All language subtitles for Krystal.2017.1080p.NF.WEB-DL.DD5.1.H264-iFT

There are really only two things
you need to know about me.

First, I am a son
of the low country,

a child of the south.

I’m polite, courteous, chivalrous,

I open doors,
I respect my elders,

I "Yes, sir" and "No, ma’am"
all the livelong day.

That’s a long-billed curlew,
just in case you’re curious.

The second thing is,
I have a very weird heart.

And I don’t mean that
in a metaphorical English major sense.

I mean physically.

I have a condition.

Paroxysmal atrial tachycardia.
PAT.

I have a racing heart which just gallops
up to 200 beats a minute

whenever it feels like it.

The doctors think my PAT
might be caused by stress,

which is something doctors
say when they’re stumped.

So that’s why I’m a walker of dawn beaches
and a watcher of birds,

to keep as far away
from this exhausted and silly

and heartbreaking world
as possible,

to stay calm, very calm,
and barely alive.

The first time I got it, the PAT, I mean,
was in front of my house.

Remember when you were a little kid
and you ran for the sheer joy of running

and you never, ever got tired?

That was my last morning
of forever running.

Please don’t die.

Please.

I waited to die too,
and in waiting, I converted,

a quasi-medical term that means
my heartbeat returned to normal.

My second episode
happened a year later.

Essentially,
what all great religions teach us

is transformation of one’s self.

To lie down on the summer grass...

That’s my father giving
one of his famous home Saturday seminars

in Comparative Religions.

He’s a professor at Emery.
He’s brilliant.

...and a lie. Wake up!

Well, you can imagine.

The Devil is in the attic!

Look, son,
you didn’t see Satan.

You were simply
overwhelmed with guilt

about peeking into places
you really shouldn’t,

and finding magazines that I should
feel guilty about but don’t.

And hopefully, you’ll understand later,
when you’re married

and lassitude has lassoed the galloping
priapic pony of your sexuality.

- Pony? What pony? I’m getting a pony?
- No.

There’s no pony. Jesus.

Then I don’t think...
What are you talking about?

I’ll make it simple, okay?
There is no Devil.

But there’s no Santa either.
That’s the trade off, Tay-Tay.

Santa and Satan
are just symbols for...

My father’s book,
The History of Om,

is about the redemptive power
of prayer and meditation.

I tried reading it last summer.
I couldn’t.

If a cartoon in a titty magazine
just about killed me,

a normal life was totally
out of the question.

College, forget it.

Sex, drugs, and rock and roll,

a death sentence.

And love...

Hey.

Hi.

Are you here by yourself?

- Do you have a car?
- Um...

Did you drive here? Do you have,
like, a phone or something?

I need to call a cab
or Lyft, or whatever.

Um...

What?

You okay?

What?

- I said are you--
- No, not re... not really.

Well, you don’t
look so hot.

I have a kind of... condition.

You’re sweating a lot,
do you know that?

I’m having
kind of a hard time.

Having a hard time what?

Just breathing, actually.

Shit.

Fuck!

- Name, please.
- Krystal Bryant.

- No, I meant him.
- I have no idea.

Look, man, I don’t even
know him, okay?

He was just sitting
on the beach, on his ass,

and all of a sudden,
kid has a heart attack.

See if we have anything
on a Taylor Ogburn.

We need the EKG--

Miss Bryant,
I have to ask you to leave.

-Tell him that. He won’t let me go.

Taylor Ogburn, history of
paroxysmal atrial tachycardia.

- Age?
- 18.

- God, remember 18?
- IV’s in.

- Maybe a pulse reading would be in order?
- Great, get a pulse reading.

Two hundred.

Miss Bryant, that’s not helping.

210, 215.

- He’s not converting.
- That's bad, right?

You’re amazing.

- Just gonna put this on.
- 240.

- 250.
- We’re gonna have to induce conversion.

- Get me four CCs of ATP.
- God. Shot, Jesus. Needles.

Well, Miss Bryant, I’m not
giving you the shot, now am I?

- You can just eat me, all right?
- Miss Bryant, you’re fantastic.

- 260, 280.
- ATP.

Adenosine triphosphate.

Taylor, you’re gonna feel a kind of warmth
spreading up your arm, yes.

Something’s wrong.

- No, you’re fine.
- He’s not fine!

- Miss Bryant, shut up.
- 1-80.

Yep, see?
You’re converting. You’re fine.

My heart is bleeding.

I can feel it opening
and bleeding.

Fuck bleeding. I’m going down.
I swear to God, I’m fucking going down.

Nurse, can we get a couple
of Valium for this crazy broad?

- Get her the hell out of here.
- I can’t take Valium. I’m in the program.

- Somebody do something!
- Okay.

Somebody help her!

Jose,
we need a little help in here!

...roll you over.

Yeah, just get her head.
She’s in the program.

- What program?
- AA.

It’s okay.

My brother Campbell
is a hot-shit artist.

I don’t know if his paintings
are good or bad.

I do know they’re big.

So big, in fact,
that when I stand before them,

I can literally feel myself shrinking.

- No thanks.
- Right. Sorry.

How many times you
faked the PAT thing?

- How do you know I ever faked it?
- I would.

At my piano recital,
at your show in Charleston.

I knew it.

I think there are more
but shame dulls my memory.

Have you ever been in love?

Negative.

Well, what about Mary Elizabeth?

I brought Mary Elizabeth to dinner
a couple of weeks ago.

So before dessert, Dad and I went out
onto the porch to smoke a joint.

When did Dad start smoking pot?

He says, "You ever notice,
Mary Elizabeth has a bit of a beak?

Imagine if she had a little mustache,
she’d look just like Larry Bird."

My God. He’s right.

Yep.

Some things
you just can’t unsee.

So I dumped him.

Her.

Was there a point
to this story, or--?

The point is, I think love
is just a trick God plays on us

so we don’t feel ashamed
of ourselves all the time.

Weird to hear you talk about God.

I mean, do you,
you know, believe?

Only marginally.

And only when it’s convenient.

What about Satan?

