

My mind has an endless capacity
for useless information.

I've had a terrible day.

I know we were talking about you for
a moment there, but my day was so bad.

"How bad was it?" you might ask.

- I might if you gave me the opportunity.
- I was saving you the effort...

so that after I tell you my tale of woe
we can move on to happier topics.

Perhaps one of your choosing. Anyway,
I'm an actress. Did I tell you that?

- No. But I'm not surprised.
- I had this monologue in class today.

And I was prepared.
You know, I mean, like really prepared.

You know Suddenly Last Summer
by Tennessee Williams?

- No.
- Oh, it's one of my favorites. Great story.

It's about this girl, Katherine-- moi--

who is slated for a lobotomy
because the mother of her cousin
wants to keep her mouth shut...

about certain goings-on involving
the old lady's son Sebastian.

You see, the women sort of pimp
for Cousin Sebastian.
Are you following this?

- Amazingly, yes.
- Anyway, it turns out...

on their travels together Cousin
Sebastian liked to troll the beaches...

looking for young native boys
in order to satisfy his base instincts.

One hot afternoon in Cartagena...

the boys decide they have had quite
enough of Sebastian's shenanigans...

and they--
well, they eat him.

- You mean metaphorically.
- No. They really eat him.

They devour him.
In short, he's lunch.

And Katherine witnesses
every course...

from soup to nuts.

If you'll pardon the expression.

Anyway, I'm about to do
this killer monologue. I'm up next--

If one more actor saunters
into this class...

and recites Katherine's "native boys
ate my cousin Sebastian" speech...

from Suddenly Last Summer...

I am going to puke.

Now, who is up next?

Um... Joan! You're on.

The teacher didn't lose
his lunch. I did.

- I'm sorry.
- So am I.

Now, on to happier topics, I promise.
How about a movie?

- I told you.
- I know.

I know. You don't date.
Is it a religious thing?

- No.
- Well, you like movies, don't you?

- They're okay.
- How about tomorrow night?

It doesn't have to be a date.
We'll meet at the theater.

- I don't know.
- Look. I'll make it easy. Okay, blue boy?

Tomorrow night I'm going to the
late show of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre
at the Sunset Five.

If you decide you would like to
join the human race, meet me there.

Uh, now, in other news, they found
a cure for cancer. Okay. Uh, moving on.

- No, they--
- Do you ever hear from Wendy?

What on Earth made you think of Wendy?

- Oh, I don't know.
Just thinking about the old days. - Yes.

Very old. Ancient.

Well, do you?
Do you ever hear from her?

Any reason I should?

Any reason you should keep
her picture in your desk?

None that you should concern yourself with.

Viagra. Oh, God.

Viagra. That's what everyone's
talking about. Are you on it yet?

Just the men.
Okay, uh, well...

it's so successful,
you know, of course--

- Hey. I made it.
- Hi.

- Uh, casually attired.
- Wow.

Yeah, I know. The flowers are
a little much, and I'm late.

But only because I had second thoughts
about the flowers...

and I threw them away halfway down the
block, and then I had third thoughts...

and went back and got them.

Well, I'm glad you did.

Thank you.

Come in.
Come in, come in, come in.

- Thanks.
- I, uh-- I hope you like Italian.

- I hope you like merlot.
- I do.

Wow! That's a--

- Barley.
- That's some dog! That's, uh--

- Barley, get down, sweetie. Come on. Come on.
- Whoa.

- My family has a thing for pets.
- Yeah. Oh.

That's, uh--
That's certainly impressive.

Suddenly I'm feeling
a little inadequate. That's--

I, uh-- It's almost ready.
I, uh--

Sorry that took me so long. I was
on the phone with one of my sisters.

- The married one.
- The one who's having an affair?

Yeah, well, the one
who's always having an affair.

Her husband doesn't
suspect anything?

Her husband is sweet,
but he's a bit dim.

He doesn't have
much of an imagination.

Chandler girls like their men
with imagination?

Yeah. It helps.

You know, I'm told
I have a good imagination.

I don't want
to have sex tonight.

- Okay.
- I mean if that's why you thought I invited you over here--

- I invited myself over here.
- Well, whatever.

- I mean, I know that must be kind of unusual.
- It's not unusual. I--

I mean, I'm sure that most women
don't turn you down.

Meredith, can we talk about
something else?

Honestly, sex is the last thing
on my mind right now.

- Okay, okay.
- Okay?

Okay. Okay.

Want a taste? I mean, I-I'm sorry
if I ruined your plans. That's all.

I didn't have any plans!
I just think--

You know, you've got
a few too many rules working for you...

and way too many rules
workin' against me!

I really like you, but--

This kind of thing
is pissing me off.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

I can't understand why you haven't had
a relationship lately.

Really?
Well, that doesn't take long, does it?

- What doesn't?
- I mean, you turn a guy down...

a-and wham, he just metamorphoses
into an anger ball.

- "Anger ball"?
- See?

