Original subtitles

Hey, Judith.

Oh, there's the rock star.

Ready for a fun weekend?

Leave me alone.

Musicians.

Alan, that child is driving me insane.

Like father, like son, huh?

Really, that bad?

He's been sullen and uncooperative for days.

I think he needs to see someone.

What-what, you mean like a, like a shrink?

No, Alan, I mean like a blacksmith.

This is clearly a reaction to our divorce.

He's not processing his emotions in a healthy way

and I think therapy could help unblock him.

Where did you get that?

From my therapist.

Who's working wonders with you.

Excuse me?

Who's working wonders with you.

( "Smoke on the Water" guitar riff plays )

All he does is sit in his room

and play that damn thing.

He's isolating, Alan.

That doesn't mean he needs a therapist.

He's just a normal 11-year-old kid

who happens to be a little grumpy.

And I'm a normal 35-year-old mother

who happens to be running out of patience.

And by patience I mean Prozac.

Wait a minute.

You can't still be 35 because...

Hey, he's getting pretty good at that.

Yeah, well, get used to it.

( playing continues )

( playing continues )

( kissing in sync with guitar riffs )

Charlie...

what are you doing?

"Smoke on the Water."

* Men, men, men, men, manly men, men, men... *

* Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh... *

* Men, men, men, men, manly men *

* Ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ohh, ooh-ooh *

* Men, men, men, men, manly men, men, men *

* Men, men, men, men, manly men, men, men *

* Men. *

( "Smoke on the Water" guitar riff continues )

Okay...

it's not cute anymore.

Make him stop.

You're the one who bought him the guitar, Charlie.

The bed is vibrating so much up there

I'm no longer necessary.

Well, I'm sorry my son's interrupting

your afternoon debauchery,

but I think he's upset about something.

What's he upset about?

I don't know.

I was just giving him a little space

before I talked to him.

You want me to talk to him?

Sure, and I'll finish for you upstairs.

This is a father's job.

Tell him I just need, like, 20 minutes.

( playing continues )

Can I come in?

Hey, it really sounds like you've got your mojo working.

But-But let's, let's try to turn it down now, okay?

What'd you do that for?

Uh, because I love you

and I don't want that to change.

So, um, how was your week?

Okay.

Anything, uh, I need to know?

Anything bothering you?

No.

You sure?

'Cause it seems like something's bothering you.

Okay, you want to know what's bothering me?

Yeah, yeah.

People keep on asking me what's bothering me.

Okay, I won't ask.

Good.

You know, when I was your age...

Aw, man.

Okay, forget that.

Um, problems at school?

No.

Problems with Mom?

No.

Because I understand that there's some things

a guy doesn't want to talk with his mom about.

Like what?

Well, you know, uh, girl problems, or, uh,

somebody's picking on you, or, uh,

you're the only guy in gym class

without hair on his testicles.

She sobered up on you, huh?

No, I'm just being a good host...

Yeah, a little bit.

Man.

You figure out what his problem is?

No, but we determined mine was late onset puberty.

You were a Mexican Hairless, weren't you?

Did you check to see if he's constipated?

Berta, his mother and I are going through a divorce

and there's a lot of emotions he hasn't processed.

Maybe so, but there's also a lot

of string cheese he hasn't processed.

You know, Judith thinks he needs

to see a therapist.

Why, 'cause it's working so good for her?

Hey, Charlie, that's uncalled for.

Come on, the kid's problem is he's 11.

He can't drive, he can't drink,

and his mother picks out all his clothes.

Be thankful he's not in the garage

biting the heads off of chickens.

But this isn't like him.

Trust your first instinct.

Just give him a little space

and probably by this time tomorrow...

( guitar riff plays )

...I will have killed him.

( playing continues )

Not bad.

But why don't you try fretting

the E and the A string together?

I like my way.

Cool.

Hey, what did you do that for?

Look, I'm really happy you've taken up an instrument,

and I'll be even happier when you learn an actual song.

But right now, let's just take a little pause for the cause.

What do you want?

Nothing, I just thought

we could hang out.

Couple of musicians taking five.

Just chillin'.

Nothing's bothering me.

That's cool.

I'm not trying to harsh your mellow.

