- The piano guy, what's his name? - Greg.
Greg.
Was he flirting with you the other day?
I don't know what you were thinking marrying him.
Roger.
You've said it many times, "Davina is wasting her life.
She could have had anyone. Al is a drip."
Happily married is a completely meaningless phrase.
- How's your mother? - Oh, in and out.
I'm going to see her on Friday just in case.
- You've been through this before. - It's her fifth stroke.
Weren't you supposed to drop everything and pick a casket? Come on!
Think about what you just said
and you tell me who you think is being unreasonable.
You are! This is hard on me. You have no idea.
- Look. No. - You have no idea.
- It is difficult for me too. - Oh, please.
Ron... Veronica, it doesn't matter.
- It matters to me. - No. Do whatever you want.
I'll take care of it. It's fine.
- Don't patronize me. - I just wanted to give you
- an opportunity to be involved. - Sure. Sure, you say that.
It's incredibly painful.
And I can't turn my head to the right. See?
Ah! Ah! That's...
Any pain or numbness in your arm?
- No. - I don't think
it's a disc problem. Could be stress.
Any new miseries in your life?
No, not really. No.
Well, it's not me, but this has been
a very hard time for Davina, of course,
with her mother dying.
And she's not really talking to me.
I mean, she's busying herself arranging the visitation
and the funeral, etcetera. She's doing it all.
Her sister's absented herself and...
Well, dav's not really processing her mother's death.
And I'm afraid that in the end, the full weight of it
is gonna hit her, and she'll do something crazy.
Al, Al, I'm happy that you're unburdening,
but I must warn you, if we go any deeper,
I'll have to charge you for psychiatric counselling.
- Oh, ok. - I'm sorry. I know it's stupid.
All I'm saying is that she's the one who's suffering.
I'm fine.
I mean, there has been no sex, so...
- That's probably it. - No, I don't...
it explains the pain.
Your body's reacting to the stress.
And you don't have the benefit of regular orgasms
- to relieve that stress. - Yes, but she's in mourning.
People don't have sex when they're in mourning.
Nonsense! The Italians do it all the time.
Look, I suggest that you do something
to "brighten" your wife's mood and thereby
increase the likelihood of intercourse.
Buy her flowers.
Or a new hat or something. And in the meantime,
we'll work on those spasming muscles in your neck.
Yeah, I want you to come in for therapeutic touch.
- What's that? - Well, that's like a massage,
except I don't actually touch you. The name is misleading.
Well, I'm willing to try anything at this point.
Well, good. Now, you go take care of that wife of yours
and bring some colour into her life. You'll see.
You'll be back on top of her in no time.
Ok. Thank you.
S01E05 Not The Haitian Corpse
resync by Rapunzel @addic7ed.com
- On a break? - What?
- From work. - Oh, yes!
Yes, I, uh...
I took a little walk to clear my head,
and then I thought, "ah, I wonder how Davina's doing."
- A little walk? - Yes.
From Bay Street? That's... strange place you've got here.
Gallery with no art.
Or is this some sort of installation?
The absence of art is the art.
We're between shows. We change once a month.
Oh. Nice.
Fresh start.
Tabula Rasa.
- My wife's mother just died. - Uh-uh.
And I want to do something to brighten her world a bit.
- It's pretty bright now. - No, no, I'm talking
about a colour. I have this crazy idea.
I want you to paint
- this one wall. Crazy, right? - Not really.
I want this one wall to stand out from the rest. I want it to glow.
- So, like off-white? - No. I want a colour.
- Like beige? - No. I want colour.
I want life. Some bright, shiny colour
that will make someone whose mother just died happier.
- Can you do that? - I think I can't do that with paint.
Trevor, this will work. Trust me. Just give me
a bright, shiny, happy splash of colour.
This is your canvas; Make a statement.
- Shiny? - Yes!
Like an oil-based enamel.
It's tough to clean up though, and I'll need to sand the walls.