All I said was
I have a good imagination.

- I wasn't talking about sex.
- Really.

I've had enough... sex.

Mostly with women
I didn't really like...

a-and probably
didn't really like me.

Call me nuts, man,
but I-- I like you.

And...

yeah, if something happens between us,
sex will probably enter into it.

But not until you break
the brick wall down around yourself...

and certainly not tonight.

Are you finished?

- Yeah.
- I'll show you out.

- What!
- Look, this is exactly what I don't want.

- Somebody being straight with you?
- Yes!

Yes, yes.

You know what, Trent?
I do not have the stamina for this.

I don't.

- Meredith, we haven't even started anything.
- You know what?

We're not going to.

Because let me just jump ahead
to the inevitable. Okay?

We get together.

You hurt me.
It ends badly.

That's a really depressing way
to look at a fledgling relationship.

Well, there's nothing
fledgling about it.

And honestly, that is
the only viewpoint that I have.

Then I feel sorry for you,
Meredith, because I didn't
come over here to hurt you.

- I hope Barley likes Italian.
- He does.

What?

What are you watching?

Midnight Lace.

Ah. Doris Day.

Oh, yeah. That's the one
where she thinks she's going crazy...

but it's really her husband
that's driving her to suicide...

for her money.

Well, thank you, Paul!

Why don't you just go-- go find
a theater that's showing Citizen Kane...

and yell out
"Rosebud is a sled"?

- I'm sorry. I thought you'd seen it before.
- Well, I hadn't.

I mean, I thought we'd seen it before.

Perhaps you have me confused
with Wendy.

So that's what this is all about.

- What "this"? There isn't any "this."
- No? No "this"?

Do you normally speak
through clenched teeth?

I'm not speaking any different
than normal.

- Differently.
- Oh!

You are being idiotic.

Well, you wouldn't want me to act
any different than normal, would you?

- "Differently."
- This isn't exactly what I had in mind.

- Do you still see her?
- Who?

"Who?" Who?
Doris Day!

Oh, you mean Wendy.

You thought I didn't know,
didn't you?

You think the little woman doesn't know
when her husband has an affair.

Hannah, it was 25 years ago,
and it wasn't an affair.

Oh, don't insult my intelligence.

Your intelligence, at the moment,
is in serious doubt.

- Screw you!
- Hannah.

Paul.

Do you really want
to talk about this? Hmm?

Because if you do, I'll tell you
everything you want to know.

You might start
by being honest with me.

- It wasn't an affair?
- It wasn't.

- I never slept with Wendy.
- Oh, please!

Hey, calm down.
You're overwrought.

I am perfectly wrought.

Given the circumstances,
I'm even a bit underwrought.

- There's no such word.
- There is now.

Do you want to know...
why I didn't sleep with Wendy?

I am, as they say, all ears.

Well, I never
slept with Wendy...

because I was
too much in love with her.

Oh.

You couldn't have died
without telling me that?

Keenan? You going out?

Yes, Dad.

Hi. I know for this technically
not to be a date...

we should have gone dutch, but the
tickets were selling out so fast, so--

What would you have done
if I didn't show up?

Um, well, after I recovered from
the supreme disappointment...

and picked up the pieces
of my fractured ego...

I would have run down the escalator and
invited the guy standing on the corner.

You know, the one holding the sign.

The one that says,
"Will work for food"?

Or a movie.
You should have read the fine print.

# I'll plant my own tree #

# And I'll make it grow #

# My tree will not be #

# Just one in a row #

# My tree will offer shade #

# When strangers go by #

# If you're a stranger #

# Brother, well, so am I #

Gin gimlet, rocks.

Make it two.

- I'm Lana.
- Hugh.

I haven't seen you here before.

- Well, how do you know that?
- Honey, you sounded
like John Wayne in a bathhouse.

Well, as a matter of fact, this is my first time here.

I'm 28 years old,
in case you're wondering.

And that's in real years,
not Heather Locklear years.

I'm also a drag queen.

- I think I figured that out.
- Well, I just didn't want
there to be any misunderstanding.

This ain't no disco, and I don't want
no Crying Game confusion.

I want it understood up front,
I may be a fabulous-looking broad...

but I've got a penis.

- So do I.
- Well, then we'll get along just fine.

So you come on and tell Lana what
the fuck you're doing in this place.

Um... I had a...
fight with my wife.

- Old story.
- Well, it's an old story...

but it's a newish twist.

"Newish twist"? Damn, that's a bitch
to say with my sibilance.

I'll have to roll that one
around my tongue later.

Unless you got better ideas.
"Newish twist." Continue.

My wife discovered
I was stepping out on her.

When does the "newish" part come in?

That one's older
than Lauren Bacall.

Well, I-I cheated on my wife...

with her brother.

Make that a double, and keep 'em coming.

# It's impossible
Tell you right now #

# If I tried it
I'd never know how #

He's her younger brother. Sam.

I knew he was gay, of course.
You can always tell.