It's just, I know that there are certain things

a guy doesn't want to talk to his parents about.

Like what?

Oh, I don't know.

Peer pressure. Bullies.

Skipping class to drive to Tijuana

with the school nurse.

I'm telling you,

my youngest once ate a whole can of Play-Doh.

Stopped her up for two weeks.

Berta, please.

Finally pooped out an ashtray.

Berta.

That's the day I quit smoking.

Any luck?

The little snothead kicked me out of his room.

Welcome to the club.

Yeah, but I'm the cool uncle.

Oh, and I'm the uncool dad?

Don't get defensive.

You did the best you could.

Hey, hey, that kid has nothing to complain about.

He's never been spanked,

he's never even been yelled at,

and even while my marriage was collapsing

he always came first.

Well, I'm glad you're not defensive.

He has a great life.

He gets everything he wants.

I deny him nothing.

Oh, my God, what have I done to my son?

Alan, I was kidding.

You're a terrific father.

You think so?

Yes, I do.

You know what? You're right.

I'm always too quick to blame myself.

Yes, you are.

It's his mother's fault.

That-a-boy.

Would you like me

to make you a snack, Jake?

I'm not hungry.

You sure? We've got some pizza left from dinner.

Alan, ease up.

He said he's not hungry.

You'll eat when you want to, right?

Would you please not talk? I'm trying to watch.

Shh.

This show is stupid.

You're right.

Here, you pick something.

Thanks.

Cool uncle.

Stupid. Stupid.

Boring. Stupid.

Seen it.

Stupid. Stupid.

Stupid.

Really stupid.

Stupid.

Dumb. Stupid.

All right.

Pick a stupid show and live with it.

Forget it. I'll just go to my room.

Jake, wait.

Nice going, cool uncle.

Oh, now it's my fault?

Let me tell you something.

Between you and your wacko wife

I'm an oasis of normality around here.

Charlie?

Are you ever going to come back upstairs?

I'm still an oasis.

( plays guitar riff )

Morning.

Morning.

Did your guest leave?

No, she's sleeping in.

Please do not let me forget again.

Perhaps you should put a Post-It note on your penis.

But then I'd have to take down the sign for the yard sale.

Hey, buddy, I made silver dollar pancakes.

I'm not hungry.

They're your favorite.

I said no.

You know what I was thinking?

Maybe later we could have a jam session.

You on guitar, me on piano.

I'd rather watch cartoons.

Hey,

what is your problem?

Charlie, calm down.

No, I'm sorry, but when I was his age

I had to walk five blocks in the rain

to have a jam session.

Well, yelling at him isn't going to help.

I was thinking that maybe the three of us

could go out and do something fun today.

You want fun?

Let's take him to the Rose Bowl swap meet

and see what we can get for him.

( knocking )

Or we could be patient,

and maybe he'll eventually tell us

what's bothering him.

Where's my grandson?

Or we could scare it out of him.

Granted, I don't know what it's like

to be an 11-year-old boy,

but I do know one thing, sweetheart.

You have no idea what real unhappiness is.

Real unhappiness is being totally ignored

by the very people you gave birth to.

Real unhappiness

is when you're recovering from liposuction

and your only grandson

doesn't even send you a get-well card.

And FYI, I only had that surgery

so you wouldn't have a grandmommy

with matronly upper arms.

Well, if he didn't need a shrink before,

he needs one now.

I'm telling you, you're spoiling the kid.

I didn't have a shrink when I was Jake's age,

and my childhood was twice as screwed up as his.

I mean, you're a little cuckoo, Judith...

but compared to our mother,

you're like a fart in a hurricane.

Mom never took you to see Dr. Demerest?

You got to see a shrink?

Oh, just a couple of times.

For the, uh, night terrors, agoraphobia and bed-wetting.

Did it work?

Hey, I can pee outside in the dark.

You be the judge.

You know, Charlie, if you think I'm cuckoo

simply because I want to help my child express his feelings,

well, then I think you have a big problem.

( whistling like a cuckoo )

So, Jake...

how you liking that beanbag chair, huh?

Are you comfy?

It's okay.

'Cause we could sit on the little chairs.

You know, sometimes I like to sit in a little chairs.

It makes me feel like a giant.