- What about him?
- Do you believe in him?

Hell no! Who needs Satan
when we have Republicans?

Morning, Mr. Spencer.

And a good morning to you,
my lady of ladies.

Good morning, Taylor.

Has our kingfisher
arrived from New York?

Not yet.

Shoot a monkey...

Well, all in good time, I suppose.

Vera is the Belle

of the Honeysuckled
Sunny Southern Aphorism.

"All in good time.
God works in mysterious ways.

Everyone is doing
the best they can."

Vera, you know
what I admire about you?

I have no idea,
but I’m dying to hear it.

Your resolute cheeriness,
which flies in the face

of the world’s marauding armies
of tragedy and darkness.

I think some young southern boy
has been reading too much Faulkner.

If it’s not one thing, it’s another.

There are dust devils
everywhere.

And our kingfisher is somewhere
between here and New York.

Well, we’ll muddle through somehow.

- Vera, when you were a girl...
- Dear.

...what singers did you listen to?

The same ones I listen to now:

Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett,
Miss Joni Mitchell.

And when they sang love songs,

did you ever get the feeling
that they were singing about something

that you knew
absolutely nothing about?

Of course.

Did you ever find out?

Of course, and so will you.

All in good time?

You’re young.
Have faith, sweetness.

Well, I’m late.

Right. It’s Tuesday morning.

Yes, my little group.

Vera, you wanna know
what I imagine?

Imaginings of an 18-year-old?
Darling, I’m not sure I do.

Well, hello, dear.

Hi. My name’s Taryn,
and I’m an alcoholic.

Hi, Taryn.

Is this your first meeting?

Yes.

I mean, I think
I may have made a mistake.

Honey child, if you’re here,

it’s no mistake.

...and the wisdom
to know the difference.

Welcome.

First, I’d like to thank Susan
for bringing the coffee and snacks today.

And do we have
any first-timers this morning?

Bravely into the breach.

I don’t think...

Yes, you in the back.

Hi. My name is Taylor...

Fuck.

...and I’m an alcoholic.

- Hi, Taylor.
- Welcome, Taylor. And...

Keep coming back.

All right, so we don’t have
any birthdays today,

and those of you
that got your chips this week

got them Tuesday night.
Congratulations.

So, I guess it’s time to introduce

our speaker for this morning,

Krystal.

Hi. My name is Krystal.

Hi, Krystal.

And I’m an alcoholic
and an addict.

Okay.

I did the stripper thing,
I did the hooker thing,

I did the heroin thing,

because something inside of me

couldn’t stand
the light of day.

Everybody all normal,

in shorts,

throwing Frisbees,

suckers.

Why didn’t they know what I knew?

Sunlight is bullshit,

darkness is king.

And drugs and booze
were like the rain.

But after the rain,

I was left bone dry,

and praying for the stranger
lying next to me

to have the decency to go away
before I open my eyes.

Since I got clean,

my eyes are open all the time.

And the light

is the truth that God is love.

And the rain
that washes me clean

is the love that pours
down on me in this room.

Hi.

Hello. Remember me?

Yeah, you’re that kid
with the fucked-up ticker.

- Yeah, and you’re--
- Late.

I liked your speech.

- My speech?
- Yeah.

Man, I’m not exactly running
for class president.

Right, well, I liked your whatever.

So, I was wondering if I could
buy you a cup of coffee.

No.

- It’s happening again, isn’t it?
- What?

- The heart thing, it’s happening again?
- No. Absolutely not.

Look, man, I am not taking you
to the hospital again.

That was a one-time shot.

Fucking needles
and tweaked out interns.

You’re not dying, are you?

No. No, I’m not dying.

Then, if I were you,
I’d consider this a pretty good day.

I’m so proud of you.

Do you have a sponsor?

Only when we were young,
our toes wiggling in evening dew...

Whenever my mother
writes a new poem,

we have a family get-together
to celebrate.

...streetlights were old friends
and the breath of eve's side.

No regretting, no regretting.

The stars were lanterns, hung just for us,

while once in a blue, blue moon,

who wept as we slept

and awoke too soon, too soon.

I have an announcement.

I’m in love.

You? Get the fuck out of here.

- Honest to God, Campbell.
- I met her at AA.

- When did you start going to AA?
- You don’t even drink.

Well, no, I’m not
really an alcoholic.

I just went to a meeting, by accident,
because Krystal was there.

- Krystal?
- Sounds like some kind of stripper.

Well, she is. Was.

Now, can I have a drink?

Where’s this Krystal from?

- Who cares. I love her.
- No, you don’t.

How the hell do you know?
Can I have that drink now?

No, your heart and all, no.

My heart is fine.
My heart is in love.

I don’t like this.
I don’t like this one bit.

Love is... I don’t know.

- What is love, Wyatt, dear?
- Dangerous.

But--
Exactly, very dangerous.

Good. I could use a little danger,
with a Jack Daniel’s chaser.

You can tell a good bit about someone
by where they’re from.

- Did I ask you where she’s from?
- You did.

And what did you say?

I didn’t,
because I don’t know.

Now can I have one of those?

Give Romeo a shot.

No. No.

She thinks I’m a drunk. How can I
be a drunk if I’ve never had a drink?

It’s one drink, big deal.
What could happen?

Whoo-hoo-hoo!

Yeah! Whoo!

Faster! Faster!

Where is she?

Tay-Tay, you’re not
gonna find her out there.

Well, not with that attitude.

You don’t understand, man.

I’m in love.

With a stripper junkie.

She’s more than that.

Aren’t we all?

Me, in love, instantly.

Madly.

Head over heels... ly.

Tay-Tay,
this is so sad, really.

You have a near-death heart
thing, you come out of it and,

bingo, enter Slutina, Queen of the South.

Now you’re in love?

You just don’t understand.

What the fuck’s going on
with this red SUV?

They’ve been following us
all night.

Hey, you know this guy?

Where are you?

There.

Greenwood Gallery.
How may I...?

No!

Actually, I feel like shit.

Okay, I accept that.
However, the marijuana was your idea.