It's called "gay-dar."

- I'm not gay or anything.
- No, no, no.

Of course not.

It's just something about him.

He always looked at me
like he could see right inside me...

to my true soul.

Don't look at me with that tone of voice.

Let me...
try and explain this.

Wendy came along at a time
when I needed somebody.

If this is supposed to be making me
feel better, you're failing miserably.

It didn't mean
that I didn't love you.

In fact, it meant that I did love you.

Well...

you seem to have been loving
a lot of people right about then:

the kids...

Wendy, me.

Anybody else?

Hannah, we've been married
for 40 years.

There were some rough times.
Admit it.

Oh, I admit it.

This is one of them.

You know I spent a lot of time
that summer with Wendy.

Our production company
did throw us together.

If I remember correctly, I hired her.

Right. We were launching
your first show.

And... well, Wendy was a big help.

Oh, I'll bet.

- Were you really in love with her?
- Yes.

Yeah, I was.
I remember wishing then that I wasn't.

I couldn't think straight
for a whole year.

- That's when you lost all that weight.
- Yes.

- I thought it was overwork.
- It was Wendy.

- I didn't love you any less.
- Oh, don't.

- I didn't.
- Don't.

I just loved her...

differently.

Differently.

Mm-hmm.

And you really didn't
sleep with her?

No.

Of course not.

And you didn't want
to sleep with her?

Oh, good God, yes, I did.

You bastard.
You bastard!

What--

- Hey!
- Just don't touch me! Just--

I've had it!

Well, you did ask.

Oh, boy.

A couple times during the movie
I thought you ducked out on me.

I had to use the bathroom.

Well, at crucial times like
these, you should inform a girl
about having a small bladder.

It saves her
from abandonment fantasies.

Would it help at all
if I told you I didn't sit down to pee?

In this theater,
I don't sit down to pee.

Going dancing?

Maybe.

I'm not asking
to go with you, you know.

We can take this slowly.

Joan, this isn't anything.

It's not anything now,
and it won't be anything ever.

Wow. Message received.
End of date.

- I'll walk you to your car.
- Oh, that's so sweet.

That is so sweet.
He never wants to see her again...

but he doesn't want her to be
dismembered in the underground parking.

- Where are you parked?
- On the "Artist formerly known as Prince" level.

Which one is yours?

The V.W. in space 23.

Uh, there's nothing in space 23.

Really?

Shit!
Shit!

Shit! Shit!
Shit! Shit!

Shit!
I cannot believe this!

I cannot believe this!

Maybe you remembered wrong. Maybe
you're on the Rolling Stones level.

- No!
- The Madonna level?

- I wouldn't be caught dead on the Madonna level.
- We'll call the police.

- I'm sure they'll be able to find it.
- I can't fucking believe this!

My parents bought me that car.

Joan, don't--

What?
Don't what?

Don't cry?
I don't fucking cry.

It's something
of a thing with me.

#

It's very... nice.

It's a hole, but it suits
me and Blanche just dandy.

Speaking of Blanche--

Jesus!

- You scared her.
- That's the ugliest cat I've ever seen.

- She's an angel.
- She only has one eye.

Yeah, but it's her good one. Come on,
Blanche. That mean man won't hurt you.

Um, I should--
I should be going.

- I can make coffee.
- I don't drink coffee.

He doesn't drink coffee.

- Ovaltine?
- I don't want to--

You don't want to be mean.
Go ahead.

You're terrific.

Sensational, really.

- But I'm not right for you.
- Wow.

You should write
these kiss-offs down.

They'd be perfect for a chapter
called, "Piercing the heart
in exactly ten words."

That was ten words, wasn't it?

"You are terrific. Sensational, really.
But I'm not right for you." Yep.

I can't say any more
except for that I-I'm sorry...

and... um... good-bye.

Good-bye or good night?

Good-bye.

Hey.

Hi. No, you did it
all perfectly.

I'll pick up the car tomorrow.

No, you won't be meeting him.
It didn't work out.

Oh, how should I put this.
He's virtually non compos mentis.

Any resemblance
between any real person...

living or dead,
is purely coincidental.

You want more?

Well, the lad doesn't say much,
and when he does...

he finds just the right words
to crush my soul.

Of course I'm crazy about him.

- Last call!
- We'll have two more apiece.

No... you won't.

#

So, honey...
what's next for you?

I am going to call a taxi...

and tell him to take me--

- Let me guess. Sam's place.
- Sam's place.

Exactly.

Can I tell you something?

I told you everything.

You can tell me anything.

I have had a good time
with you, darlin'.

Right entertaining, it was.

But, sweetie...

who the fuck do you
think you're kidding?

What do you mean?

Lana may be three sheets
to the proverbial wind...

but I don't believe a word...

out of your pretty,
straight-ass mouth.

Nighty-night.

Taxis.

Or... I get off in ten minutes.

Gracie--

You don't have to say anything, Roger.

It's been fun.

It's been fun.

