Californication (2007–2014): Season 4, Episode 2 - Suicide Solution - full transcript

Previously on Californication...

- My name is Hank.
- I know.

This is Mia, Bill's daughter,
and this is Hank.

- She's 16.
- 16.

- I need to tell you something.
- OK.

It's not a memoir.

It's a written account of
my sexual relationship with you.

Written by me as a fuckin' novel.

The publishing world knows you
as this brilliant train wreck.

Let everyone else in on it.

Abby here is the best there is
at defending the unjustly accused.



- Hank Moody?
- Fuck. What now?

You're being charged
with statutory rape.

- I'm not going to sleep with you.
- Hank.

- Mia.
- OK.

Sasha Bingham
is America's sweetheart.

How about you rewrite
the script that I loathe?

Hank, Hank, let me handle this.

You convince your client
to take this job,

and you can have your old job back.

When you said you had some notes,
you really had some fuckin' notes.

What was it like, her punch?

There's only one way to find out.
Go on. Give it a shot.

- What the fuck, Hank?
- I'm sorry, Marce.

I just... I couldn't sleep last night.
My mind was racing,



and that couch of yours
is no fucking help whatsoever.

It's, like, a medieval
fucking torture device.

I was touching your penis, Hank.

I know, Marce. Felt good too.
You give a nice tug job.

- She does, doesn't she?
- Yeah.

When she's motivated.
It's a lost art, really.

Oh, shit. I think I'm gonna puke.
Did you guys fuck?

Gross.

Hey! What do you mean, gross?

Fuck you, you fucking pedophile.
What's so gross about fucking me?

Nothing, Marce.
You know I'd throw a shot into you.

- Anytime.
- Oh, Christ. Make it stop.

That's it. All you do is mope around
the house all day in your underwear.

You're on notice. Consider your ass
kicked to the kerb.

I got no place to go. Karen won't have me.
Becca won't have me.

The world thinks
I'm this degenerate scumbag.

I'm out on bail
for the second time this week.

You are my two and only friends
left in the world.

Come on. Love me.

Hank needs some sugar.

God.

I'm game if you guys are.

Fucking animal!

And would it kill you
to put some goddamn clothes on?

So I like to sleep in the raw now.

Big whoop. What do you care?

Get a load of Florence Olivier.

I don't look that bad, do I?

No way, Charlie.
No, you look good.

Like a baby.

Like a big, sexy baby.

Thank you.

- Good luck today, buddy.
- Thank you.

Who knows? Maybe you'll get
some writing done.

Fuck you.

Love you too.

Hello, old friend.
You're looking quite well.

Much better.

Come on.

Yeah, I'm on my way.

- I'm a little, um...
- Oh! Hi.

Just picking up old Blackie here. Yeah.

- Me? Oh, I'm... I'm OK.
- OK...

As good as can be expected
under the circumstances. And you?

Excellent. How about Becca?

Cool. Glad to hear that.
Give her a kiss for me.

Hey, you wouldn't happen to have
any jumper cables, would you?

Oh, I get it.
Just keep on walking.

I know. I ruined your life and all,
and I couldn't be more sorry about it,

but I got to get across town
to my attorney's office,

where lateness is frowned upon.

OK, bye.

I caught that.

You wouldn't have looked
if you didn't care,

and you should care, you know?

I'm bleeding here.
I'm feeling a little faint.

Look, I don't hope to get back
into your good graces anytime soon.

OK, ever.

I just hope that maybe one day
I can sit down across from you,

look you in the eye and talk to you
and explain to you what happened.

Until then, I'd settle for seeing our daughter,
who I miss dearly.

She still has a father, you know,
even if her mother hates his guts.

Yeah. Well, what happens
if she hates your guts too?

Hey, you. Lady lawyer.

- Where you going?
- I have a meeting.

- I thought we had a meeting.
- We did. But you're 45 minutes late.

So I'm moving on to my next meeting.

- OK, fuck. Fuck.
- So I'm not late. And rude.

And inconsiderate
of other people's time.

- I'm sorry.
- No, don't be. It's your life.

- I had this thing with my family.
- Three years, Hank.

What? What three years? What?

That's the maximum sentence
for unlawful sexual intercourse.

Three years, state prison.

Yes, but I thought we were all gung-ho

about making sure
it didn't go down that way.

Well, that's certainly my plan.

Because I'm a cocky fucking attorney
and this is a great case for me.

But if you insist on dicking around
and wasting my time,

I'll be happy to see you rot in jail.
What the fuck do I care?

You're just another entitled smart ass
who thinks it's OK to fuck a teenager.

