Original subtitles

**

(bell clanging)

(bell clanging)

(car alarm blaring)

(Mariella sobbing)

Oh, my God!

CHANCE: At the time of my evaluation,

Mariella Franko was 19 months post

a multiple-vehicle road accident

in which her 68-year-old father was killed.

Decapitated.

Help me!

See attached photographs.

Help me!

(screams)

I found Miss Franko to be suffering

from chronic post-traumatic stress disorder

and major depression and recommended

a course of psychotherapy and antidepressant medication.

...required another independent medical examination

and that she refused?

Yes, I am aware of that. However...

Unfortunately, she went on to receive neither...

Conditions of the plan clearly state...

...due to the fact that despite a lengthy appeals process,

her disability benefits were terminated.

(elevator dings)

Patient is a 53-year-old right-handed male.

Status now four years post an embolic stroke,

after which he fell and struck his head on a bathroom counter.

Those close to him say he's changed beyond recognition.

(dog barking in distance)

The patient has repeatedly stated that he will someday

play a major role in a battle

between Satan, Yahweh, and Jesus.

Recently, believing it would cleanse his body

for the coming conflict,

he ingested a mixture of household cleaners,

including bleach, ammonia, and drain cleaner.

(grunts)

CHANCE: As his wife no longer has the resources

to care for him at home, the only alternative

would seem to be long-term residential care.

M.J. is a 42-year-old right-handed female

with several years of college education.

She has only partial recollections of the assault.

What are you doing? What?

Aah!

She spent the last year watching television or staying drunk.

(man coughing)

CHANCE: A group-home placement was found for M.J.,

and a course of medication was recommended.

She did not follow up with either,

and she is presently living on the street.

God damn it.

(intercom buzzes)

Jaclyn Blackstone is a 39-year-old

ambidextrous woman living in Berkeley.

She's referred by the Stanford Neurology Clinic

with complaints of intermittent memory loss,

poor concentration, loss of time.

Mrs. Blackstone. I'm Eldon Chance.

Thank you.

You were saying?

Oh, U.C. San Diego, applied mathematics.

Parents living?

No.

I'm sorry.

And you are married.

Yes. Raymond. Three years.

But we're separated right now.

I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude.

I went over all this at Stanford already.

Why did they send me here?

The doctors at Stanford were unable to locate

an organic basis for your symptoms,

so they asked me to review their findings

and if I agree, which I do, by the way.

So they think I'm crazy, then.

No.

No, this is not saying your symptoms aren't real,

but you're here so that you and I can decide

how best to move forward.

With you?

No, I'm not a treating therapist.

I'm a consulting neuropsychiatrist.

Patients come to me, and I assess them,

then I refer them forward to the appropriate next step --

treatment plans, specialists.

Does that clear things up a little?

Yes.

Okay, well, there are a couple of things

I'd like to know more about.

It says here that you separated from your husband

after he struck you in the face with a jack handle.

In the wake of which, you were unconscious

for a period of at least 30 minutes,

then shortly thereafter,

you became aware of a second personality -- Jackie Black.

Is it possible that this character

was there before, when you were younger?

No. No, she wasn't.

She does things that I don't want to do.

Such as?

My husband, Raymond, is a homicide detective.

Oakland Police Department.

And he's very...

He's not...

(sighs) I had to get away.

Okay.

And ever since, there's these -- these periods

where I can't remember.

And after...

Raymond's always there.

And...

And I know that I've been with him.

(sighs) Even though I don't want to be.

Been with him sexually, you mean.

Yes.

And I never know when it's going to happen.

And I don't know how to make it stop.

And you think that's when Jackie takes over?

(sighs)

I hate the name Jackie.

I hate the name Jackie.

(sighs)

The only person who calls me that is him.

Okay.

Now, I noticed in one of your records that you

had been working with a psychotherapist.

Myra.

Dr. Cohen.

Do you mind me asking why you stopped?

She died.

Oh.