Opium?

You are fucking-A, Tweety Bird right,
I want some more,

and it’s all your fault,
so goodbye and fuck you!

Hello.

I guess our fucking-A Tweety Bird
has arrived from the Bronx.

Vera, I have something
to confess.

I’m sure you do.

I’m not really an alcoholic.

Well, God knows,
you don’t smell like one.

I’ve decided
to become your sponsor.

You should be thrilled.

Now, listen carefully,
sweet, sweet boy. Step one:

...to admit that I am
powerless over alcohol

and that my life
has become unmanageable.

You don’t have enough of a life
for it to be unmanageable.

And you’re not an alcoholic.

This heroin hooker,

chicks like her don’t fall
for guys like you.

What’s wrong with me?

What’s really wrong with you
is you’re a good guy.

Chicks marry good guys. They fall
fuck-happy in love with bad boys.

My God.

You’re absolutely right.

She looks at me
like I’m a small jar of Miracle Whip

wearing Dockers
and penny loafers.

What can I do?

Nothing. Your essential goodness
dicks you completely.

I can be bad.

Go easy on that joint, rook.

Fuck easy.

That’s not bad.

All right.

Jesus. Okay, let’s go.

No, thanks. I’m going to go
to Frenchy’s for a frosty.

- But you said that you would--
- I’m too high.

Jesus. Me, too.

Do you think they’ll notice?

Just sit in the back,
pretend you’re invisible,

just like school.

All right.

Pull.

Right.

God grant me the serenity

to accept the things
I cannot change.

The courage... I don’t think
she’s here, sweetheart.

Perhaps she’s at
the gallery.

You work at the gallery,
don’t you? If memory serves.

We have quite
the crowd today.

And there is no mystery
as to why.

Um, unfortunately,
our speaker has been delayed.

So in the meantime...!

Well.

Here he is now.

My, my, my.

Hi. I’m Bo.

And I’m an alcoholic
and an addict.

Hi, Bo.

When I first joined AA,

I was hoping that the men
would fear me

and the women would love me.

Now the men love me
and the women fear me.

I started smoking pot
when I was 12.

My parents used to tell me
every time I got high,

I was welcoming Satan
into my soul.

Satan?

He’s being metaphorical, dear.

And it took 30 years
of using,

and a million miles
of bad road

to realize they were right.

Satan was in my soul.

- I guess he’s not being metaphorical.
- Satan became my best pal...

I have something to confess.

Again?

The devil has been in my soul
since I was seven,

and I am very, very stoned.

Fear, the fear
that woke me in the morning.

Fear of the dark.

Too much light.

My reflection in the mirror.

Girls.

Clowns.

My father.

Silence.

And just about everything else in between.

But with my best friend Satan,

I was never afraid.

And I was never alone.

And then one afternoon,
I woke up in Motel Hell.

We’ve all been there.

Empty bottles of Thunderbird
all over the place, roaches.

Both kinds.

Weird shit written
all over the walls.

Flies buzzing around a syringe.

And something really sticky in my hair.

And then a voice.

"Welcome to the end
of the line."

Whose voice?

And then I’m praying. To who?

Then I’m on my Harley.

Who’s driving?

Then I’m in a meeting.
Who brought me here?

We know who.

We all know who.

God as we understand him.

I think God brought us.

All of us together.

And I think faith
keeps us coming back.

The faith that gives us wings.

Or at least a soft place
to land.

In my father’s book,
The History of Om,

all the major guys, you know,
Buddha and Christ and Muhammad,

all talk about how you must be reborn.

Thou must be reborn.

But I’d always get bored
and stop reading,

so I never knew exactly
why you had to be reborn.

Until now.

Hey, sport.

What happened to you?

He not busy being born
is busy dying, y’all.

- You want a ride?
- My back of the bike days are long gone.

Now why is that?

I get the wind in my hair

and I start feeling a little too free,

if you follow me.

So I walk.

One step at a time.

The boy... in the penny loafers

and the sport coat on the beach?

What about him?

A lie.

In a coat and tie.

I was thinking that if I looked normal...

I get the picture.

Inside I was a zoo parade of fear.

Fear of everything.

Fear of the dark,

my reflection in the mirror...

girls,

my father, clowns,

thunder, my shadow,
the sound of my heartbeat,

life,

death,

and everything in between.

I guess that would explain
the whole heart thing.

I guess it would.

I think God got us here.

All together.

And I think faith keeps us coming back.

The faith that gives us wings...

or at least a soft place to land.

How old are you?

Eighteen.

You sure don’t talk 18.

I have a very old soul.

Hey, Mom!

I got math.

Hey, baby.

Evening, son.

And what a lovely evening it is.
Am I right?

Soft. You know what I mean?

Like velvet.

Like that part of a woman.

Can I help you?

You know, a night like this

makes a man wish he was
big enough to fuck it.

And I am.

You don’t believe me, ask her.

- Holy shit.
- Yeah.

Your PAT thing must have gone crazy.

That’s the strange part. It didn’t.

Why do you think?

I think it’s 'cause I was being Bo.

Who’s Bo?

You know, I think I could
be really good at being Bo.

What the fuck are you talking about?

Bo is my paint brush.

Henceforth, I paint myself in Bo.

Who the fuck is Bo?

And why are you walking
like that?

It’s my Bo walk.

- Yeah.
- You know. Cool.

With an undercurrent
of tragedy.

Detached from the worldly bullshit
but in touch with the pain.

There she is.

Dude. She is too much
for your little life, Tay-Tay.

Not for Bo’s.

All right.

- Son of a bitch!
- What happened?!

My kid, he got into a fight.

What kind of sick fucker
would start a fight

with a kid in a wheelchair?

My kid started it. Bobby.
Bobby always starts it.

The boy has stones.
Does he ever actually win?

Bobby always wins. He runs them down
and then he runs them over.

Lots of anger, your boy.

You know what?

Pardon my fucking French, but exactly
what the fuck are you doing in my car?

Just riding shotgun,
trying to be your pal,

and searching the horizon for the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change.