OK, no, no, no, I don't think it's OK.

I think it's wrong.
Sick and wrong.

- And yet you fucked a teenager.
- Come on, I thought we covered this.

I didn't know how old she was.
She set me up.

OK, it doesn't matter. The DA is looking
to make an example of you.

Statutory rape is a big fuckin' deal
here in the Golden State.

Who knew?

Maybe no one was hurt
in your case.

I was hurt. She punched me.

Maybe it was all just good, dirty fun.

But there is probably
some creep out there

who's gonna think twice
before banging the baby-sitter

because he's just read
about the Hollywood asshole

who's doing serious time for sticking
his dick in some underage pussy.

Can you say it louder? I don't think
they heard you in Culver City.

- I think you need to hear me.
- I get it.

OK, from now until the preliminary hearing,
just behave yourself.

- Stay out of trouble.
- Yes. Yes, ma'am.

OK? With any luck,
I'll convince the judge

there's not enough of a case
to take to trial.

And if you can't?

Then it's time to wheel and deal.

Do some horse trading.
That can be fun too.

- You really love this shit?
- Don't tell anyone I told you, but...

sometimes it's even better than sex.

- Safer too.
- You must not like sex very much.

No, see, that's where you're wrong.
I love sex.

Are you trying to turn me on, lady lawyer?

Oh, please.

- I'm obviously far too old for you.
- No, you see, that's where you're wrong.

I like me a mature woman.

- Oh?
- Crow's feet, stretch marks,

nipple hair, I dig that. Dig it all.

Love that shit.
Not that you have any of that shit.

Stuff. I'm gonna go now.

- Yes.
- Thank you.

- It's coming.
- What?

My fucking period.

I'll alert the media.

My tits are so sore,

I'm crampy as hell, and I've
been throwing up in my mouth

- all day long.
- Nice. Nice.

You're probably preggers.

I mean, you are quite a slut.

Fuck you.

I'm too old to sustain life.
I'm too bitter too.

Sperm would enter
my pretty little vajew-jew,

and my cold, black heart
would kill that shit dead, son.

Can you please do something
about that fuckin' Hank?

What? You want me
to put out a hit on him, or...

- Yes. Seriously.
- He's not my problem.

The guy is fucking miserable.
He's making my life miserable, all right?

- I know.
- Isn't it bad enough

that I have that pasty, little man-child
ex-husband of mine underfoot all the time?

Come on.
You got to let him see Becca.

He needs a fix.

It'll do them both some good.

I don't know, you know.
I don't know. I'll think about it.

What page you on?

Don't round up to the nearest ten.
I know your tricks.

I've been kind of busy, Assholio.

Of course, of course,
but you started, right?

I mean, you typed "fade in"?

Charlie, I haven't even had time
to read the draft they don't like.

Hank, your deal is closed.

It's OK to start writing.

You said you wanted to do this.

Yes, but that was before I became
Hank Moody, statutory rapist.

It doesn't exactly inspire one
to sit in front of the typer.

Hey, hey. This kind of ballyhoo
didn't stop Polanski, did it?

No. The man banged out
script after script,

movie after movie.

He won himself a nice little
Academy Award too, didn't he?

Comparing me to the world's
most infamous fan of underage girls

is not the way to start a pep talk, Charlie.

Are you forgetting about R Kelly?

Jerry Lee Lewis. There's another one.
Shit. He married one.

I think she was his cousin too.

- That's kind of hot.
- If you say so.

Work with me here, Hank.

Hey.

Hi.

- Hi.
- Hug?

- Too soon.
- Fair enough.

So you...

You want to,
go for a walk or something?

You hungry? You want
to go down to The Strand,

or you want to get
ice cream or something?

Not really.

Is there anything that
you want to do particularly,

or anything you need?

Come on, Becca.
I'm dying here.

- I need guitar strings.
- OK. I can help with that. Definitely.

We... We... We can get on...

Let's get on it.
Let's do this.

Come on.
Is that OK, Karen?

As long as you come straight back.

Well, it's not like I'm gonna
make a run for the border.

I don't know what
you're capable of nowadays.

I'll be in the car.

Thank you, Karen. I know...
how hard this must be for you.

Do you?

Sounds good, Jeff Becca.

It sounds pretty good.

- What?
- You've been practising.

Yeah, well...
it's something to do.

It doesn't have to be this hard, Becca.

Shouldn't it be hard?

I mean, isn't that pretty much
what happens after the final straw?

It's impossible to make things
go back to the way they were?

- You like that guitar?
- What's not to like? It's a classic.