I'm sorry to hear that.

This is Suzanne Simms at Berkeley.

I happen to think she's particularly good

and a good fit for you.

I recommend that she begin psychotherapy.

I also recommend that she work with a female therapist.

Thank you.

(indistinct conversations)

Hey.

Mom told me about school.

I'm sorry, Nick.

I know how much you like Havenwood.

If there was any other option --

How about you just stay with her?

Well, things are complicated.

But there's other good schools.

Marina South blows.

It does.

It does indeed blow.

But there's good schools across the bay in Berkeley.

We don't live in Berkeley.

We don't live in Berkeley now,

but I've been looking into it,

and if I got an apartment there --

We just got one here.

Listen...

This is really difficult for all of us.

But what I want you to know is that I'm doing

everything I can for you, and I always will.

I love you very much.

I know.

This will work out, all of this.

You'll see.

Life sucks.

CHRISTINA: He keeps talking about how the consignment shop

pays less for a bigger space,

so he's at least gonna raise the rent on me.

Yeah, well, we needed to talk about that, so...

You are so sympathetic.

Thanks.

It's not as if you have to give up photography

just 'cause you don't have the studio.

But if I was better at it, then I'd sell more work

and be able to afford the rent all by myself, right?

I would still be paying for both our lawyers.

We still got to sell this house with a double mortgage on it,

and Nicole would still have to change schools,

which I guess you told her.

Yeah, I'm sorry.

If she's not gonna go to Marina South -- She's not.

So, then we needed to figure something out.

And, you know, I didn't want to have to be

the one to tell her.

But if I waited for you to decide to tell her,

I'd be waiting forever.

You know, I don't --

I don't have to wait for you to make up your mind --

about that or about anything else,

for that matter, any more.

Thank God.

I guess I'd better get going.

Thank you for bringing her home.

Look after yourself, Eldon.

Right. But it's not just the lighting.

It's also the paint.

That is -- That is just not financially feasible.

We can't get anything new right now.

Well, I'm sorry, but this can't be the first time

you had clients who had to sell as is.

Okay, well, if the photos need to be redone,

you need to talk to Christina because she took them.

Life does suck, sweetheart.

CARL: No, no, no, no, no! Look at me!

Are you gonna be his bitch now?

Is that the way it's supposed to be? Hm?

Young man...

What news of the Delange collection?

Bookshelf, desk, two chairs.

But there's something missing.

Wow. That's some memory.

Yes, and bits of the metalwork.

Ah. You're a doctor, as I recall.

Psychiatrist. Eldon Chance.

Dr. Chance, how does one forget a name like that.

Carl Allen.

How do you do?

I've recently acquired a cabinet.

Might go well with that set of yours.

I wish.

Thinking of selling what I have.

Divorce. House is up for sale.

Say no more. I'm so sorry.

I have pictures.

Without the metalwork, $50,000, $60,000 -- maybe.

What about with the metalwork?

Just to make me feel bad.

Twice that.

Jesus! Really? Just for a piece of brass?

Mm.

This brass work's not exactly like yours,

but it's not so dissimilar.

It's the same time period and just as delicate.

Wow.

Well, given what you just told me,

this is way out of my price range.

Even if I was buying --

That's not original brass work.

Really?

It didn't have any brass when I found it.

I just saw that there were possibilities.

D, come out here a minute.

(door slides open)

This is D.

D, meet Dr. Chance.

Hey.

Take a look at this.

What do you think?

Sure.

(door slides closed)

A man of few words.

He did this?

Yours, too.

If that's what you want.

You would put it up for sale

with the new brass...

There wouldn't be ways of checking?

Your furniture is signed, as I recall.

That's usually enough.

Did you buy it from a dealer, or was it a private party?

Estate sale.

Private parties are good.

Perhaps I'd better sleep on it.

As many nights as you like.

Mrs. Blackstone?

Eldon Chance.

We met a couple of months ago.

Oh.

Don't you just love this place?