( imitating giant ): Hello, Jake.

Well, I can barely see you from up here.

( chortling )

Do you sometimes feel like a small, insignificant person

in a world full of giants?

Not really.

Well, maybe it's just me.

So, anyhow, I was hoping

we could talk for a little bit,

draw some pictures,

maybe play some games.

Do you like puppets?

Not really.

Neither do I.

But sometimes they help when I'm in a bad "mooood."

I hope she gets him to talk about the divorce.

It's a traumatic thing

to see his father kicked out of his house.

It wasn't exactly healthy for him

to see the life being sucked out of his mother.

Excuse me, but that was going on for years,

and he was still a happy little boy.

"He stuck in his thumb and pulled out a..." blank.

Plum, right?

You know, Charlie, it'd be nice

if you took a little responsibility

for Jake's problems.

She's right, Charlie.

Me? What did I do?

You taught him how to gamble.

You brought strange women into the house.

You taught him how to curse in Italian.

Your drinking sets a bad example.

Hey, hey, let's get one thing straight.

I taught him how to curse in Spanish.

Okay, well, Jake and I had a wonderful talk,

and now I'd like to speak with the grown-ups.

Aren't you coming in, Charlie?

No, I'm still trying to find the toothbrush

in the tree here.

Oh, is this Uncle Charlie?

Well, I definitely want

to talk with Uncle Charlie.

( sotto voce ): Thanks a lot!

Well, please, make yourselves comfortable.

Okay. Well, Jake and I had

a very nice little talk.

I invited him to share his feelings with me

in a confidential, non-threatening context,

and after hearing everything he had to say,

I must tell you very frankly...

Ah, who am I kidding?

I got nothin'.

That's it? $150 an hour for "I got nothin'"?

It's $175, but that's not really the point,

now, is it?

What did he tell you?

Well, he claims nothing's bothering him,

he claims there's nothing wrong,

but when I probed just a little bit,

he told me to "besa mi culo."

See? Spanish.

I hope you're proud of yourself, Charlie.

Hey, he's not a sulky little jerkwad

'cause he learned a second language.

See what my son's been living with?

Only because she threw me out.

What? I have a right to be happy.

Speaking of which, did I leave that girl at the house?

Oh, shut up, Charlie.

Don't tell me to shut up.

I don't even know what he's doing here.

I'm trying to keep your kid

from turning into a neurotic basket case like my brother.

Maybe then he won't marry

the first woman he meets

who's more screwed up than he is.

You were a lousy brother who left me to fend for myself...

Hold on, people.

Even cows know words can hurt.

Jake, you know that even though

your mother and I bicker sometimes,

we will always love you no matter what.

I know.

And honey, you also need to know

that our splitting up

had absolutely nothing to do with you.

I know.

It's just that Mommy has a right to be happy.

Yeah, yeah, he knows.

And, uh, whatever's bothering you,

you know I had nothing to do with it, right?

Yeah.

See?

Can I go to bed now?

Now? Jake, it's only 7:00.

I'm tired.

All right, honey.

I'll come tuck you in before I leave.

Okay, that's a bad sign.

Yeah, it's a symptom of clinical depression.

You would know.

Please. If my kids had gone to bed at 7:00,

I'd have dipped myself in gravy and danced naked on the rooftop.

She does make a hell of a gravy.

( playing bluesy, jazzy riff )

Morning, Uncle Charlie.

Morning.

( playing stops )

Morning, Dad, morning, Berta.

Morning. Morning?

So, Dad, what are we going to do today?

I, uh, I don't know.

Uh, what would you like to do?

I don't know.

Something fun.

Maybe we could jam, Uncle Charlie.

Great.

Hey, Dad, can I eat my cereal down by the TV?

Sure. Thanks.

What happened to him?

If I didn't know better,

I'd swear he got laid last night.

Well, I hope you don't mind but I talked to him

before he went to sleep last night.

What did you say?

I said, uh, "Drink this bottle of prune juice."

You feed him nothing but pizza and pancakes.

It's a wonder his eyeballs are still in their sockets.

( playing "Smoke on the Water" riff )

( adds bluesy, jazzy riff )

Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

Oh, man, not again.

Jake Harper... unplugged.