Grace and Frankie (2015–…): Season 7, Episode 14 - The Paprikash - full transcript

♪ Well, I don't know why
I came here tonight ♪

♪ Got the feeling
That something ain't right ♪

♪ I'm so scared
In case I fall off my chair ♪

♪ And I'm wondering
How I'll get down the stairs ♪

♪ And there's clowns to the left of me ♪

♪ Jokers to the right ♪

♪ Here I am stuck in the middle with you ♪

♪ Yes, I'm stuck in the middle with you ♪

♪ Ooh ♪

Here. "Oldest person
ever shot out of a cannon

into a giant banana cream pie."



Has a nice ring to it. Wouldn't you say?

Frankie, I'm gonna be honest.

When you first explained
what we were doing, I wasn't listening.

So, before we shoot anything
out of a cannon,

I feel like I should know what's going on.

It's pretty simple.
I need a triumphant ending for my life.

And I think a world record
would hit the spot.

Oh, good.

Well, look, there's...

There are lots of records we can tackle.

Beard of bees, face of snails.

All kinds of weird shit on your head.

What about the weird shit in my head?
Anything there?

Oh, my God, Grace.



Are you... eating?

I need something soothing, damn it.

And these pretzels aren't doing it.

Grace quit the Valivan.
She's looking for something to replace it.

Oh, I hear heroin is excellent.

I also know it's excellent.

How many poppy-seed bagels
equal one heroin?

Four hundred, but you'll throw up
before you get there.

Wait a minute. There was this dish
that my mother used to make.

It made me warm and happy.

God, it was comforting.

It was this spicy, red,
chicken-y, paprikash-y thing.

- Chicken paprikash?
- Can't be.

- Too obvious.
- Yes.

Chicken paprikash.

I want my mother's chicken paprikash.

Of course. There it was
in front of us the whole time.

I spent some time in Hungary.

Incredible heroin.

Look. Molly lifted her own head.

Look.

Her neck muscles
are actually starting to Hulk out.

See that?

Yeah.

You used a laser pointer
to show me, remember?

In the video of her gurgling.

You should at least respect the science.

I mean, look. A year ago...

this was my sperm.

Now it's making noises.

It's so noisy that maybe we should
take a break from the baby talk.

Okay. I see where you're coming from.

It's that place that hurts my feelings.

I'm sorry, it's...

It seems like our entire lives
have been on hold since the incident.

I wish you'd stop referring
to my daughter's birth as "the incident."

Look, I just miss you, okay?

I'm starting to wonder if you're capable
of getting through a single dinner

without talking about her
and just being present.

Here. With me.

Of course I can.

Great.

Because I had a bitch of a day.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just...

I thought of this thing
that happened yesterday. At work.

To a co-worker.

- An old lady.
- Huh.

Who...? Who was it?

She's new. You don't know her.

She's real old.

- Yeah.
- What's her name?

Um, Bellingham.

- Her name is Bellingham?
- Bellingham.

Like the town.

In Washington.

- State.
- Yeah, I know Bellingham is the baby.

Yeah. Bellingham's the baby.

You know what?
Let's do a real date night this weekend.

And I promise I'll focus my attention
solely on you.

Now there's the man I refuse to marry.

That's me.

Frankie Bergstein
attempting the world record

for fastest recitation
of "Yankee Doodle Dandy."

Okay. Three, two, one. Go!

You did it.

Four seconds. That's a new record.

Yay!

What are you so happy about?

That was the world record
for speed-reciting "Yankee Doodle Dandy."

Four seconds.

That was the world record
for speed-reciting gibberish.

I don't think anyone here is qualified
to judge whether it's coherent.

It's not.

Damn it.

There must be a record I can break.

Well, before you do that,
would you try this?

Does it taste like my mother's?

I don't have any idea
what your mother's tasted like.

And definitely not.

I'm on my fifth recipe
and I can't seem to get it any closer

to the way she made it.