He’s got a lot to be angry about.

His father was driving.

He was so loaded he backed over
him in the driveway.

Didn’t come back either.

This is usually where
my gentleman callers get out.

Yeah?

Well, fuck ’em
if they can’t take a joke.

Which?

Just suspended,
because I didn’t start it.

- Give me the cigarette.
- What cigarette?

Why don’t you give your mother
the cigarette?

Why don’t you eat my ass?

Who the fuck is this dude?

Can I, help?

Nope.

You trick that thing out yourself?

Trick?

Guess who I think I saw today?

- I have no idea.
- I bet you do.

- He went back to Savannah.
- Says you.

I saw him outside the window
in Biology, lurking.

- No, you didn’t.
- Yes, I did.

I know lurking when I see it
and that fucker was lurking.

Freaking me out while I was in the middle
of dissecting a frog.

What the fuck is he doing here anyway?
Lurking like a motherfucker.

Can we watch the language
for one fucking second, please?

Who’s the kid lurking
in the back seat?

Hi.

Did my mom tell you
about Lurker Number One?

I guess your mom will tell me
all about whomever when the time is right.

What makes you think you’re going
to be around long enough?

I have to get back to work
or the manager will fire me.

Keep fucking smiling.

Could you get this dimwit
home for me, please?

No, that’s okay, Mom.
I can walk.

Yeah.

I feel bad that you’re in a wheelchair,

but not that bad.

I got enough shit
to keep me awake at night.

And if you think that
I’m going to act like I feel bad for you

in front of your mother
just so I can get in her pants,

well, you got your head up
your young ass.

And know this...

I’m not just another guy that's out of
your life before you know his last name.

Kid.

How old are you, man?

Eighteen.

You’re hitting on my mom
and you’re two years older than me?

Fucking beautiful, 18.

I have a very old soul.

I hope you didn’t try
that tired old line on my mom.

I would’ve thought only old bags
would work in a joint like this.

Or gay guys.

Fucking birds?

I’m running the joint while the old bag
is having a procedure.

Cancer?

No, not cancer, a procedure. Jesus.

Hey, what’s this one?

The Trumpeter Swan.

You like it?

I don’t know.

It’s my favorite. I’ve never
seen one in real life.

Its song is supposed to be amazing.

It only sings when it flies.

I get that.

Somebody painted this?

Somebody did.

- I think I’m going to cry.
- Willie?

Bobby.

Didn’t get to catch your name.

Taylor.

Shit?

Taylor?

Name like that, sweet face like yours.

Where I’ve been,
you’d be fucking Prom Queen.

I’m going to have to ask you
to put that cigarette out.

Sucking up to the boy
to bone my old lady.

You’re obvious, sir,
like balls on a tall dog.

Let’s take a ride.

Come on.

One more step, motherfucker!

You got me all shook up.

Now, you see here,

I’m going to take the boy
back to his mama.

Then I’m going to fall on my knees
and beg her to forgive me

and take me back.

Then, we’re going to go back
to Savannah where we belong.

And she’ll thank me too.

As you should, for being a gentleman

and not turning your fucking lights out
right here and now.

- Let’s go!
- I’m kind of stunned it doesn’t hurt more.

Get on.

All right, go!

Whoa!

Keep going, come on.

He’s not getting up,
I think we’re all right.

My God!

You’re heavy!

Thanks a lot.
Tell me something I don’t know.

- Do you see him?
- No, I don’t see him. I don’t see him.

- I think he’s following us.
- I think I need to go to the hospital.

Shit.

My God!

God.

God!

Shit.

Yes! Yes! Yes!

All right, go. Come on!

This thing can go faster than that,
I know it can, come on! Whoo!

Fuck you, Willie!

Whoo!

Dr. Farley?

- Another episode of--
- No.

But apparently, I’ve been stabbed.

- Whoa! Get back, Loretta!
- Okay.

I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you
to leave. Immediate family only.

İt’s all right,
this is my cousin.

- Once removed.
- Who did this to you?

The Devil.

I don’t have any gloves.

Don’t be such a pussy.
Willie isn’t the Devil.

- Should I still be bleeding this much?
- I don’t have any damn gloves.

Anybody who believes in the Devil
should give people more credit.

Right on.

Maybe some stitches.

You can’t believe the people
that I see in here.

Stupid people.

People who smell really bad.

People without proper insurance.

People that are just really sick

and they’re just going to die,
no matter what I do.

You can’t smoke in here!

Fuck it. Give me a drag?

Honest to God, I think
I just need some stitches.

You are a pussy.

It’s just a flesh wound.

- You know...
- Bobby.

You know, Bobby, sometimes
I wonder why I do what I do.

Well, maybe before you try to cure
the sick, you ought to forgive them.

You’re right.

Of course.

- I’m just a terrible doctor.
- Yeah.

Dr. Farley,
please report to Admitting, Dr. Farley.

My leg?

Jesus Christ!

"You ought to forgive them."
You’re pretty smart.

Here’s how smart I am.

I know that now that old Willie
is back in the picture,

you have no shot with my mom.

No shot at all.

Not that you ever did, Mr. Old Soul.

Does she love him?

My mom has cleaned up her act, a lot.

But there’s one last thing
she’s addicted to that she’ll never shake.

- What’s that?
- Misery.

Think you can walk?

Much obliged.

You should forget it. Willie eats
white boys like you for breakfast.

Dr. Martin,
please report to...

After a million miles of bad road,
I can handle a guy like Willie.

Yeah, yeah fuckin’ Willie.

Taylor? Is that you?

What the hell happened to you?

I’ll meet you outside.

Um...

It’s kind of complicated.

Is it all right if I lie now
and tell you the truth later?

- Of course.
- I fell.

I’m so sorry.

This is a new look for you.

Yes, it’s very Bo.

My, my, my.

It wasn’t just a "procedure", was it?

Of course not.

You know us old southern belles.

- Is it--?
- Cancer? Of course.

Fuck.

My sentiments exactly.

If I may ask, where?

Here, there, everywhere.

Are you scared?