I do, yeah, yeah.

What did you find?

Oh, I'm just hunting ideas.

I like to redo old pieces, give them another life.

You?

Ah.

Yours is fancier than mine.

But then, you are the doctor.

Well, yeah.

No, I just have some furniture like this

that I'm thinking of selling.

Hard to decide?

You have no idea.

Well, don't think too long.

Now, why would you say that?

I don't know.

It just seemed like good all-purpose advice.

You could say it about so many things.

I-I wanted to let you know.

I've been seeing that therapist,

the one that you recommended -- Suzanne.

This may be stupid after only six weeks,

but it's really changed everything.

Great. So, you're feeling better?

Better than I have in a long time.

I've been working again.

What kind of work is it you're doing?

Uh, tutoring, mainly.

Oh, that's right -- math.

Yeah. Since the separation.

Well, I'm glad I bumped into you just now.

So am I. I wish you all the best.

Uh, enjoy your book about your furniture.

And good luck, whatever you decide.

And when did they even do this audit, Dan?

And what does it have to do with me?

DAN: On your end, it's unsubstantiated expenses.

On hers, it's unreported income.

I don't have anything to do with Christina's business

or how she accounts for anything -- or doesn't.

Okay, but you file jointly, Eldon.

And now with back taxes

for the unreported years, plus penalties...

A quarter of a million dollars? Fuck, Dan!

I mean, fuck!

Doc Chance.

Hey, D.

Sorry to interrupt. Is Carl around?

At home.

A little under the weather.

Okay, well...

I guess maybe you're the guy

I need to talk to anyway, to begin.

Uh, do you remember that furniture we looked at

about a month or so ago, that French Art Deco stuff?

I do.

You decide you want to make it right?

(chuckles)

I guess that's one way of putting it.

I-I feel like I'd need to know what it would cost, you know,

if I had to pay for the work up front

or if there'd be some way of settling it

once the stuff is sold.

Payment, you'd have to talk to Carl.

Yeah.

Of course.

But let's say I'm ready.

I get the stuff down here,

I talk payment when Carl is back.

You know, I-I'd need help.

Right now work?

Now?

Uh, yeah, sure.

Uh, I need a truck.

Penske's three blocks down, one over.

Market and 4th.

Okay. Well, uh, you're on.

Mind me -- Mind me asking what that is?

You can ask.

Is it -- Is that a hatchet?

Tomahawk.

What's the difference?

Hatchet's a tool. Tomahawk's a weapon.

Is it for you?

Buddy of mine keeps going back to Afghanistan.

This is what he likes.

Is that where you were?

Use the forge to temper the blade.

You want it thin enough to cut --

hard, but not brittle.

My buddy reports back.

We discuss ways of making it more effective.

The man does like his scalps.

Okay. Well, I'll go see about that truck.

(panting)

You want a glass of water?

You take this.

(grunts)

Let's go.

You wrap it and strap. I'll get the rest.

(horns honking)

MAN: Come on!

-Move it already! -Okay, sorry. Just --

-Come on, let's go! -One minute.

Sorry, sorry. Just...

Get around him!

Let's go! Come on, move it!

Hurry up!

Sorry. Just --

God!

(honking continues)

Get the fuck out of the way!

(honks)

(tires screech)

What the fuck's wrong with you?

Fuck this.

Back up!

(tires screech)

Shit.

That was pretty good back there.

Shit like that makes my day.

(bell clanging)

Friend of yours is in there.

In here?

Yeah.

Suzanne.

How nice.

Won't be in a minute.

Do you remember that last patient you sent me --

Jaclyn Blackstone?

Uh, losing time, memory problems,

claims to have a second personality.

She's been beaten up.

She's at Seton Medical.

The ex?

I can't believe it isn't.

Would you go look in on her?

She's not my patient.

No, but you saw her as one.

You know the staff there. They'll talk to you.

Just -- Just go check on her.

Please, El.

What's Jaclyn saying happened?