Well, you must know someone
who has the recipe.

Oh, my brother, Jeffrey, has it.

But we haven't talked
in a couple of decades.

I can't believe that you've been estranged
all these years.

I'm sure he's a real bastard
who caused their falling out.

No, he's a wonderful guy.

Grace is a real bastard
who caused their falling out.

We didn't have a falling out.

It was just one of those things
where we didn't speak for a while,

then it's too embarrassing
to even talk about it,

so you just wait
until one of you hopefully dies.

That's insane.

Take it from someone
who's dying next Thursday.

You don't want to leave things
unresolved with your brother,

especially when all you had to do
was pick up the phone.

You really don't understand WASPs.

Okay. Here's what you do.

I sleep with him...

Well, I think we can all agree
that plan is not without merit,

but also not fully realized.

Come on, Grace. Call your brother.

What are you afraid of?

I don't want to get
into a whole thing with him.

I just want chicken paprikash.

Maybe you'll get
the tastiest paprikash of all:

love.

I've lost the thread.

Am I still sleeping with him?

Oh, good. It's you.

I don't think you've ever said that
to me before.

Where's Robert?

Oh, he went to Palm Springs a day early

to set up the rental
and go grocery shopping.

- So he's at the outlets?
- He's at the outlets.

What's wrong?

I got the advance Guys and Dolls review
from On Stage San Diego.

It's a pan.

- We got trashed.
- What?

But Shushman wrote it!

Shushman loves you guys!

Shushman boned us. Hard.

What did he say about Robert?

"The usually reliable Robert Hanson

is unfortunately a shadow
of his former self.

Although he said all the right lines,

it was as if he was struggling
to remember them.

Mr. Hanson doesn't so much
strut across the stage

with Sky-like swagger

as much as he gasps his way
to the nearest chair for a rest."

This is going to destroy Robert.

Yes.

He's overly sensitive,
even by gay actor standards.

We can't show up in Palm Springs
with this review.

Which is why we should stay someplace else
with a nice view and no Roberts.

- Peter!
- Sol, this is even worse for me.

I did the thing.

- What thing?
- The thing I do.

A week before opening night,

I meet Shushman for drinks,

sleep with him, and we get a great review.

What?

You sleep with him for a good review?

You're welcome.

Oh, my God.

The Republicans are right.

Show business is terrible.

Wait...

If you do this every year,
why didn't it work this time?

Okay.

So maybe it wasn't my best performance.

I had Thai for lunch.

Thai bloats.

Who knew Shushman would be so discerning?

He's a critic.

His whole job is to be discerning.

We need a plan to fix this.

Kill Shushman?

Too risky.

We're going to kill the review
before it ever gets published.

I get it.

I have to sleep with him,
but really bring the magic this time.

Go to the gym.

Eat a light lunch. I got this.

No. This isn't an '80s steam room.

I'm talking about blackmail.

I love it. How?

And... go.

Oh, shit.

Oh. Oh, damn it!

What's happening, Frankie?

It's this fucking arthritis.

I can't break a world record
with these hands.

I can barely hold the chopsticks.

It's the world record for eating dumplings
we're talking about.

Can't you rally, woman?

I thought I could.

But face it, J-M,

I'm just another old broad
with "chopstick hand."

So use a fork.

It's not a big deal.

If I can't use chopsticks, who am I?

Don't you understand?
This is about my life.

How could anyone understand that?

I thought I'd lived a big life.

But as it turns out,
I never really did anything big.

What are you talking about?

I use the vibrator you invented
every night.

And on some of the tougher mornings.

But I never became a famous artist.

And the pot strain named after me
turned out to be indica.

And my manifesto was rejected
by The New York Times.

You are always gonna be disappointed
if all you remember are your failures.

But as you approach the end,
you start to wonder who you really are.

And I'm worried
that I became the one thing

I never wanted to be:
just like everybody else.

Good grief.

You old people are impossible.