- Well, let's get it, then.
- No way. It's too expensive.

You want to take the instrument seriously,
you need a serious instrument. Come on.

Whatever. I don't want it.
Save your money. For a lawyer.

We'll take this one.

Thank you.

This is one hell of a fiddle.

Young lady, you are one hell of a lucky girl.

That's me. A lucky girl.

You'll thank me one day.

It came up declined on this thing, man.

- Can you try it again?
- Yeah.

It's actually been doing this all day.

Nah, I'm sorry, man.
It's declined.

Hey, you know, no worries, man.
I can set this thing aside for you.

- You know, you get your card sorted out.
- No. Won't be necessary.

Oh, all right.

She's got talent, your kid, by the way.
Got great tone, man.

- Lot of soul.
- Yeah, she sure does.

Hey, you forgot these.

Honey, I love you.

Right. OK.
Cool. We'll see you there.

What, are you kidding?
This is great news.

Yeah. OK. Good.

No, no, no.
Pants on, buddy boy.

- We got ourselves a meeting.
- Oh, fuck that noise.

I've had a shit fuckin' day.
My pants are off.

I'm just gonna sit here

and get good and snookered
and watch my stories.

Can you make me some dinner?

How about I buy you some dinner?

Can we go to Long John Silver's?
I used to love that place when I was a kid.

I don't know what the fuck
you're talking about right now,

but I have some very good news.

Eddie Nero wants to sit down.

Why?

Why? Because he wants to play you,
dumbass, in the movie.

No, I hate that fuck,
that self-satisfied prick.

I'm holding out for Keitel.
When in doubt, call in the Bad Lieutenant.

Plus the guy loves to show his dong.
Gotta love that in a thespian.

We'll put him on the list.
Come on. You're gonna have a good time.

- Come on. Here we go.
- Will there be alcoholic beverages?

Most def. Most def.
As many as you like.

And I'm sure there will be
kind words and flattery.

Can we stop at In-N-Out on the way?

- Yes, Hank. We can stop at In-N-Out.
- Yay.

Let's go. Let's go. Let's go.
Pants up.

Becca hates me, Charlie.

She'll get over it, buddy boy.

We all do.

So is there a script?

- Fuck no.
- But he's getting close.

Ish. Hopefully it'll give you
a sizeable boner when I'm done.

Thank you.

- You know what I like about you, Moody?
- No, what's that?

You're handsome.

- Well, aren't you the charmer.
- Most writers aren't handsome.

They're usually pale, sun-starved, man-titted
little weaklings, like your friend here.

- Thank you. Thank you very much.
- Always whining about the words.

"If it ain't on the page
it ain't on the stage."

Fuck... that.

You know what I say?

If it ain't on the stage,

ain't nobody showing up at the goddamn
motherfuckin' theatre anyway.

This isn't classical music.

This is motherfuckin' jazz!

- Got me?
- No. You represent everything I hate,

but I do find you highly entertaining.
Continue. Please.

You're a fuckin' man.
You understand the dark side.

- I do?
- You've seen some shit.

A handsome man comes with a price.

It's a burden.

And you understand that.

And thus
the motherfuckin' dark side.

You know you want to go!

Well, you know you do!

Like a sex machine? Moving it? Doing it?
Doing it? Moving it?

- Moving it. Moving it.
- You hear this guy?

Bibles of truth. Bibles of truth.

- Excuse me?
- What?

No, I was agreeing with you, Eddie.

I'm a big fan, by the way. Big fan.

Keep quiet, little boy. Just sit back and nod
and drink your fuckin' girly cocktail.

You know what I'd like to do to you?

I'd like to shoot you in the dick
with a paintball gun...

and watch you scream
like a 14-year-old fat girl.

No place for you in a man's world.

Fuckin' suit. Ruinin' everything.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,
what's with the fuckin' mood swings?

Be nice to my friend and countryman.
Have a fuckin' drink. Psycho.

OK.

To hard cocks.

And handsome men.

All right. Cheers.

Come on, Goldilocks.

Excuse me.

I see a girl that I defecated on
in Palm Springs once.

Hey, guys. I'm sorry I'm late.

- Where's Eddie going?
- He saw someone he pooped on once.

Sweet. So, what do we think?

Do you think he'd be a good Hank?

We think he's pretty much fuckin' insane.
That's what we think.

Speak for yourself.
I thought he was very compelling.

When he was cupping your junk,
you found that compelling, did you?

I did. It was very intense.
Can see why the man has an Oscar.

Hey, you know, I never did
finish giving you my notes.