Well, she's saying

she surprised an intruder on the patio of her condo.

I suppose that's possible.

Oh, yeah, absolutely.

And let's not rule out alien abduction.

I mean, she was doing so well, and that bastard kept coming.

And she was saying no.

And after, what, seven sessions?

It had to be him.

You got to let me take care of you.

NURSE: (sighs) Orbital blowout fracture on the right side.

No structural damage or bleeding in the brain.

But there is an entrapped muscle,

so they're going to have to go in and relieve the pressure.

When do they plan to operate?

This afternoon with Jellicoe.

Oh, she's lucky. He's good.

Excuse me.

Thank you.

You one of her doctors?

Miss Blackstone?

I'm a neuropsychiatrist.

I was asked to look in on her by her therapist, Suzanne Simms.

You were in her room just now.

Why didn't you look in on her?

I saw that she had a visitor.

There's no rush.

Really? Not like any of the doctors I know.

Yeah.

Oh, no, you look too good to be in a hospital.

You need to go home.

Okay?

Jaclyn, I'm so sorry.

You'll feel better after the surgery.

After they've freed up that muscle,

you'll stop seeing two of everything.

You should go.

I'm told the surgeon's good.

I'll see him on my way out.

Please.

(door opens, closes)

(siren wailing in distance)

(indistinct shouting)

What's up, big dog? You got more furniture to move?

Not yet.

How's the brass coming?

(sighs) Still waiting on what I need.

Be a couple of weeks once I start.

CARL: Is there a healer amongst us?

Ah. I thought I heard your voice.

Jesus. What happened to you?

Ah, minor mishap.

I'm happy you brought your pieces in.

I already have some people who may be interested.

Buyers?

Beautiful buyers.

Find me when you boys are done, hm?

We'll have to document the furniture

and get your signature on some papers.

(slurping)

Uh, yeah, sure. Okay.

Toodle-oo.

What happened to him?

Kid took him off a few weeks ago.

Hey, hey.

That's setting.

What -- What kid?

(sighs)

Flavor-of- the-fucking-month kid.

Rubber shirt, pointed boots?

He wanted money. Carl said no.

Came back with two of his pals.

They beat Carl up and stole some shit.

A couple antique chairs,

some money that was in the highboy by the register.

(slurps)

What pisses me off,

I wasn't here when they came around.

(cup clatters)

But I guess that's how they planned it.

You got to watch it with that shit.

What do you mean? What -- What shit?

Having a routine, same place, same time every day.

Like walking around with a fucking target on your back.

But I got it all back, so...

The stuff that was stolen?

That and then some.

What, and they -- they just gave it to you?

They didn't want to fight you for it?

One of the kid's pals did try his luck with a baseball bat.

Not a good idea, is what you're saying.

Should have stuck to baseballs.

Then what?

Then he went away.

Yeah, well...

Well, I could think of a few more assholes

you could give that treatment to.

Yeah? Like who?

Just -- Just half the city. (chuckles)

CHANCE: L.S. is a 46-year-old male raised by an abusive mother.

He states that as a child

he seemed to learn everything backward.

He read not only individual words backward,

but entire pages.

When he was forced to read a book from the beginning,

he has little sense of the story

until he is able to read it again from the end.

His great passions are reading about mental illness

and learning disabilities

and caring for his 73 exotic birds.

(birds squawking)

(speaking native language)

(chuckles)

Hey. Hey.

CHANCE: At the time of my evaluation,

Miss Franko was 19 months post

a head-on motor vehicle accident

in which her 68-year-old father was decapitated.

MAN: "Dear Eldon, it is with great sadness

that I write to you today.

Last week, Mariella Franko lost her battle with depression

and took her own life.

It seemed to Mariella that she died

with her father that night on the road.

(elevator dings)

LUCY: I told Mrs. Blackstone

she will have to make an appointment --

CHANCE: It's okay, Lucy.

The Jenkinses have been waiting.