Yes, I can hear the wheels turning. Very exciting.
Mom was sick for so long; It wasn't exactly a shock.
- How's Veronica? - Well, she's upset.
I know. It's funny.
I didn't think that she cared about mom, to be honest.
- She never visited her. - Well, she's upset about...
lots of things.
Uh...
Roger,
is there something else you want?
Uh... yes.
Yes, there is.
As I said, Veronica's upset right now... generally,
and I thought I could cheer her up
by making her a collage of photos from a happier time.
The last time we had fun actually.
Remember the grease trip?
- When did you go to Greece? - Just a couple of weeks ago.
Remember Veronica's birthday?
Oh, the musical! Oh, I thought you meant the country.
I was confused when you said fun.
So, here are the photographs
from that memorable evening.
And I was just wondering...
if you could arrange them...
artistically.
Put them in a frame.
Sure.
May I see them?
Yes. Yes, of course.
Now...
I like this one.
And this, and this.
And this is like Caravaggio.
The light, isn't it?
That one's beautiful.
And this...
You have... beautiful cheekbones.
Thank you.
Ah, dearest darling, just in time!
The stew is simmering. The wine is breathing.
- What happened to the wall? - Don't look, it's a surprise.
- What do you mean? - Something nice, you'll like.
Are you, are you painting? What?
- Why would you paint one wall? - It's a surprise!
- Don't look. - I don't like surprises.
They just jump out at you and scream and wreck your day.
Sorry to hear that, because here's another little surprise:
Orlando's here. He's in the bedroom.
- Really? - Well, he needs your help.
I tried, but he needs you. Sorry.
And help him quickly, because dinner is almost ready.
I never go to these things, you know?
I mean, this is the exact reason I avoid them altogether.
- Because you don't have a suit? - Yeah, exactly.
Not because they're depressing.
Death is no more depressing than life, mother.
Jesus Christ!
Dad is trying pathetically hard
to look young and stylish. I mean,
I thought one of his retro-blend jackets would look normal on me.
You know, somebody who's actually young, but...
Boy, does it ever emphasize the desperation.
- I bought him that. - Really?
- Hmm. - You still buy his clothes?
Ha-ha! Ha-ha! Well, I guess that makes sense.
You know, you don't have a grandson to spoil.
If you say the word sperm, dodo, I'll scream.
Let's just get through this, ok? - Ok.
That's not bad.
- Do you have a white shirt? - Yes, I have a white shirt.
Every corporate drone has a white shirt.
Ok. Now, we'll just find you a nice tie.
Ha! There's no such thing as nice ties.
They're a cruel symbol of compliance and defeat.
Why the hell does dad have so many ties?
He never wears them.
To him, they're just some hilarious novelty
'cause he's never actually had a real job except...
Orlando, stop talking.
This visitation is not about you.
No one will be judging you. It's about granny.
She's the one you should be thinking about.
She's the one you're dressing up for.
I'm not dressing up for her. She's dead. The dead can't
- see anything, mother. - Who are you doing it for?
I'm doing it for you.
Well...
Ok, then.
Let's try something thin to match the lapels.
- I'm not... I can... - I can do it.
Lots of bad energy here, around your shoulder.
- And you can feel it? - Oh, yeah.
And, uh, that's different from good energy, how?
Well, it's like I can feel
a colour in my fingers.
Good energy is a certain colour and...
bad energy is a certain colour.
Good energy is white?
Hmm... yellowish white.
And bad energy is black?
- Blackish. - Uh.
And you can see this with your fingers?
Can... can you see other things with your fingers?
Can you read with your fingers?
You're right.
It's all bullshit.
Some people feel better when I wave my hands over them,
but it's just a placebo effect.
I feel guilty charging people for this.
- But still you do. - I could give you codeine
for the pain, but then you'd be groggy and constipated.
- Any sex yet? - No, I haven't had an opportunity.
Then, I recommend getting high.
- What? - Get high, Al.