I’m not afraid.

Dear heart, my soul is an old pro,

but my body is a rookie
who can’t seem to hit a sliding curve.

However, as your sponsor--

No, Vera, don’t worry about that.

I want to make sure...

we got through all 12 steps

before I set sail for The Great Perhaps.

So, taking three or four
giant steps at a time,

here’s basically the idea.

So don’t drink. Don’t use.

Don’t lie,

ever, to anyone,

especially to yourself.

Be kind.

Be fearless.

Be gentle.

Find God.

Talk to Him daily.

Then keep coming back.

What if I keep coming back...

and all of a sudden,
I find myself getting in way...

way too deep?

That’s my favorite place
in the whole world,

too deep.

Lordy day,

to be young and in too deep.

You keep coming back, too. Okay?

Darling, I’ll keep coming back
until I get it right.

So after the accident, my father took off.
Six months later,

they found him in a motel room,
and I’ll spare you the details.

I can’t walk, and he kills himself.

What’s up with that?

That’s fucked up.

I guess somewhere along the line,
I decided to live.

But my mom, she didn’t really
decide one way or the other.

So she just lives
and dies at the same time.

Then Willie showed up.
And, you know, the other stuff.

Let’s get you home.

Listen, I just want you to know
before you jump into our lives, man,

this might be a good time to reconsider.

- Whoo!
Yo, faster! Come on!

- What?
- Go!

- Yeah! Come on! Whoa!
- All right. Here we go!

Yeah!

Whoa.

Whoa!

That was excellent!

Whoo!

- Are you all right?
- Yeah.

What the hell?

Where’s the van? What the hell
happened to your leg?

Willie.

Shit.

What?

Him.

- ...I thought you were saying--
- Yeah.

Yeah, that’s what I thought
you were saying the whole time.

You was just waving your arms.

How in the hell was I supposed to know
what you were trying to say?

When I looked back to stop,
I hit the curb, and I swear to God,

I saw you go ten feet
like a ballistic missile or something.

That doesn’t look so hot.

Yeah. Well,
it is what it is.

Take off your pants.

Well, an exit line if there
ever was one. Good night, kids.

Thanks for not killing me, bro.

Whoa. We need to take you
to the hospital.

We went, but your son there

sent Dr. Farley
into an existential tailspin.

He was useless.

Am I hurting you?

Not in a bad way.

Why is a guy like Willie...?

I mean, why is a guy like that
even in your world? I don’t get it.

You don’t know anything
about my world. You’re too--

Young? I know. Blah, blah, blah.

Why?

There is a kind of guy...

a kind of guy who figures out
exactly where you live.

And then he just moves in.

I got sober.

I did some house cleaning.

And out with the bad air went Willie.

But Bobby says
that you’ll go back to him...

whenever he wants.

I guess that’s the kind
of mother I’ve been.

All right.

Sorry.

Um...

What?

I think I should put my pants back on.

Right. Sorry. Okay.

No. No. Don’t apologize.

Don’t ever apologize.

He’s going to show up here.

Tonight, tomorrow, sometime.

And he’s gonna come for me.

And he’s not gonna
like the sound of "no".

And he’s not gonna like
the sight of you.

I wouldn’t worry too much about Willie.

I eat guys like Willie for breakfast.

I haven’t heard Bobby laugh
like that in a long time.

Beautiful.

Yes.

I was talking about the...
that bird’s song.

A Savannah Finch.

I like that you know that.

I’ve had to give up...

just about everything
there is to give up.

But if you don’t kiss me right now,
I think I’ll go crazy.

You have to be quiet.

- What time is she coming?
- Actually, it’s her and her son.

I’ve made a lovely quiche with ham.
She’s not a vegetarian, is she?

- No.
- Just an ex-hooker and a stripper.

No, she’s not a vegetarian.

- Where is she from again?
- Who cares where she’s from?

Savannah. There. Christ.

I’m going to have a mimosa.
Anyone care to join me?

- No!
- Why not? It’s after one.

I told her we’re all alcoholics
and that we can’t drink.

- I’m not an alcoholic.
- Neither am I.

And neither am I. The only one
in this family who is an alcoholic is you!

And you’re just pretending
to be an alcoholic

- so you can keep getting into her pants.
- Fuck you!

- Taylor!
- Hey, Dad, come on. Listen to me, please.

- I told her we were all in the program--
- Why would you tell her that?

Well...

I can’t remember but I’m sure
I had a very good reason.

- That is because you’re pussy whipped.
- Pussy whipped?

Well, that’s news, don’t you think, Wyatt?

- All these years wondering if he was gay?
- God!

- This calls for a drink!
- No!

- Perhaps a doobie?
- No!

- You’re being an asshole.
- No, you’re being an asshole!

- Boys.
- Tay-Tay, you can put on a wife beater

and hobnail boots
but I can still kick your ass.

Why are you dressed like that?

Like some kind of, I don’t know what.

- A biker.
- But-- Precisely, a biker.

Big deal. I bought a bike.

- What?
- You what?

It’s all right.
Look, it’s right there.

That’s my hog. Ain’t she sweet?

Do you have a hernia?
Why are you walking like that?

- Bo.
- Bo?

- He’s just being Bo.
- I’m lost.

All right, look.
Bo is this guy who...

This is pointless.
Look, Mom, you have your poems.

Campbell, you have your paintings.
Dad, you have your books.

I have nothing except for my
horseshit heart, until now.

Now I have Bo. Bo is my work of art,
and I am in love.

You sound insane, boy.

Yes, I’ve gone mad.
I have become, at long last,

an Ogburn, and you all should
be very proud.

I am. Chivas, anyone?

And by the way, you’re all
a bunch of drunks and stoners,

and the only reason that you get away
with it is because you’re all so fabulous

and brilliant
and good-looking.

Well, I think I told Krystal you were all
in AA because you should be!

And if you call me Tay-Tay
in front of her, I swear to God...

Okay, Tay-Tay.

You son of a bitch!

- My God!
- That’s enough!

Stop it!

Taylor! Campbell!