Can I buy you a drink?

I already have one.

How about another?

Yo! She'll have another.
I'm gonna have what she's having.

I, uh--
I like your tight body.

It looks like it would
do what I tell it.

What?

- I said--
- No, I heard what you said.

And I'll admit that "What?" was a rather
banal, cliche, non-colorful response.

What I really meant to say was,
"Why don't you do the world
a big, fat, fucking favor...

and crawl back
into your mother's womb?"

Some girls like men
to say things like that to them.

Some girls like men
to take a dump on them.

I'm not either one of those girls.

I love your dirty little mouth.

- This conversation is so over.
- What-- Hey, what's your problem?

What's my problem?
Wow, that is fucking priceless!

You cannot be for real.
Is there a hidden camera around here?

Now, are you a natural redhead?

If you even so much
as think of touching me...

you're gonna find yourself
limping back to your mother's womb.

- I'll take my chances.
- Yeah?

Dude, you okay?

Good one.

Fuck!

- This isn't how it looks.
- Most things aren't.

- Right.
- Joan...

I've been thinkin'.

- And?
- A-And I feel--

- I feel--
- You could have fooled me.

I mean, that you feel.
That you feel anything.

- Okay, now you're being mean.
- You know what, Keenan?

- Pardon me for being an anger ball.
- "An anger ball"?

But a lot has happened to me
in the last few days...

on the emotional roller coaster
which I laughingly call my life.

Hell, a lot's happened to me
in the last few minutes.

So you know what?
Let's just call this the new me.

There was nothing wrong
with the old you.

Man--

You can't treat people
like you treat people...

and then say something
adorable like that.

There's some things about me
you don't know.

I don't know anything about you!

Stop.
Who's going to pay for all of this?

We don't need the depositions now.

I don't do anything for nothing!

- I'll pay him.
- Then I'll be forgiving.

Good. We must go and give
your mother the good news.

And I'll go count my money.

- We're a hit.
- Yeah, well, let's see what the critics have to say.

Hey, who cares
what the critics have to say?

- I do.
- I do.

- Okay.
- I'm sure they'll love it.

It was a good play.

You mean before
I deconstructed it?

Uh, before and after.

I'd say it was the perfect blend
of Moliere and Meredith.

I'm glad you came.

- Last time we saw each other was a bit--
- Yeah, I know.

It didn't quite go
as I had hoped.

You don't have to apologize.

I'm not...
apologizing.

I didn't do anything wrong.

- Oh, and I did, I suppose.
- Uh-huh.

But I've decided
not to let you get away with it.

So, I'm inviting you
to dinner...

at my house.

Tomorrow night, 8:00 sharp.

Don't bring your dog.

You really want
to kiss me, don't you?

- Boy, do I.
- Tell me how much.

- Tell me.
- What's on?

Psycho's going on in ten minutes.

If you're about to say,
"That's the one where the guy
dresses up in his mother's clothes...

and kills people,"
don't bother.

I've already seen this one.
Alone.

I was just wondering when you were
planning on speaking to me again.

I mean, about something
other than Psycho.

It's almost been 24 hours
since we traded barbs.

We don't want to get rusty, do we?

I mean, just how much longer
do I have to wait...

for my next dose of vitriol?

How long have you got?

A good question.

Oh, damn.

On the first date
my husband asked me:

"Gracie... do you dream?"

And I said, "Yes."

From the time I get up in the morning
until I go to bed at night.

You know how they say
the first time is never any good?

Well, with us, it was wonderful.

I never felt so awake.

I had to reassure him that crying
was just my standard reaction...

to tremendous pleasure.

He held me, and he said
that he wanted to make me cry...

for the rest of our lives.

Flash forward 15 years...

and somehow the two of us
became one... and one.

And now I find myself living with
a roommate instead of a husband.

And I have dogs instead of children...

because I can have dogs,
but I can't have children.

And--

Oh, I've forgotten
who blames who for that.

And I haven't cried
in a very long time.

My breaking point
happened this afternoon...

when I picked up my kids
from day care.

With you...

I was spontaneous for the first time
in my entire life.

And I discovered
I'm not very good at spontaneity.

Is there something that you can see
your husband doing...

or saying that would
make a difference?

Sometimes I think it could be as simple
as his asking me to go for a walk.

Um...

anything, so long as it felt
like a start.

Maybe this was your start.

You're a fucking optimist.

That's my job.

This doesn't change anything
about Saturday, does it?

This doesn't change anything
about Saturday.

So, let me take a stab
at Keenan's story.

You had a great love.

The romance of your lifetime.

Totally cosmic, out-of-this-world bond
with little Miss X...

and she left you.

You're not far off.

People get over these things, Keenan.

Hell, I'm getting over these things...
all the time.

Well, it can only be once for me.

You're sweet to believe things
so absolutely...

but you're also full of shit.

You can love again.

I can't.
Any more than you--

- Any more than I can what?
- I don't know.