Oh, God.

This is a disaster.

He's coming here.

- Who?
- My brother.

I told him I'd love to see him sometime

and he didn't get that I was being polite.

I didn't even get a chance
to ask for the recipe.

And I'm a stranger to myself. Get over it.

Why don't you get over your thing?

My thing's about to come
through that door.

Fine. I'll pull it together.

As long as when we're done,

you agree to work full time on helping me

to achieve immortal greatness in this,
the hour of my death.

Yes. Fine. Whatever.

See?

That's nice.

Welcome.

You moved. I love it.

Ehh. I don't.

I was so happy to hear from you.

And relieved that you're not a guy
who harbors bad feelings about a review.

Oh. Uh...

Hello. Who are you?

A guy who harbors bad feelings
about a review.

And if you insist on publishing
your vicious takedown

of my husband's Sky Masterson,

I'm the guy who's gonna tell your editor

about your arrangement with Peter.

What arrangement?

You're sleeping with the director
of the productions you review.

Ever hear of a little thing
called "journalistic integrity"?

Um, not at On Stage San Diego.

It's owned by Food-n-Things

and free at the grocery store
with purchase of sparkling water.

My editor knows
about my relationship with Peter.

- He gave me a high-five.
- Wait. They already know?

Wait. We have a relationship?

Not a relationship. But you met my mother.

You live with her. We had to walk past her
to get to the bedroom.

Hold on. I thought
this was a quid pro quo.

How? We had great sex
and I still gave him a bad review.

Hold on. We had great sex?

Grace.

God, it was great
to hear your voice again.

Oh, it's... That's the beauty of the phone.

This is good too.

You look wonderful.

Hi, I'm Frankie.

I'm your sister's best friend.

Then you must be a very special person.

- Ehh.
- Don't mind her.

She's having a late-life crisis.

I just wanted to leave something behind.

But all I did was carve my initials
in a block of ice

on the hottest day in August.

- Jesus.
- Can I get you a drink?

Thanks, but actually,
I don't drink anymore.

- Oh, boy.
- Do you eat food?

I happen to love food.

But right now,
I'm just happy to see my sister.

So...

why'd you call after all these years?

I was hungry...

to connect with you again.

- Me too.
- Well, I'll leave you to it.

If you catch me lurking,
I'm just eavesdropping.

Another hour?

You're already an hour late.

Look, if Brianna catches me
with her, she'll kill me.

What? No, no, no, just me.

I don't think she'd murder an infant.

No, I didn't just put emphasis
on the word "think."

Oh, crap. Crap, crap. I gotta go.

Gotta go.

Hey. Shh.

Here you go. Yeah.

A little... nap.

Just...

Oh, yeah.

Okay, here we are. Yeah.

Babe?

I've got a surprise.

Okay, peanut, stay quiet for
your uncle / dad / best friend Barry

and maybe we'll both survive this.

- Hey.
- Okay.

Pop quiz. If you could wish for anything
right now, what would it be?

A time machine.

Exactly. A return to simpler times.

Let's be honest, we're not parents.

We're youths.

Oh, my God.

Mushrooms.

Let's get weird.

Tonight? I don't think it's a good idea...

for my stomach.

I just ate a bunch of prunes.

You have to suck it up
because I've got a plan.

We scarf these ASAP
and throw on Leprechaun 2.

Babe. Recreating our second date?

Just reminding you how magical I am.

How can I forget?

We ran after a car for miles 'cause
we thought it was a giant Tootsie Roll.

And that can all be ours again.

Mm.

Hey, nerd, grow a pair
or I'll dose you like I did last time.

No! No. I mean...

Ha! I'll dose myself.

Uh...

As soon as my stomach settles.

Which usually takes 60 minutes.

What the fuck is this?

Shit.

Uh, that's for one of my figurines.

It's a sleeping bag.
I was playing Campground Galactica.

It's...

What's that smell?

Must be the prunes.

No.