- Get away from him!
- That’s enough!

Stop it! No more! Stop!

Get up! Get up! Get up!

- She’s here. She’s here!
- Get up! Get up!

God. Hi.

Hi.

This is so crazy.

Come on in. They’re just
dying to meet you. Come on.

- Welcome.
- Excuse us.

Tay-Tay just made a mess.
I’m picking it up.

- I am so sorry.
- Hello.

- Hi. Hi.
- I’m gonna check on the quiche.

Dad, this is Krystal
and her son, Bobby.

Welcome, welcome.

Krystal, is it?

Yes, it is. Krystal.
Krystal, it is.

- Krystal. Welcome.
- Krystal it is.

Well, can I get anyone an iced tea
or perhaps a lemonade?

- An iced tea would be lovely.
- I’ll get it!

- Me too.
- Yeah. Two, Wyatt. Two.

Well, why don’t we all sit down.

Let me take your coat.

Yeah.

You have a lovely home, Mrs. Ogburn.

Please. Poppy.

Can I get you something
to drink?

I think your husband’s...

What in the world is keeping
my husband so long? Excuse me.

- Campbell. Um...
- Hey.

Taylor tells me that you’re a painter.

He told you I’m a painter because...

I am a painter, I am, that’s right.

What a charming coincidence.

Wyatt? Wyatt!

What are you doing?
We promised no drinking!

Seems I'm forced into what someone weaker
than myself would call a "confession".

Stop flapping your lips, tell me.

I know her.

Bobby.

Your eyes are so deep,
I’m drowning in them.

- That was too much, wasn’t it?
- Just a bit, sport.

Yeah, I’m gonna go to the...

I’ll be right back.

He’s so shy.

Yeah, he’s just the...
the King of Shy.

I need to use the restroom.

- Let me show you where it is.
- Bro. I can handle it.

- Just tell me where.
- Right, right.

- Down the hall and to the left.
- All right.

Fuck.

Hey, you wanna
shoot that puppy my way, ace?

I’m getting kind of a bad feeling.

In your heart?
Do we have to go to the hospital?

- Do we have to go right now?
- No.

- Maybe we should go now. Just in case.
- No, I’m fine.

Fuck you, Wyatt!

Fuck you!
Fuck you! Fuck y...!

I bare you no ill will, darling.

We women do
what we have to do to survive.

However, fuck you, Wyatt!

That’s just her way of...

I don’t know. Mom?

I gotta go. Where’s... Bobby?

How would you like it if I said
I had the hots for your mom?

Which I think I kind of do.

Maybe we can work something out.

What the hell?

Goddamn it.

Sh...

It...

Shit.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Take it easy!!

What...? What the fuck?

I didn’t do anything.
I was just--

- Shut up, Campbell. Wait!
- All right.

What happened?

You know,
I thought maybe, just maybe,

I could have one normal day
in my life...

with a normal family,

in one of those houses
you drive by and dream about,

just a normal fucking day,
with my son.

Today can still be normal,
I swear to God. Right, Bobby?

I can’t remember
what we’re talking about.

That’s because your brother
got him stoned.

And your father... Jesus!

Just when I think
I’ve got my life turned around,

my past comes and jumps up

and bites me in the ass
like a junkyard dog!

Wait, wait, wait.
Just... just one moment.

I think there are some situations that--

Normal? I’m an idiot.

You’ve just gotta learn to accept
the things you cannot... Fuck!

Shit.

Thanks a lot!

- What happened?
- Ask your father.

- Dad?
- Monkish silence is in order.

Fuck. Getting the kid high?

What is the matter with you people?

"You people" is your people.

Not anymore!

No, I renounce you!
I renounce you totally!

You all have everything,
and for the first time,

I had someone who was mine!

She wasn’t yours.

In my heart she was!

In my heart
I was not alone anymore.

- Baby, you’ve never been alone.
- Alone?

I have always been alone!

Ever since finding Satan in the attic!

- Satan...?
- In the attic? Dude.

And I run to tell you, and all you did
was promise me a pony.

Pony? What pony?

And now you do this.

I never promised him a pony.

Hey.

My God.
I told you to fuck off.

I tried. It didn’t work.

Now listen, I know that you
don’t want to hear this.

But I really love you.

And there’s nothing you can do
and nothing you can say

that will ever, ever make me stop.

Try this on for size...

I know your father.

That’s my car.

Right? Right?
That’s, that’s my car.

You think you’re freaked out?

I walk into your house,
with my son, and there he is!

- Spanky!
- Spanky?

Your father.

He told us he was a roadie
with the Allman Brothers.

Us?

You know, the girls.

Shit.

Why did you call him Spanky?

You are young.

Well, well, well.

Here’s the irony of the thing.

Irony and spanking in the same story.

Your father gives me this book.

The History of Om.

And man, that book knocked me out,

right off of my feet!

"To catch a raindrop on your tongue.

To be alive in the dawn
of your new skin."

How was I supposed to know
that Spanky was Dr. Wyatt Ogburn?

You just assumed he was a well-read roadie
for the Allman Brothers?

Hi, folks.
Um, please remember

to not park in the front of D&D
on the Parkway after 10 p.m...

I just started praying.

I started chanting.

During the actual spanking sessions
or would you take breaks?

And we’ll do birthdays
next Monday.

Sir, we have
a no smoking policy.

- I can’t believe this.
- Everyone.

Lord, grant me the serenity

to accept the things
I cannot change,

the courage to change
the things I can,

- and the wisdom to know the difference."
- Why don’t y’all have a seat?

All right, for those of you
that had the great misfortune

of missing last week’s speaker

and for those of you who have
clamored for his return,

Bo, everyone.

- Yeah!
- Bo!

Yeah, he’s good, he’s good.

Hi, I’m Bo, and I’m an alcoholic
and an addict.

Hi, Bo.

When I first joined AA,

I wanted the men to fear me
and the women to love me.

But now the men love me
and the women fear me.

I smoked my first joint when I was 12.