A-Any more than you
can stop drinking.

- Can I get you another one?
- No, I'm fine. Thanks.

- It was a gin martini, right?
- Vodka, but, really, I've had enough.

- I insist, please.
- Look, pal--

And I mean this affectionately,
all right? Scram.

Where were we?
Oh, yes, I've just given up alcohol...

and you're going to tell me
about the great love of your life.

- Her name was Sarah.
- And she was your first?

Yes.

Look... it's natural
to elevate our first love...

to some sort of
mythic emotional plateau.

But you fell in love, she left you...

and now you're dealing with
love's most common byproduct:

suicidal manic depression.

Right?

- Do you feel better?
- No.

It-- It's hard to talk about.

I have a friend,
a jazz musician, trumpet player.

Really terrific.
I go and hear him jam every month or so.

He plays this piece I love:
an old Chet Baker song.

And he blows the same notes every time,
but every time it sounds different.

And we had drinks one night--
when I used to drink--

and I tried to tell him
how that song made me feel...

how his playing made me feel,
how the music... made me feel.

And he just kept shaking
his head and he said...

"Joan, you can't talk about music.

Talking about music is like
dancing about architecture."

I said, "Well, okay, fine.

Gonna get all philosophical on me.
It's as pointless as talking
about a lot of things.

Love, for instance."

And my friend laughed,
and he said...

"Definitely. Most definitely.

Talking about love is like
dancing about architecture."

So, I don't know.
He might be right.

But it ain't gonna
stop me from trying.

I wish you'd do that
more often: smile.

So do I.

So let me guess. You and Wonder Woman
were together a year?

A year and a half.

And you were faithful to her?

Completely.

And you shared everything.

We-- We shared everything.

That must be nice.

It was...

but...

in addition to sharing
all of those things...

it turns out I was also sharing her...

with a variety of other people.

I hate to say this...

because l-l don't want
to diminish your feelings...

but, sadly, that happens every day.

Those other people shared needles.

She died last year.

But not before sharing...

one final thing with me.

Can I buy you a drink, Valery?

You seem to be so good at this.

Oh, I'm fine in scene class,
on stage.

It's just this improvisational--
I can't do it.

- Hmm.
- At least not like this.

Maybe I'm just better
at pretending I'm someone else.

Well, I gotta go. Um... I'll see you
in class tomorrow for the reports.

God knows what I'll say.

- I won't be there.
- Why?

I, uh-- I like this too much.

- I'm too good at it.
- I don't understand.

I'm better at all these lies
that I've manufactured...

than I am at the lies I'm living.

I have a wife.
Did you know that?

I don't think that
we like each other very much.

Is that something
to smile about?

Well, it's just that my wife--
She, um...

doesn't think that I have
much of an imagination.

If she only knew.

If she only knew a lot of things.

If I only knew a lot of things.

Such as?

Where to start:

with myself...

with my wife.

They got it back.

They got what back?

The police. Your car.

Oh, right. Yeah.

Keenan, listen, I'm--

You don't have to say anything. l-l told
you because I wanted to tell you.

I wanted to because for
the first time in a long time
I wish things were different.

- They can be.
- No, they can't.

Well, none of this means
you can't love.

Joan, it means exactly that.
It doesn't mean anything else.

I don't believe that for a second,
that you can't love.

- I can't.
- Stop saying that.

It's the only thing I can say
to make you understand.

This may sound corny, but--

But you don't want me.

I-I'm damaged goods.

For Christ's sake,
we're all damaged goods.

I'm wandering around through life
with hardly any purpose or goal at all.

I don't know what
I'm doing half the time...

but I know that I can love.

I know that I can love you.
I know that I do love you.

- I won't let you love me.
- Why?

I won't let you love me because...

because I love you.

You love me?

- Can I go?
- No!

Do you know how long I have waited
for somebody I care about...

to say that they love me
and for me to actually believe them?

And if you think you're getting out
of this car, you're insane!

It will never work.

It's already working.

It's working.

I thought--
I thought you didn't cry.

I thought you didn't date.

Surprise, I'm crying...

and this is very much a date.

It's unconventional, perhaps,
but it's the best date I've ever had.

I can't!

No-- Keenan, please!
Please don't go!

Hey!

Hi, buddies.
How are you?

Who's a good boy?
Who's a good boy?

You're home early tonight.

You as well.

Well, inventory's almost over.

How is your improv class?

It finished tonight.

I thought you had
another couple days.

Well, I should say that
I finished tonight.

It wasn't what you had in mind?

Ultimately, no.

Well... I'm sure you'll find
something you enjoy.

I mean, to keep you occupied.

I'm going to try.

Well, as the British say,
I'm knackered.

You know what Saturday is, don't you?

I do.

Okay.

It might be easier if we meet there.

Whatever's easier.

All right. Did you feed the dogs?
You gave them their pills?

Okay. Well, don't forget to turn out
the light before you come to bed.

- I won't.
- Tomorrow's trash day.