It's her.

I can smell her all over you.

No way.

She's here?

- Oh, my God...
- No way!

- Uh... Who?
- Where is she?

I know she's here somewhere.

Brianna. Come on.

Bellingham!

Show your face!

I know I've been talking your ear off
about my grandkids.

But I swear, the little one
just smiles at me...

and fills up my heart.

Yeah.

You know what fills me up?

Chicken paprikash.

Remember the one we always had
when we were kids?

- Oh, yeah.
- Yeah.

Isn't it amazing how foods from childhood
can bring back memories?

Exactly.

And are your memories
that it was sautéed until brown?

You know, I used to make it for my wife
all the time. She loved it.

I don't think I've made it once
since she died.

And did you make it with water or broth?

While she was alive.

I'm so sorry I missed the funeral.

- I'm just sorry you didn't know her.
- Oh, me too.

We could've had Mama's paprikash
together, and...

We would have seen you adding onions?

Mom didn't make the chicken paprikash.
That was Dad's dish.

What?

He made the chicken paprikash?

I thought that's why you wanted
to make it. You missed him.

No. What I miss is...

chicken.

I was off it for a while.

And then I wanted to find
a really special dish to...

re-enter the world of chicken.

So this has nothing to do with Dad.

Jeffrey, I didn't even know he made it.

Jeez, can't we talk
about something besides Dad?

So is this why
we haven't spoken for years?

Because you're afraid
we'll talk about Dad?

Can't we just, you know,
keep it light and friendly?

Recipe-based?

You're my sister.
I want to have a real conversation.

But you only want to talk about Dad.

Yes, but it doesn't mean we have to talk
about that horrible day at the beach.

Well, it overwhelms everything.

I just want to know more about him.
I was 4 years old when he died.

- I have no memory of him.
- Well, then you're lucky, Jeffrey.

You didn't have to go through that.
Count your blessings.

I'm sorry if I don't consider it lucky
never to have known my father.

You also didn't have to see the person
you loved the most in the world

disappear into the water
and never come back.

Holy breakthrough!

But if you did enjoy the sex,
why did you give us such a bad review?

I didn't like the play.

Why is that so hard for everyone
to understand?

Robert was all over the place.

When he started "Luck Be a Lady,"
we'd all be lucky if he got through it.

You really didn't like the production?

- That means that...
- Yes, Peter, yes.

It means I really liked your other ones.

And as pathetic as it makes me feel now,
I really liked you too.

And if you wanted me
to change that review,

if it meant that much to you,

all you had to do was roll over and ask.

So...

too late now?

Uh, that's what I'm thinking.

- Because...?
- Well...

You brought me here to blackmail me,

and then tell me you've been sleeping
with me cynically for years.

- Please don't do this!
- What is the big deal?

Everyone gets a bad review
once in a while.

But it's different this time.

Robert's losing his memory.

- He barely made it through the play.
- What?

I had to convince him to wear an earpiece
and I fed him the lines from backstage.

That's why you had to be backstage?

I thought you just didn't want
to pay for a ticket.

This is Robert's last play.

And I was hoping to protect him
from having to face that.

But...

I guess you really can't protect anyone
from facing what they have to face.

I used to play cards with my mother
every Sunday.

And then she started...

At first I thought she was cheating.

Pretty soon I realized
she just couldn't remember.

I saw that she couldn't play bridge
long before she did,

and I wish I could have protected her
from it.

Please give my husband the chance
to end his acting career with dignity.

I'll change my review tonight.

I am so sorry
about what you're going through.

You have my deepest sympathy.

Thank you, Simon.

Peter, you're screwed.
I'll see you in the morning edition.

You are so fucking hot right now.

Ugh. Call me, maybe. Piece of shit.

I am really starting to like him.

I'm so sorry about your dad.

Yeah, I know, Frankie.

I can't imagine
how painful that was for you.

And it explains so much.

About your fear of attachments
and sudden loss.