My parents, they were devout Baptists

so they took me to the minister

and he said to me
every time I smoked marijuana,

- I was letting the Devil in my soul.
- The Devil!

That’s right.

Satan became my best friend.

’Cause Satan’s fuel
is nothing more than fear,

the fear that danced
around in my dreams.

Fear of the dark.

Too much light.

My reflection in the mirror.

My father’s eyes.

His silence.

His voice.

After a million miles of bad road,

I... I woke up to flies,

buzzing around the syringe.

Empty bottles
of Thunderbird everywhere.

Weird shit written all over the walls.

And something really sticky in my hair.

And then a voice:

"Welcome to the end of the line."

Whose voice?

I think God got us here.

And I think faith keeps us coming back.

The faith that gives us wings,

or at least a soft place to land.

Happy landing, Bo.

So now, you gotta ask yourself,

- why are you here?
- Let’s get out of here.

And what’s chasing you?
Who’s chasing you?

And why do you think
he can’t get you in this room?

Boy, am I glad to see you.

There, there, dear heart.
I’m not dead yet.

I am, however, moving to Detroit.

To live with my son. He insists.

Detroit’s a little better than being dead,
don’t you think?

Vera, I don’t think I can keep
coming back anymore.

Dear.

I just don’t know
what I’m coming back to.

You’re leaving, the gallery’s closing,

my family is blowing up
right in front of me and...

she’s gone.

She.

You know, Taylor, sometimes
coming back over and over again

is just plain embarrassing.

And foolish, because the more
you keep coming back,

the farther and farther away
whatever you’ve been coming back for gets.

It’s a corollary to this:

the more desperately
you think you want something,

the more you’re never,
ever going to get it.

So what do you do?

You wait.

Be still and wait.

For what?

For whatever you’ve been coming back to

to come back to you.

And what if it doesn’t come back?

I don’t have time for what-if’s.

Here. This should help.

I’m really going to miss you.

Now go on.

Be young, for both of us.

♪ I can’t give any more ♪

No!

If he plays that song again,
I’m gonna blow my fucking brains out.

God.

How long do you think
he’s gonna be up there?

Well, it’s been days.

- What do you think he’s doing?
- He’s wallowing.

- On a theoretical level...
- For God’s sakes.

...do you think parents are
responsible for everything?

Generally? No.

- Specifically?
- Yes.

In that case, shall we?

♪ I can’t live ♪

♪ If living is without you ♪

♪ I can’t live ♪

♪ I can’t give anymore ♪

♪ I can’t live ♪

Son? Son?

We just... We’ve been talking,

and we just want to, as a family,

apologize if we in any way--

Stop.

It occurs to me, Dad...

that I never would have met her
if you hadn’t written that book.

It occurs to me, Mom, that...

her beauty would have sailed
right over my head

if I had never read one of your poems.

And it occurs to me, Campbell,
that I never would have been bold enough

to paint myself in Bo if it hadn’t been
for the boldness of your brush.

What have you
been doing up here?

- Waiting.
- For what?

Hey, man!

Okay. It’s okay. Where?

Okay. Got it. I’m on the way.

♪ I can’t live ♪

♪ If living is without you ♪

♪ I can’t live ♪

♪ I can’t give anymore ♪

♪ I can’t live ♪

♪ If living is without you ♪

♪ I can’t live ♪

♪ I can’t give anymore ♪

♪ If living is without you... ♪

- Is she here?
- No.

Are you okay?

Yeah, but I’m glad you’re here.

Willie has completely lost his shit.

He says he went to some meeting
and they voodoo’d his ass.

He doesn’t sleep,
he just draws like a madman

- and screams at my mom that she’s a witch.
- Where is she?

I’m stuck here in this fucking chair
watching the days die

and listening to the flies buzz
and I got a bad case of the dreads.

The only dude
I could think of was you.

Where is she?

This oughta be good.

Gee. Hi. Mom. Nice to see you again.
Glad you’re still breathing.

I’m fucking thrilled.
Do you remember Taylor?

What the fuck are you--
You know what, it doesn’t even matter.

Jesus, are you high?

- Yeah.
- All right.

Pack up your shit.
We’re getting out of here.

What the fuck are you doing?
Give me my shit!

Hey, no! I’m taking you, and I’m
taking Bobby, and I’m taking you home.

You’ve gotta
be fucking serious.

Are you kidding me with this shit?
Fucking sterling!

Okay, don’t look in my bag if you don’t
wanna find something you don’t wanna find!

You promised!

- Hey!
- No! No!

Get down! Stay there!
Come on, I’m helping you!

We are helping you!

- You said you weren’t using anymore.
- I’m not using.

I’m just tired. Okay?

- You’re gonna help. That’s gonna be great.
- Mom! Stop your bullshit!

Every time you get into this shit,
I get fucked!

I’m, I'm so-- I'm done!

Why do you keep doing this to me?

You’re supposed to be my mother!

Please, just listen to Taylor.

Taylor, where are we going?

Home.

That’s a good idea.

Boy, am I glad to hear you say that.

Me and your dad can explain the whole
spanking thing to your mom.

- I’m sure she’ll get past it.
- You think?

Sure. Women get over stuff
like that in a heartbeat.

They do?

Then, and, um,
I’ve been giving this a lot of thought,

You and I should just get it over with
and get married already.

I’m serious.

You know, guys like you don’t
come down the pike every day, you know.

Right. Thanks.

I don’t have all the time
in the world to sit around

waiting for the older version of you.

And you’ve really proven yourself.

I know you can take care of Willie
when he comes looking for me.

She gone.

Where do you reckon she went?

Fuck it. Let’s do it.

I was thinking maybe we move
on down to Clearwater.

Clearwater?

Yeah.

You can get a job, you know,

working on, like, a boat,

which is pretty low stress,
what with your ticker and whatnot.

Right, a boat, whatnot.

And then we have a baby.

Wow.

And right away.

Like I say, I don’t have
all the time in the world.

Right, like you said.

Now, a baby can really
do a number on your finances.

But I think I’ve got that covered.

I know a couple of guys
from the old days

who live down in Clearwater.