There isn't much more
we can do, except ease the pain.

All right.

Ease the pain.

- Mom?
- Yes, honey.

- Mom?
- I'm here.

Wh-Where's Jack?

- He's not here.
- He was just here a minute ago.

- No?
- No.

- It was... you who were here.
- Yes, I'm here.

- You are here, aren't you?
- Yes, I'm here.

Tell me about death.

Remember a long time ago...

when you were still
inside my belly...

and the contractions began?

Well, they're beginning again.

- Read me that story.
- What story?

The one with the rabbit
and the rocking chair.

- Good Night, Moon?
- Yeah.

I like the ending.
Read me the ending.

Good night, comb.

Good night, brush.

Good night, nobody.

Good night, mush.

Good night to the old lady
whispering hush.

Good night, stars.

Good night... air.

Good night, noises...

everywhere.

Do you ever wonder if
while we spend all this time
anthropomorphizing our animals...

maybe they're just
anthropomorphizing us?

Hmm.

I didn't think so.
Who? Keenan?

No. Trust me,
I'll never hear from him again.

Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you,
but I'm fresh out of jokes.

What, is that a rhetorical question?
Why is my life so complicated?

Gee, I don't know.
Why is your life so fucking simple?

Hold on. There's someone at the door.

Well, I don't know until I answer it,
do I? Yeah, I'll ask who it is.

Hold on.
Yeah.

Hi.

Hi.

Um, I'm just on the phone.
I'm gonna wrap it up, okay?

M.C.I.

They're geniuses at tricking you
into conversation.

I can't stop thinking about you.

I love conversations that
start with the guy saying...

"I can't stop thinking about you."

Mind you, I've never actually
been on the receiving end
of any of those conversations.

Just looking at you
makes me happy.

I have--
I have to sit down.

When we're together,
whether or not I show it...

I just can't wait to hear
the next words out of your mouth.

But right now I need to ask you
to do something for me.

Anything.

Shut up.
Just for a moment.

I've been-- I've been thinking about
what you said last night.

I have no idea
why you're so relentless...

particularly, given the arsenal
of defenses I've thrown at you.

But...

no matter how hard I've tried to block
out everything that you've said...

the message has been received.

In a place inside me
that I thought had died.

But it hasn't.

And that place inside me
is alive and well.

I can't make any promises...

but...

I'd like to try and be with you.

It won't be easy,
but I'd like to try.

Can I say something?

You're right.
It won't be easy, but...

that's okay.

I want to be with you, but,
you have to understand, I, um--

- We can't--
- Have sex.

It may not be the conventional wisdom,
but it's the only way I can do this.

At least for the time being.

That's not a problem?

When was having sex
or not having sex not a problem?

To be honest, it's gonna
be difficult not to express
physically what I feel for you...

but...
we can look for other ways.

There's nothing wrong
with holding each other. Hmm?

Nothing at all.

And sleeping with each other.

We can do that.

And... loving each other forever.

What did I ever do to deserve you?

Usually that line is screamed at me
by somebody running out the door...

not standing in front
of me and staying.

It makes for a nice change.

# Lay it down, child #

# Lay it down, child #

# And walk into this room #

Ah, flowers.

How thoughtful.

Whoo. We like the same merlot.

It's actually the very same bottle
that you brought to my house.

Excellent.

Come on in.

Wow.

- You're wondering where dinner is.
- Uh, I must say.

I have a little confession to make.

I invited you to dinner at my house,
but I can't cook.

Oh.

I can order delivery.

All right.

Chinese food is my specialty.

What are we making?

Some hemlock.

Oh, please, don't deprive
the kids of their mother.

- Oh, I'm not making it for me.
- Ah, that's the Hannah that I know.

Well, you seem to know me
a lot better than I know you.

You know that's not true.

Do you remember what you told
the kids about falling in love?

- No.
- Well, I do.

You said that the wonderful thing
about falling in love...

is that you learn everything
about that person, and so quickly.

And if it's true love...

then you start to see yourself
through their eyes...

and it brings out
the best in you...

and it's almost as if you're
falling in love with yourself.

- I said that?
- Mm-hmm.

Well, 25 years ago,
I needed to feel that again.

Feel that I was worth loving.

Because somehow I knew...

that would be my last time
to have that particular feeling.

- You couldn't have it with me?
- Oh, I did have it with you...

but I'd forgotten it.

I hadn't forgotten
why I loved you...

but I'd forgotten
why you loved me.

And Wendy made me remember...

that I was a pretty terrific fellow.

Bully for Wendy.

But I knew that
I couldn't sleep with her.

Why?

Because I would have left you...
and the kids.

What are we thinking?

Hot liquid and facial burns.

Oh.

Remember the day
Wendy left the company...

- and went to Seattle?
- Yes.

I thought for a while
you might go with her.

Me too, but I didn't.

When I came home that day...

I realized that I was
more in love with you...

than ever before.

How did that thunderbolt strike you?