Just one second.

I should go.

No, it's okay.

It's just I don't have a lot of time right now is all.

But if you'd like to wait, um...

Or there's a café on the corner.

You know, I could join you in about an hour

and we'd have some time to talk.

Thank you.

I don't know...

Half a block -- Columbus.

(sighs) I'm sorry, really.

It's okay.

Thank you.

You don't know what she's been through.

No, but she strikes me

as someone who knows how to get her way.

You should have seen

her little-girl-lost routine earlier.

I mean, she's been here before.

And sustained a pretty good concussion since.

You got so tough all of a sudden.

WOMAN: What can I get for you?

Uh, I'll take a black coffee.

Hey.

I didn't know if you'd still be here.

How is your patient?

(sighs) Well...

I...I shouldn't ask that.

No, no, no, no, it's okay. It's okay.

I, uh...

The guy is 39 years old.

He's married. He's got one kid.

He's about two years post a second craniotomy

for a malignant brain tumor.

He's got about six months.

His wife was with him today.

My God.

What do you say to them?

The truth.

We talk about...

counseling, support groups.

I can't help them anymore, but I can walk with them.

I hold their hands.

Thank you.

You're a good doctor.

People want miracles.

Maybe the only miracle is I can take your hand.

That's the miracle --

the striking through, the freeing of the caged heart.

'Cause without it...

life is just half lived.

He'll kill me.

He said he would, and I believe him.

This is your husband.

It's not some intruder.

This is your husband who beat you.

He could make Jaclyn disappear.

Wait a second, you...

you just referred to yourself in the third person.

Is this Jackie I'm talking to?

No. I don't know. I don't care about Jackie.

Can you continue with Suzanne?

He won't let me.

(scoffs)

This was big, even coming here.

This is dangerous for me.

It could be for you, too.

I could be putting us both in danger.

Yeah, well, there's -- there's a difference

between what people threaten and what they'll actually do.

You don't know Raymond.

Okay, I-I know this is difficult.

But if you met someone who knows the law,

who's versed in the law.

It's part of my job to testify in court. It's okay.

I know people. I've met people.

There's nothing you can do. I can make inquiries.

There's nothing anyone can do.

Maybe it's like you said.

Maybe there's just this.

(sighs) Maybe this is why I came.

(ringing)

LUCY: Hello?

Hey, Lucy.

Something I want you to do for me.

Myra Cohen -- C-O-H-E-N.

Psychotherapist in the Bay Area, now deceased.

See what you can find on her.

Okay, like what kind of thing?

Anything you can.

Like where were her offices, was she a partner,

can we get access to her records?

Myra Cohen. Who was she?

Jaclyn Blackstone's therapist.

I want to know what she knew.

I don't have too much time,

but you sounded so mysterious on the phone.

She's not gonna make it, Suzanne.

Not with that guy in her life.

Yet here she stays, in this city.

She says that if she left, he'd find her.

You already know what he's capable of.

And by the way, why should she have to run?

She's made her life here.

We are on the same side, right?

Do I think Jaclyn's hooked up with a monster? Yes.

Do I think she deserves a chance to work through her shit?

Absolutely.

But you're making me think there's more to it.

Let me rephrase that.

You're making me afraid there's something more to it.

So assuage my fears, why don't you.

There isn't more to it.

Oh, so...

[Chuckles] I shouldn't be concerned

by the degree to which

you're involving yourself in her affairs.

Yeah, "involving" is such a dirty word,

implying, as it does,

the getting off of one's ass. Oh, no, I didn't mean that --

We do something or we don't, Suzanne.

It's that simple. We act or we give in to despair.

Walk me to my train. Come on.

Did Jaclyn ever tell you how she met him?

She was being stalked by some guy she went out with.

She called the police. Guess who showed up.

Well, she wouldn't be the first to trade

one abusive man for another.

I met the husband.

What was that like?

Creepy is what it was like.

It would be hard leaving her to him.

I can imagine.