Getting high will relax your muscles
and give you a temporary feeling of euphoria.
I also find that it's helpful to the...
to the grieving process. The afterlife seems
like an entirely reasonable proposition
when you're high.
What are you saying to me exactly?
I'm telling you to smoke a joint. Twice a day.
Once before dinner to enhance the flavour
of the meal and again before bedtime.
And feel free to muse about God,
but don't operate heavy equipment or vote.
I'm not gonna write this down for obvious reasons.
- Right. - Well...
If you need to score some, I know a guy.
No, no, I know a guy too.
So, where are you going to put it?
In the downstairs bathroom, so that every time I go in there, I can see...
Roger, please, let's just leave it at that, ok?
Goodbye.
Davina, there's something I need to tell you.
- Roger, really, there isn't. - Yes, there is.
- No, there isn't. - Yes, there is.
The thing is, in the past...
Roger, really, I...
Please, it's difficult, but I really need to tell you.
In the past, I've had the feeling...
- That you didn't really like me. - Roger, look, I...
You were right. I was dismissive and patronizing.
I realize that now.
I've realized a lot of things lately,
but the most important thing I've realized
is that I've been blind.
I couldn't see
that there were other possibilities,
that the life I'm living
isn't the only one available to me,
that our time on this earth is limited.
We've all been reminded of that recently.
Now, I believe
that you and I have the same soul,
and I wanted to tell you...
- Ah... - ...that I've decided
to open myself up to new discoveries.
- No... - The whole thing is so new
and potentially embarrassing. If we could just please
keep it in the family for now
as I take my first steps
into the unknown, you know,
with you.
- Oh, this... - Just thought you might need some help.
Thought the place might be full of customers
because bell's been ringing constantly
- for the last 10 minutes. - Sorry.
Roger, go home.
I really need to talk about this.
- Roger, go home! - I'm...
Go. Go home.
Are you ready for tomorrow?
As ready as a person can be
to go into a room full of flowers
and stare at a box with your mother in it.
Well, at least, you picked a nice box.
I'm glad you went with the walnut.
Hm.
- Al, I'm... - I know. I'm just... I wasn't.
I just thought, I just thought if you wanted to,
maybe it would be nice. For you, it's not for me.
- I'm just not in that place. - I know, I know. No, no.
I know. Of course. Me neither. Me neither.
How's your neck?
Uh... oh, not good.
Dr. Cass said I should smoke pot.
What? Why?
Well, he said, the muscles are in spasm,
because of the stress and the... the frustration.
And pot will help.
It's all very strange. I mean, I'm a rationalist.
I put a lot of faith in medical science,
so for my doctor just to turn to me
and say, "hey, if I was you, I'd get high,"
I mean, it's kind of shaken my convictions.
What are you reading?
Oh, it's, uh, things your doctor doesn't tell you.
- Yeah, you should get high. - I should get high, yeah.
Tada!
- Red? - Yes!
Oh, I see you picked the photo.
- Blood red? - Uh, no, I think
it's called poppy. Which photo did you pick?
- Looks like blood. - Well, it will dry darker.
Blood does that too.
Well, it's vaguely blood-like now, I admit, but I think...
Al, seriously, why would you choose the day
of my mother's visitation to cover the walls with blood?
Look, my dearest darling, the place looks like a lab.
There's no colour. There's practically no furniture
except for the Italian couch-like thing.
It's dark and lifeless, not the best place to grieve.
And I just thought I'd liven it up a bit.
Now, can you understand?
And in my defence, Trevor picked the colour.
Oh, it's Roger.
- What's he doing here? - I don't know, but I'm not.
- What? - I'm not here.
- Hello. - Hi.
Wow! Look at you. You've got a...
May I speak with Davina, please?
Uh, no, she's... she's not in.
Didn't I... I saw her just walk into the building.
- I don't think so. - I did. Just now.
No. Oh! No, that was the downstairs neighbour.
She looks just like Davina. Irene. They dress alike.
