Happyish (2015): Season 1, Episode 3 - Starring Vladimir Nabokov, Hippocrates and God - full transcript
Thom receives differing ideas on the meaning of suffering after Julius gets ill.
This is God.
God can do anything,
but there's one thing He can't do.
Not now, not ever. God can't die.
God is eternal, you see?
God has to be eternal.
That's the whole idea of God.
So the moment God can
die, He's no longer God,
and so God should shut the fuck up.
Walk a mile in my
terrified mortal shoes, God.
Lie in the dark, knowing nothing of
the dark eternal nothing that follows.
Then you can judge me.
Until then, fuck off. Fuck you, God.
Stop it.
Stop what?
Picturing him dead. It's a bug.
- I'm not picturing him dead.
- Yes, you are.
I'm picturing him dying.
Mm, much better.
Dying's worse than death.
Once you're dead, it's over.
If you're dying, you're still
hoping you'll pull through.
Which, of course, you won't.
It's... it's the hope that causes the pain.
Well, whichever is more
agonizing for you, dear.
Hmm.
Come on, you can't fire Larry.
He's just had a baby.
Larry's kid is in college.
But he's got baby photographs
all over his office.
They're stock photos.
He puts them up so we don't fire him.
That's genius.
I mean, do you want to
fire that kind of genius?
- I don't want to fire anybody.
- What about Debbie?
You're head of Production,
David. Debbie's an AE.
Why don't you offer up someone
from your own fucking department?
Debbie's been around a long time, Jon.
- 20 years.
- That's the point.
That's two years' severance. It'd be
cheaper to keep her than to fire her.
Guys, we're creating a
better and smarter MGT.
Every act of creation
is an act of destruction.
Gustaff reminds us of eggs and omelets.
- What about Michael?
- We're not firing Michael.
He's a pain in the ass, Thom.
All good people are a
pain in the ass, David.
Stick to your own Goddamn department.
- I can drop Vince.
- We can't drop Vince.
- Because he's black?
- 'Cause no one else is.
Look, nobody gets to
play Jesus on this one.
Every soul you save today
is another soul you condemn tomorrow,
so climb down off your crosses,
take off your thorned crowns,
and make the difficult decisions
you guys get paid to make.
We're gonna start with Larry.
I'm gonna think about Debbie.
Maya, I need four from
your department total.
David, I need two from yours.
Why does the Planning Department
need to lose twice as many as Production?
Account is losing 14.
You're welcome to stay for
the next meeting if you want.
Hey, guys. Come on in.
I need a caffeine enema.
No, I'm not kidding you.
I'm so freakin' tired.
What did you guys do?
Oh, no.
Dude, Jennifer's got that bug now.
She's not going to school today.
Well, yeah, last night was really
rough, but I think we're over the hump.
His fever's gone. You know what's amazing?
- What fluids and rest will do for you.
- Mom?
No, let the body do its thang, you know.
It's like fresh air.
It's gonna do more for you
than any fuckin' doctor.
- Mom.
- Honey, I'm on the phone.
Oh, shit. Oh, shit.
Buddy. Oh, no.
Oh, that feels not fun.
Didn't Razorfish just lose Microsoft?
They went to IPG in May
and they already have a creative director.
Yeah, I'm thinking account executive.
Oh, you're gonna move
to the account side now?
Not for me, for Debbie.
I mean, do you know anyone there?
Can you just see if they're looking?
- Is she?
- She might be.
- Bad?
- Might be.
You know, Thom, you have
your own job to worry about.
Well, I... I can worry about many things.
You know, I can multi-worry.
You know the only business
worse than advertising?
It's the messiah business.
Go. The pay is lousy,
the only benefit is self-congratulations,
and the saved don't stay saved very long.
Trust me, it's the
foundation of my entire career
as a headhunter.
- Tall tea with honey and lemon?
- Thanks.
So?
There's nothing moving out there, Thom.
Nothing?
Venti espresso?
Okay, I'll make some calls.
What is this? Why do I get that?
It's about creative priorities.
And New York Life is not one of them.
The team has done all
they can on this account,
but I say to hell with them.
So you want to let them go?