I can also imagine that's what she's counting on.

(indistinct shouting)

MAN: Give it back!

-Shut up! -Take everything!

Take everything! Here! Everything's gone!

Everything's gone!

My God, sometimes I wonder

how rational discourse is even possible.

And now you took this shit from me!

-Give it back! -Eldon?

You know I'm on Jaclyn's side.

You know that.

I-I thought we were making progress.

And I think that she is a-a bright, likable woman

who may someday be whole or not.

The bottom line is I never should have

asked you to look in on her.

I never should have asked you to get involved.

Especially not you.

It was once -- a long time ago.

I know. I know it was.

(cellphone chimes)

Once is a mistake. Twice is a decision.

(chiming continues)

Yeah.

LUCY: All right, the therapist you asked me about, Myra Cohen.

You ready?

Sounds dramatic, but yes.

She had a practice with two other doctors

in North Berkeley until she was murdered

by some intruder they never found.

The offices were burned to the ground,

and any records she had were lost in the fire.

Does the plot thicken?

(banging)

What's up, buddy?

I was in the neighborhood.

The French have a phrase...

Mutiles de guerre.

Do you know it?

"I was mutilated by war."

I spend my days in the company of those mutilated by life...

most of them beyond repair.

But I have always held to the belief

that there are times...

Not times -- moments -- when the right...

word or emotion...

a single touch, might heal.

And I have held this

though I know that the workings of the world

will not permit these -- these words or emotions.

There will be no grand gestures or interventions.

They are all...

images seen through a glass darkly...

in the midst of my own decline.

Did I mention that I have been drinking?

You should take a load off, Doc.

Mm.

I was trying to help someone.

And it seems that the last person who tried to help them

was killed, was murdered in a hideous fashion.

Now, does that make the helping

an even worse idea or a moral imperative?

Murdered by who? Do we know?

In all likelihood, the husband --

an Oakland homicide detective.

Or at least, he's behind it.

He never gets his hands dirty, she says.

He gets it done.

He's smart, then.

A guy like that could be a problem.

A homicidal homicide detective. Yeah, I would say.

He knows how to game the system.

He is the system.

And, yet...

I will not accept

that this problem cannot be solved.

I will not.

Let's walk.

(laughter)

(indistinct conversations)

You know, I...

I don't really know this part of town.

No shit.

What --

Are you okay?

D?

D, what's -- what's -- what's going on with the...

* Tell me, how you feeling?

(slurring) Got a cash card?

Got a cash card?

Yeah, yeah.

If you want to buy something, I've got cash.

Use the machine, brother.

D, listen...

Use the machine.

* Beggars, man, I get that dough *

* All I see is Charlie Sheen

* So I'm on my Emilio Estevez

* Esteban, they don't be what I be on *

* Every track I poop up on

* I turn it into Grey Poupon

(ATM beeping)

* Turn this to a panty raid

* Tough act to follow like...

Particular amount?

Go big or go home.

(ATM beeping)

* Jesse James, all the same

* But I gotta watch my back

* When you make it to the top

* They look like Casey Affleck

* Oh, you want a beef with me

* But really, I don't know you

* Tell these Doug Funnies that... *

(indistinct conversations)

There's a guy back there.

Seriously. There's a...

(siren chirps in distance)

Hey, D.

That guy's back, and he's got a friend.

Two friends.

Jesus.

Jesus Christ, D. This is -- This is not good.

I don't like this.

Are you fucking kidding?!

You can stay here, but I wouldn't recommend it.

What --

If anyone starts shooting, duck.

Otherwise, don't fuckin' move.

We need to borrow some money.

(knife plunges)

Jesus!

CHANCE: Eldon Chance is a 55-year-old right-handed neuropsychiatrist.

Of late, he is increasingly aware

of a mental state he finds to be dark and unstable.

He fears he has been drawn

to the precipice of some new and terrible reality

that now, having stumbled,

he will be unable to keep from falling.

**