Why you won't go in the ocean.

Frankie, you know
why I won't go in the ocean.

Fish poop in there.

I should go, Grace.

I clearly remind you of a lot of things
you don't want to think about.

I'm sorry that I upset you.

You're not gonna just leave
without so much as a hug?

Or a recipe?

Oh, Jeffrey, don't go.

I think there's a way for both of you
to get what you want.

Grace wants the recipe and Jeffrey
wants to know about his dad.

So every ingredient you give Grace,

she'll give you a detail
about your father.

Frankie, that...

That is the most insane idea that you've...

One quartered chicken.

Oh! Oh.

Okay.

He slept in the hospital
when you had pneumonia.

One diced onion.

At night he would lie on the floor
next to my bed, and...

And sing me the Mills Brothers.

Two cloves of garlic.

He smelled of vanilla on Sunday mornings

when he made us pancakes.

Two tablespoons of Hungarian paprika.

He did a great Bugs Bunny impression.

Can you do it?

Where's my ingredient?

One pinch chili flakes.

- No, I can't do it.
- I'd like a crack at it.

Wait a minute.

I almost forgot the chicken stock...

and the sour cream.

And I almost forgot:

he never left the house
without wearing a hat.

Thank you.

Oh, thank you!

Aw. You're welcome. Oh.

Any time. Literally, any time.

I'm sorry.

They were supposed to pick her up
before you got home. It was an emergency.

An emergency?
They went to Costco at rush hour.

They're adrenaline junkies.

If they didn't feel terrible,

they wouldn't have bought us
the Jamón de Serrano.

The pig's leg?

I'd rather have my fiancé.

Brianna, we agreed
that I was gonna be on call

until they get a handle on things.

- It's just temporary.
- Except it's not.

It's the new normal.

In fact...

it's the life you always wanted.

Yeah, but with you.

Come on,
it's not like I'm cheating on you.

It's worse.

I'm like the third wheel
in my own relationship.

Not true. No. No, no.

We are a post-modern fam
and you are my number one gal.

Then why change your phone background
from me to her?

That was National Baby Day!

I was gonna change it back!

Why do we need a National Baby Day?

- What is wrong with everybody?
- Brianna, get a grip.

I'm here. I love you.

Nothing has to change.

You honestly still believe that?

You just hid your child from me.

Do you know how fucked up that is?

Actually, you know what's fucked up?

Is that I felt like I had to.

This is really bad, isn't it?

And... the shrooms are kicking in.

Hit the spot?

Mm.

- Ah. You full?
- Oh, yeah.

Great.

Back to my thing.

And what was your thing again?

I needed you to help me
achieve immortal greatness,

and you enthusiastically agreed.

- I did?
- Yes.

Do the words
"yes, fine, whatever" ring a bell?

Yes, fine, whatever.

What's going on with you?

I'm average, Grace.

Shockingly ordinary.

And that's the way
I'm gonna be remembered.

If I'm even remembered at all.

- How do you want to be remembered?
- Well, not like that.

You know, for the first time today,
I remembered my father.

I mean, really remembered him.

You know, not what he did,
or how he died, or...

what he was to the world.

But what he was to me.

And it brought me a comfort that I never...

That I never knew I could have.

God, I wish he could know
how good he made me feel.

Wouldn't you want
to be remembered like that?

- I would.
- Yeah.

And you will be. Trust me.

The people who love you
will never remember you as ordinary.

Thank you.

And in a way...

that powerful insight came
because I made you call your brother.

So in saving you...

I also saved myself.

Yes. Fine. Whatever.

♪ You're the end of the rainbow ♪

♪ My pot of gold ♪

♪ You're Daddy's little girl ♪

♪ To have and hold ♪

♪ A precious gem ♪

♪ Is what you are ♪

♪ You're Mommy's bright ♪

♪ And shining star ♪

♪ You're the spirit of Christmas ♪

♪ My star on the tree ♪