It's bizarre. Davina's out. Anything I can do for you?
No. Uh, yes.
Michael's coming in from Hong Kong for the funeral,
and, uh, I've got his shoes.
He's staying at a hotel downtown, so I'm just wondering if I could leave them
with you for him so he doesn't have to go all the way up to Forest Hill.
Ok. Well, we're coming back here after the visitation.
We could see him. What is he? President of
Transglobal Agritech Inc.?
CFo of North Asia and Eurasia.
- Wow! Like father, like son. - Hmm.
- So, uh... - Davina's not here?
No, she's not.
Oh, those are very impressive.
What are they? Handmade?
Do you, do you want to come in?
- You can see... - No, no, no, no.
- So Davina's at the gallery? - Probably, yes.
Well, that's disappointing.
So... bye, I guess.
- Bye. - Bye.
- Are you hiding? - Sort of.
- What's going on? - I don't know.
I... I think he's got a lot on his mind.
- Yes, he was wearing a jaunty brocade cap. - Oh, God, really?
Yes, he was, but that doesn't explain this.
- What he...? What he...? - He's...
He's just scaring me a bit right now.
Oh, look at that wall!
Ok, look, I admit it looks like blood
when it first goes on, but that's because it's lighter
when it's wet. Do you see the difference?
Oh! You got... You got blood on those shoes.
Ah... ah...
Trevor? Trevor? Shit.
- Yeah? - There's blood, uh...
- paint on the shoes. - Yeah.
- Well, take it off. - Doesn't come off.
What do you mean, it doesn't come off? Everything comes off.
Not oil-based enamel. Told you earlier, it doesn't come off.
- Well, why did you use it then? - 'Cause you said you wanted a shiny wall.
I meant metaphorically shiny. Please, there must be something you can do.
These are insanely expensive shoes, and they belong
- to the son of a complete asshole. - Maybe Varsol.
Varsol! Yes, please. Thank you. I need them by tonight,
and remember, you chose the paint,
so you're somewhat to blame.
Shit.
Davina?
- Are you ok? - Yeah.
- Hi, cousin Bob. - How are you?
Thanks for coming.
- Just milk. - He sends his best.
- I just want to... - Dad, stop.
Just a moment, you should get up.
I don't know half these people.
So, um, we should talk.
Not... not today obviously, but...
but soon about what to do with mom's things. I...
I don't know if you want anything.
I've gone through some of the photos.
Oh...
Oh. Oh, dear!
It's good to cry.
It's ok.
Oh, mom... mom...
Mom loved you very much.
Ok.
Ok...
Oh, dear, so many tears.
Well, it's good. It's good.
It's a little surprising. I never thought...
This... isn't about mom, is it?
No!
This is not about mom!
I envy mom!
She's the lucky one!
She escaped.
I can't.
I gotta go.
You!
Roger, what you are doing is wrong.
It is wrong and it is impossible.
- I am telling you that right now! - Is it?
It is. You saw Veronica. She is a raving mess.
I hope that you made it clear that I had absolutely nothing to do with this.
She knows. This came from inside me.
Roger, I know that life is difficult.
I know that what you want and what you have
aren't always the same thing, but that's life, Roger.
You don't just throw everything away
- because you need a change. - I know you're right,
but I can't deny what I feel inside.
What am I supposed to do? Ignore it?
It's like I just woke up, Davina.
I'm seeing things clearly for the first time.
Everything that went before is just a bad dream.
What am I supposed to do? Go back to sleep?
- Ah! - I can't.
I won't.
Jesus.
Whoa, that man is really in love with you, huh?
Not now.
Oh, it's...
Was that you? I thought...
I... have these delusions sometimes.
- My condolences. - Ya.
You've got to have talent, sure,
but you have to have a plan and follow through.
There's nothing sadder than wasted talent.
- No, there's not. - You see, my father
quizzed me with flash cards all through grade school.
Ok, well... well, that's...
that's really disappointing. I won't lie.