I think it's a relic of the old MGT,
and we're busy now.
I mean, we have the Coke pitch coming up,
Rob Reiner wants to shoot
the Keebler campaign.
Man is a legend.
Thom, isn't the army coming in tomorrow
- to do some new project?
- Mm-hmm.
And, Debbie, you have the meeting
with "I Can't Believe It's Butter."
I mean, that is a big,
big creative opportunity.
I don't want to be wasting time
with this... this New York Life.
We had a layoffs meeting this morning,
and you're gonna let a $35
million account walk out the door?
We're trying to build this
into a creative shop, Thom.
New York Life is never going to let us
do the kind of work we want to do.
Business today moves at the speed of ideas.
You don't have to like it,
but you cannot ignore it.
I'm claiming no fault
on this one, Jonathan.
The whole insurance category
went comedy a few years ago,
and New York Life insisted
on staying with tragedy,
and now they're getting their butts kicked
by the GEICO Geckos and the AFLAC gooses
and the Charlie Browns of this world
and blaming it on us.
So what?
Instead of saving the patient,
we're just gonna let it die?
I mean, if they want comedy,
fuck it, let's give them comedy.
How much time did they give us?
None. They're coming in Friday.
It's a formality. Review starts Monday.
Well, if anybody has
any creative brainstorms,
we'll give it a shot.
Otherwise, Gottfrid, it's your call.
Thank you.
Hey, Larry, are you okay?
Larry?
Oh, what you doing, Thom?
Oh, fuck off.
They're just profiting from your fear.
If you make one stupid Gecko joke,
I swear I will kick your fucking teeth in.
- Fear of what?
- Death, mate.
The big sleep. Look at all this shit.
Long life, more energy, tighter skin.
You know what would happen
if Julius took every one of those vitamins
every day for the rest of his life?
- What?
- He'd die.
He'd drop fucking dead,
just like everyone else.
You're gonna die one day, Thom.
So is Lee. And so is Julius.
So what do you suggest
I do about it, asshole?
Walk around making profoundly lame jokes
whilst whistling past the graveyard?
No, not whistling, mate, laughing.
Laughing's all we have.
"Against the assault of laughter,"
said Mark Twain, "nothing can stand."
Uh, also, mate... hello?
Geckos can't whistle.
I warned you, didn't I?
The problem is I'm Catholic.
That's what pisses me off
about God so much.
He can never know us, but the
Bible commands us to know Him.
So, after 44 years, here's
what I know about God...
the bastard loves an unhappy ending.
Jesus saves occasionally,
but God, God kills with
frightening regularity.
What is it?
102.6.
- We should give him something.
- I gave him Tylenol.
Well, then we should
give him something else.
You're not helping, Thom.
That's why I want to give
him something, to help him.
What do you want me to give him?
I don't know... Sudafed,
Robitussin, Mylanta?
- Mylanta?
- Something. Anything.
It's all bullshit, Thom.
Lee, you're a skeptic.
That's why I love you.
But to call all medicine
bullshit is a bit much.
Besides, you're Jewish.
Oh, what does that mean?
You have a thing for suffering.
It's... it gets you hot.
Oh, and you chug medicine
because you're a Catholic.
You think God is gonna kill you.
No, I think God is trying
to kill him to get to me.
All my mother ever did was
pour medicine down my throat.
I was a Jew living on St. Joseph's Aspirin.
It never made me feel any better.
Check the label on these things.
Half the crap is sugar.
It just makes it worse.
- Shh.
- Yeah, it just makes it worse.
That's why Africans would kill
for a teaspoon of Robitussin,
because it makes it worse.
You're in advertising, Thom.
How can you believe their bullshit?
If Robitussin is all we have in our battle
against the great asshole in the sky,
then I'll take the Robitussin.
You want to give him
something, give him something.
So what do you think I should give him.
Jesus Christ.
These may be our enemies abroad,
but, Generals, these
are our enemies at home.
Parents.
Well-meaning, but a pain in the ass.
Only 25% of parents today
would encourage their
children to join the military.
Fuckin' boomers.
Never met an enemy they didn't like.
Yes. The good news...
children over 18 can enlist
whether Mom likes it or not.