- Oh, yeah, I think you did.
- No, I'm pretty sure I didn't.

Well, guess what? I'm not taking
any more notes. I'm full. So there.

Your client's being very naughty.

I think you should send him to my room
without any supper.

Charlie, this can't be worth it.

All for a stupid, fuckin' movie that'll probably
turn out to be worse than the last one.

The odds are against us, my friend.

Always. What are you gonna do?
Get a real job?

Hello?

Sasha Bingham.

- Hey. Hello.
- Hello.

You are... pretty naked
under that thing, aren't you?

Well, you're pretty good
at stating the obvious.

You know, I got to be honest with you.

I don't think that
we can continue to do... stuff.

Of a...
Stuff of a physical nature.

Why is that?
You didn't enjoy yourself?

No, no, sure, it was stellar. It's just that
I don't remember much after the knockout.

You know.
But sex is always pretty good.

- Pretty good?
- Yeah, you know, like pizza.

Or Mexican food. Or sushi, even.

No, nah, sushi's pretty hit or miss.

Is this, like, a technique of yours,

where you insult the girl
so she'll want you even more?

Because it's totally working.

Yeah, it's just that I'm...

I'm in a hell of a lot of trouble these days.

Yeah, this whole statutory rape thing
is pretty fucked up.

- Totally.
- It is kind of hot though too.

You know,
knowing I slept with a criminal.

- Alleged criminal, thank you very much.
- Yes.

And speaking of that bit of unpleasantness -
the rape, not our physical union -

it's probably not the best time
for me to be getting involved

with the actress who's gonna
play the girl who I... raped, allegedly.

I get what you're saying.

That doesn't mean I don't want one or more
of your fingers in my vagina right now.

- Why you got to talk to me like that?
- Talk like what?

It just makes it kind of hard to...

clink thearly.

I guess it does make it
kind of hard.

- Shit.
- Oh, I can do better.

Oh, no, no, no. It's the door.

What?

Shit. Shit, shit.
Eddie Nero.

Hold on, Eddie.

- What does that douchebag want?
- He wanted to talk about the project,

and I told him he could stop by,
but I did not think he would.

I'll go, then. I'll just leave.

- You don't mind?
- No, I don't mind.

I mean, maybe I should, but I just think
I'm a little too tired to figure that out.

So, you know, I'm good.

Hey, actually, just, um...
just hide in the bathroom, OK?

Hide in the bathroom?
Why do I have to hide?

Because I don't want him to know
you're here. Duh.

- Duh?
- Yeah.

Look, the secret to being
a successful Hollywood actress

is projecting the vibe

that everyone you work with
has a shot at fucking you.

That's the secret?

You mean to tell me
that you wouldn't fuck Eddie Nero?

One of the greatest actors
of his generation?

Allegedly.

No, I would. He's hot.
That's just not the point.

Hmm. He poops on people.

Just hide in the bathroom, OK?

I'm gonna go get rid of him.
Go downstairs for a drink.

- How do I look?
- Good enough to shit on.

Would it kill you to put on a bra?

- Are you jealous?
- No.

- No.
- I'm not.

It's just that I just had
one or more fingers inside you,

and I don't know where you come from,

but the way I was raised,
that's pretty intimate.

"To my dear
beautiful daughter,

"I'm writing you a letter.

"That's right,
a good old-fashioned letter.

"It's a lost art, really.

"Like handjobs."

Shit.

"I have a confession to make.

"I didn't like you very much at first.

"You were just this annoying little blob.

"You smelled nice.
Most of the time.

"But you didn't seem to have
much interest in me.

"Which I, of course,
found vaguely insulting.

"It was just you and your mom
against the world.

"Funny how some things
never change.

"So I cruised along,
doing my thing,

"acting the fool,
not really understanding

"how being a parent changes you.

"And I don't remember the exact moment
everything changed.

"I just know that it did.

"One minute I was impenetrable.

"Nothing could touch me.

"The next, my heart was somehow
beating outside my chest,

"exposed to the elements.

"Loving you has been
the most profound,

"intense, painful experience of my life.

"In fact, it's been almost
too much to bear.

"As your father, I made a silent vow
to protect you from the world,

"never realising I was the one

"who would end up hurting you the most.

"When I flash forward,
my heart breaks.

"Mostly because I can't imagine you
speaking of me with any sort of pride.

"How could you?
Your father is a child in a man's body.

"He cares for nothing and everything
at the same time.

"Noble in thought, weak in action.

"Something has to change.
Something has to give.

"It's getting dark.

"Too dark to see."