Yeah. Oh yeah, I know. I know, I know. Ok.
Well, thank you anyway. Ok, goodbye.
Trevor couldn't clean the shoes?
He melted them. He tried Varsol,
that didn't work. And then he tried a heat gun
and turned them into...
very expensive elf shoes basically,
so I told him to toss them. What do I do now?
- You tell Michael what happened. - I tell Michael,
he tells Roger, and that becomes the content
of every conversation for the next two years.
I wouldn't worry about Roger. He's gone insane.
Just tell Michael that he's gonna have to live
with one less pair of handmade shoes.
- Oh, God! - Come on.
- Get it over it. - He gave me confidence
and everything I needed to succeed.
Wow! My dad didn't give me anything,
- not even sperm. - Ok, um,
this is what happened.
Um, your father came here with some of your shoes.
- My Ferdanos. Bring 'em up. - Yes, that's it.
That's the tragic
and, arguably, funny part of the story.
Uh, we had a guy here
- to paint the wall. - Blood red, what's with that?
It was a choice. Anyway, um...
This guy, he splashed
paint all over your shoes
and, uh... melted them
- trying to remove it. - Oh, shit!
- Yes. - Oh, shit! Where are they?
- Don't know. He threw them out. - Oh, shit!
- I know. - My stash was in those shoes.
Your what?
There was a quarter ounce of pot stuffed inside.
I don't care about the shoes; I just wanted to get high tonight.
Wait. What?
I'm really upset about granny and pot helps me grieve.
Oh! Michael, no problem.
I, uh...
Theodore!
Come on up!
She's with us.
I can feel it. She never left.
If you guys want me to play some Pink Floyd,
you know, so we can fully embrace this clichee.
This is doctor's orders. A doctor ordered me to do this.
It's fine, dad. You're a poseur, so it fits.
I'm just... I'm having a little trouble processing
- Michael though smoking weed. - I lead a stressful life.
I need to relax. You should relax.
Ok, fine. Thank you for the advice. But aren't you worried,
you know, if your dad finds out or something?
He'd be the first to join in. If anyone needs to relax,
it's him. He lost his job.
- What? - What?
And now he wants to be an artist.
- What? - What?
- Out of character, right? - Uh, yeah.
What happened? He was doing so well.
A little too well evidently.
He's being investigated for embezzlement.
Jesus!
This makes me so happy.
Nice, dad. Way to take the high road.
- But seriously, thank God. - Mom!?
No, that he wants to be an artist.
I thought something else was going on.
- What? - Well, you know,
he came by the gallery and I...
...I thought that he was...
hitting on me.
- What did you think? - Well, you know,
he was there, and he was acting all coy and weird, so I thought...
And you thought he was attracted to you?
- Yes, I thought... - But...
Yeah, but you didn't tell me.
Jesus! These moments,
they come along so rarely, you know, learning
that your arrogant, condescending brother-in-law
is a fraud. But I can't enjoy it.
- No, I can't enjoy it. - Why?
Why? Ok. Why? Ok.
Why? Ok. Roger hits on you,
and you hide it from me, right?
The piano guy hits on you,
and you say you don't see the signs.
Did you ride on his bike?!
Robert fucking Ringwald hits on you,
and what do you do? You go to the playground with him.
Of course! You decide to go
for a little swim with him. Davina, what is going on?
- Al... - I mean, are you so attractive
that men can't control themselves around you?
I mean, you're attractive, yes, but you're not a witch, right?
You don't have magic powers? I mean, it has to be both ways!
- Al, please... - I mean, what...
what are you looking for that I can't give you?
Huh? What?
Or is this just menopause? Is that it?
Or is this some hormone-induced madness?
Or is this just what happens after 30 years of marriage?
Is that it?! Is that why we're not having sex?!
I mean, honestly, I'm asking you,
what the fuck is going on, Davina?
Ah...
You know, that pain in my neck...
is gone. It's gone.
resync by Rapunzel @addic7ed.com