Because I'd made a choice.

I took one look at you...

and I knew I'd made
the right choice.

I know that sounds daft...

but my love for somebody else...

made me love you more...

because I sought...

to reclaim myself.

And, Hannah...

you're still the right choice.

We made a child that day.

We did, indeed.

Our Jo-Jo.

Yeah. We did, indeed.

- Cheers.
- Thank you.

Trent...

I have to tell you something.

Oh, this doesn't begin with
"Trent, you are a nice guy," does it?

- No.
- Whew.

The problem I have with you--

We have problems?

The problem I have with you...

is that I'm attracted to you.

And that's a problem?

It is for me.

It's, um--

Gosh, this is so embarrassing.

What?

Don't be embarrassed.

I don't deal with passion well.

Maybe you don't like
that loss of control.

You prefer to be the director,
telling everyone what to do.

It's pretty painfully obvious,
isn't it?

Somewhat painful, yes.

You know, there's something
you'll find out about me.

What's that?

#

That I take direction pretty well.

# If love is a healer #

# We'll be the first ones healed #

# Lovers will #

# You know, lovers will #

- Trent.
- Yeah?

You're gonna think what I'm about
to say is really ridiculous.

You're worried about Barley,
and you want to go back to your place.

Oh, my God.
This is way fucking spooky.

# Lay it down, child #

# Lay it down, child #

# And walk into this room #

I forgot what it felt like
to be this close to someone.

I have never been
this close to anyone.

We're always gonna be honest
with each other, right?

It's essential.

Um... I have
to confess something.

Shoot.

Um... the night we went to the movies,
and you walked me to my car--

You mean the car
that you pretended was stolen?

You knew?

Joan--

I may have been a basket case that evening...

but I wasn't born yesterday.

I am so embarrassed.

No. No.

Oh-- Oh, well.

#

I so very much love you.

And I love you.

And, Joan?

Yes, Keenan.

In time... I may even get
to like this mangy cat of ours.

She's got her eye on you.

And that's her good one?

# Lay it down, child #

- # You can #
- # You can lay it down, child #

# And walk into this room #

I think this is gonna work.

Yeah?
Why is that?

- Because on an intimacy scale...
- Mm-hmm.

having somebody watch me
brush my teeth...

is right up there with seeing me
on a Sazerac swing...

and I'm not minding it.

Hmm?

This had better be good.

Oh--

Uh... I'll catch
the first flight out.

Mildred.

You don't know what it means to me,
for you to be here.

He was my first love.

And my last.

Next to Jack.

Did you know him?
Jack?

He was good for Mark.

Well, I would have liked
to have known him.

I guess you all thought
I couldn't handle it.

Until just a week ago...

I still harbored the fantasy that
you and he would get together again.

We had some nice talks
before he died.

I'm glad we had those talks.

I felt like his mother again.

I'll never know
everything about Mark...

but I know some things about him now
that I never knew before.

I don't think we need to know everything
about the people we love.

Yeah. Hello?

- Trent?
- Hey.

How are you?

I'm good.

I was, uh-- I was just calling in
for my messages.

What are you doing there?

Oh, I, uh--

I took Barley over to my house...

and I don't think he liked it.

Actually, I'm sure he didn't like it.
He peed all over my stuff.

So... I came back here.

I'm glad.

How was everything where you are?

In its own way,
it was quite beautiful.

- Trent?
- Yeah?

Is it too late to say,
"I love you"?

It's early.

She's coming back tomorrow.

And then sleeping arrangements
will definitely be revised.

Come over later.

I don't--
I don't know if I'm up to it.

Well, think about it, Mildred.

I'd love to have you there.

I'll think about it.

Mom?

- Mom?
- Yes, out here, Meredith.

Make three--

Three times as many seems reasonable.

- Hello, sweetheart.
- Hi. Hi.

That sister of yours was
supposed to be here an hour ago
to help me with all this.

And here she is,
looking fabulous I might add.

I'm so sorry I'm late.
What can I do?

You can put on a bra,
and then you can do everything else.

Oh, it's not like
you were any help.

- Why, you know my play was opening.
- I know.

That's right. Your father has the review
on the refrigerator already.

Mr. Crabby from the Times
gave it a rave. Congrats.

- You mean you read it?
- I'm proud of my younger sister.

Now to work. Believe it or not,
I have worn these fingers to a frazzle.

Speed dialing is so strenuous.
I've taken care of the caterers...

the flowers are being arranged
as we speak, and I've hired a minister.

You did tell him to go easy
on the God stuff, hmm?

Yes, Daddy.

Gracie, Gracie, Gracie.

The other bearded one
will barely get a mention.

All right.

Ah, my Meredith.

You know, we do have to change.

Well, if I have to wear a tux,
she has to wear a bra.

Inside.

- I never knew what happiness was until I married your mother...
- Just march.

and by then it was too late.

You are so--

Now, listen. I put you in a seat
next to Hugh and me because I figured...

you might be coming alone and--

Yeah, well, you might have to do
some rearranging because, um...

because I have a date.