And one of them has a club

and, you know,
I could do a little dancing.

- A few lap dances every now and then.
- Dancing.

You know, just to help pay for the rent.

Are you okay?

I don’t think I can drive.

Okay. Okay.
Okay, don’t panic. Bobby!

Bobby, wake up.

- What?
- It’s happening again!

What? What’s happening?

- It’s his heart!
- What’s wrong with his heart?

- Slow down. I’ll drive.
- I’m having kind of a hard time.

Pull over, pull over.

Okay.

Slow down. Stop right
here. It’s fine.

All right.

- Taylor! What’s wrong with him?
- He’s having--

I thought you were friends.
You haven’t talked about this?

Hey. My God.

Come on. You’re gonna have to help me.

This is a really... really bad one.

All right, goddamn it!
Where is she? Krystal!

Bitch, you better get your
motherfucking ass down here right now!

All right now.
You just turn right around--

- Willie?
- Spanky?

- Man!
- Ain’t this a bitch?

You are a sight for sore eyes.
Look at you!

Shit! What the goddamn hell you doing
in a fancy place like this, Spanky?

- Yeah, well.
- Yeah.

Excuse me?

- Darling, this is Willie.
- A friend of Spanky’s.

- Who’s Spanky?
- Well, he is.

Right, of course.

Spanky, I ain’t seen you in...

Hey! Fuck you, Spanky!

You’re the one gave my girl
that old fag book!

I beg your pardon?

Yeah, the one about praying and fuck-all.
She done up and ran off.

Fag book?!
Now see here, Willie!

I dare you to read it!

Why don’t you double dare him, Spanky?

- Everybody, shut the fuck up!
- My God!

I am going to
cut the shit out of you, Spanky!

And then I’m gonna take this here fine,
sexy piece of elder-trim out to my ride,

and I got the Devil with me,
and I hear he likes to watch.

Man, what the hell?!

You’re gonna make me lose
my damn temper, Spanky!

You cut off my toe!

You cut off
my motherfucking toe!

God!

- Shit!
- My God!

Look what you’ve done!
You cut off my damn toe!

I’m sorry. Willie,
I didn’t have my glasses on.

You got that goddamn samurai sword!
What did you think was gonna happen?!

Well, you were attacking my family.

You've ruined walks on the beach, man!

I got it! I got the toe!

Hold on!

That was the attorney.

Here we go!

- Why don’t you come over and grab--
- I got you.

- God.
- Willie?

- Taylor?
- Krystal?

What happened?

Holy shit! There’s more of them?

- We have his toe.
- Fuck his toe. Where’s my Escalade?

Nurse, get that carjacker into OR.
Can I get an orderly out here?

Jesus Christ, am I the only effing doctor
in this whole effing--

Hey!

Krystal!

Hey! What’s going on?

Okay.

Excuse me!

- Set up the ATP.
- He’s not converting, is he?

240.

Jesus Christ!

- 250.
- Six CCs.

Just breathe.

- No. I don’t want ATP!
- Hold.

Taylor, take a breath. Are you
listening to me? Let’s go now. Come on.

Let’s get that AT rolling, all right?

Let’s go. You got it.

You’re in trouble.

God...

No, no. Wait, wait, wait!

You can do this, Taylor.

I swear to God.

You don’t need that.

It’s your heart, baby.

You can.

You can.

Just breathe and listen to me. Okay?

It’s just fear.

I know you can.

Just keep breathing.

That’s right, breathe.

Ninety.

- Eighty and dropping.
- That’s right, baby.

Nicely done, Miss Brennan.

We’re out of the woods.

Is every day
in the Ogburn house like this?

This is nothing.
You oughta see the holidays.

Well...

Hey.

Hey.

I need to tell you something.

I feel sort of ashamed
about that whole Bo charade.

That’s all right.

I like you a lot better than Bo.

Hi.

My name’s Taylor,

and I’m an alcoholic.

You actually sound
proud of that.

What if a guy took a couple of Xanax
every now and then if he couldn’t sleep.

How old are you?

A bottle of red wine with dinner?

I’m a very old soul.

A Vicodin or two
with my Sunday paper.

I’m always gonna love you.

Always.

In Clearwater?

What do you think?

I think I might have a problem.

It occurs to me that falling
in love is a lot like dreaming.

And I don’t want
to wake up in Clearwater.

I’m sorry.

I’m really, really sorry.

- Doctor.
- Yeah?

- Our son?
- Who?

- Taylor.
- Taylor Ogburn.

Everything is just peachy.

"Peachy"? Is that, like,
a medical term?

He’s okay. He’s sleeping.

We just need to watch him overnight.

Y’all should get some rest.
He’s being discharged in the morning.

Well?

- Shall we?
- Yes, yes, yes.

You all right, dear?

No.

I need help.

I do have a problem.

I most definitely have a problem.

I think I might need to go to a meeting.

Tonight we’re gonna party.

And tomorrow, we’re gonna go
to a meeting, first meeting.

Tomorrow or the next day, one of them.

But I’ll go there.
I’m gonna go to two meetings.

Yee-haw!

Well, I’ll call y’all.

I’m not sure when they’re gonna
let me use a phone, so don’t wait by it,

but I’ll check in.

Hey.

Look, I never said this
out loud because...

I didn’t want it to seem more true.

But I’m sorry I’m the one
that you got stuck with, baby.

I’m not.

I’m not.

Come here.

I love you.

I love you, too.

It’s really cool that Bobby stays
with you guys for a little while?

For a little while,
for a lot of while, whatever.

Thank you.

I’ll be back in six weeks.

You take care of Bobby for me.

I swear.

You take care of that heart
of yours too, okay?

Down the lane,

a million or so thrushes

are bursting into sweet demented song,

and there are cattails
on the willow bushes.

And evenings are green again,

are green and long.

And wouldn’t you think I’d be used

to hearing all the noisy
clamorings of spring?

And would have
learned by now this April veering

of wings and buds,
of hours lengthening?

I know it well

With ears and eyes

It’s my old heart

That still stammers with surprise.