We'll change fast.

You know
you're gonna tell me every single thing.

Mom, Dad...

this is Trent.

- Hi.
- It's a pleasure, Trent.

- It's a pleasure to meet you. Congratulations.
- Hello.

- Thank you.
- Hi. I'm the older married sister.

- Hi.
- Sorry. Gracie.

I see what you mean.
Okay, we better get started.

- We're 20 minutes behind
and the minister has another service.
- We can't go without Jo-Jo.

- Moi.
- Oh! Now we can.

- Hi, sweetheart.
- Mom, you look beautiful.

- Thank you. You're forgiven for being late.
- Thank you.

Dad, wow.

Forty years ago,
he wore jeans to our wedding.

You should have heard the fuss
he made this time...

when he found out
he had to wear a tux.

What an anger ball.

Oh, Mom, Dad, everybody...

- this is Keenan.
- How do you do, Keenan?

- Very good, sir.
- Good to meet you, Keenan.

- Nice to meet you.
- Champagne. Jo-Jo?

- Um... I'm okay.
- Oh.

Keenan and I are just gonna
have a couple Cokes or something.

Keenan, did I tell you
how very good it is to meet you?

Funny.

Hannah and Paul have asked
their family and friends...

to join them here today
in their home...

to reaffirm their wedding vows...

40 years since the first time.

#

What's this?
No applause?

Don't they realize what a miracle
40 years of marriage is?

Probably not, but I do.

#

Hannah and Paul,
you come here today...

to repledge your love,
your undying love.

A love that has lasted many years...

and will go on lasting, I'm certain,
many years more.

You stand here today
before God...

your family and friends
to celebrate...

to reaffirm your lasting love
for each other.

Hannah and Paul have asked
to keep the ceremony simple...

and to that end they each set
a challenge for the other:

to find a sentence that best describes
their feelings for the other.

Hannah? Paul?

You are the tenant of my heart...

often behind in the rent...

but impossible to evict.

If I had to do it all over again...

I wouldn't do it...
any different.

#

Mildred, I'm so sorry.

#

- So, that's who I stole your V.W. for, huh?
- Yeah.

Thank you.

- And you thought it wasn't gonna work out.
- Yeah.

#

That was really...
beautiful.

It was.

Yes, it was.

Think we'll be having
a fortieth wedding ceremony?

I don't know, Hugh.

Would you like to think so?

I don't know, Hugh.

- Hey.
- Hello.

Hi.

- How did you like that improv class?
- That was... interesting.

I think it's so cool to pretend to be
somebody else every night for a week.

I took it twice.

This is Keenan, by the way.

Hi. Hugh.
I'm, uh, married to Gracie here.

Hugh designs video games.

- Any I'd know?
- Um, "Killer Golf." That was the last.

Oh, man, that game was awesome.

You have a hell of an imagination.

Hey, you owe me a dance.

- Just one?
- No.

Gracie...

would you like to dance?

Yes. Yes, I would.

#

You know, I can't think
of a better way to meet your family.

Other than maybe dropping a bookshelf
on their heads.

#

They look so perfect together.

#

They look so perfect together.

Just like we do.

Ow!

Sorry. Now you know the real reason
why I like to dance alone.

It's okay.
You can step on my feet anytime.

Just, you know, next time I'll wear
some steel-toed shoes or something.

#

#

What are we thinking?

If only they knew
what we know.

Then it would be all too easy.

- The trumpet player--
- Hmm?

- Your friend?
- Yeah.

The one who said talking about love
is like dancing about architecture.

Mm-hmm.

Well, what do you say
we prove him wrong?

#

I think we already have.

#

#

# Don't let 'em get to your heart #

# They'll leave you damned and swimming
in a lake when it's only a garden #

# The whole wide world feels like
a shrine built to the worker bees #

# Who stole it from God anyhow #

# Lay it down, child #

# Lay it down, child #

# And walk into this room #

# Don't let 'em get to your spark #

# That little light in the back
of everything that sizzles #

# It's a full night of love #

# The whole wide world feels
like a clan of mad scientists #

# Removing the genes #

# So they can freeze-dry you
and put you in a box #

# Lay it down, child #

# Lay it down, child #

# And walk into this room #

# All made with love for you #

# Lay it down, child #

- # You can #
- # You can #

# Lay it down, child #

# And walk into this room #

# Oh #

# A hundred candles to make the walls #

# Come alive #

# A little frankincense
to soothe the air just right #

# Now take my hand #

- # And open the door #
- # And open the door #

# Oh, yeah #

# Oh #

# Oh, yeah #

# Oh #

# Lay it down, child #

- # You can #
- # You can #

# Lay it down, child #

# And walk #

# Into this room #

# Walk into this room #

- # Lay it down, child #
- # Just lay it down Lay it down #

# Lay it down #

# Lay it down
Lay it down #

# Into this room #

#