We just need to remind them
what else Mom doesn't like.
She doesn't like their rap music,
she doesn't like their video games,
and she doesn't like their friends.
The message needs to be,
"You've never listened
to your parents before,
why should you listen to them now?"
Thom, you feel bad about
every army assignment.
That's why we love you.
General, Julius is sick,
and I keep picturing him dying,
so it's, you know, kind of tough
encouraging other children to maybe die.
We all die, Thom. The
question is how we live.
Maybe I should enlist.
I'll bring Julius. Take
Your Son to War Day.
I'm hoping we don't get that desperate.
Be good.
Look, don't get me wrong.
I love this concept.
You know me. I embrace reality.
I love the fact that you
want to imbue these characters
with real emotions, real feelings,
flesh-and-blood characters
that will live with the
audience long after they've gone.
To hell with neorealism, huh?
Whatever happened to actual realism.
- Am I right?
- Yeah, totally.
Yes, but the problem you have here,
these scripts are...
- They're not real.
- Okay.
No, no, no. I mean, what do you got here?
What do you have here?
You got "Fast Eddie Gets an F."
"Buckets Loses a Race."
We have an opportunity here
to do something that resonates.
You know, a... Weltanschauung, if you will.
- Right.
- Think Cassavetes.
Think the Maysle brothers.
That's what we're talking about here.
- I love Cassavetes.
- I know, I get it.
They're little people, it's gonna be funny.
I get that.
But why can't we give them real problems?
And I'm not saying that, you
know, J.J. should get cancer
or that Mom should discover that
she's got early-onset Alzheimer's
or something like that.
But what I'm saying is Nabokov says
you put the characters up in a tree
and then you throw rocks at 'em, right?
I mean, look, they want reality,
let's give 'em reality, huh?
- Cassavetes.
- Yes. Cin?ma v?rit?.
Love, life, hatred, anger,
violence, injustice.
All the wonderful frailty
of the human condition.
What do you say?
Can you knock out four
or five of these by lunch?
Uh, yeah. Happy to.
Great. I love it.
I can't believe we're shopping
when New York Life is about to walk.
I'm not shopping for
me. I'm shopping for you.
I... well, no, thanks.
Just how much of an
asshole do you have to be
to keep your job these days?
Give a man a fish, you feed him for a day.
You teach a man to dress,
he holds onto his
shallow, meaningless career
for another couple of years.
That's a lot of cat.
New York Life is gonna
walk no matter what we do.
I'm just letting Gottfrid own it.
It's Debbie's biggest account.
Yeah, you follow your heart, Thom.
That's why you're failing.
Don't fall on your sword for Debbie.
Yeah, well, you follow your head,
which is why you're an alcoholic.
You know, it's bad enough
that Julius is gonna die,
but I really don't want to be standing
in a Jack Spade store when he does.
Why is Julius dying this time?
He has a bug.
So I spent all day
imagining him being dead.
Julius isn't dying. I'm dying.
Julius is gonna be fine.
Yeah, well, we're all dying.
Not as quickly as me.
What are you talking about?
That's exactly what I said.
"What are you talking about?"
They said, "We don't know."
Wait, wait, wait. They? Who's they?
- What the fuck are you talking about?
- The doctors.
What doctors?
Don't give me that look, Thom.
And don't say shit about this to anybody
or you're gonna have the Swedes
as global creative directors as well.
They're doing tests.
That's what they do when
you're 52; they do tests.
It's when they stop doing
tests that you gotta worry.
- Tests for what?
- Everything.
Gall bladder, pancreas, liver, cancer.
Cirrhosis, fibro-fucking-myalgia.
Could be the vodka. Could be
the whiskey. Could be the gin.
If you ask me, it's
fucking vegetable juice.
I'm seeing this girl, she got
me into this juice thing...
kale, spinach, carrots, celery.
It's gonna fucking kill
me. I'm telling you.
After all these years
of alcohol and tobacco,
my body just can't
tolerate vitamins anymore.
Medium asshole?
Oh, fuck. I'm fired.
You're not fired.
- Am I fired?
- Nobody's fired.
Do you remember the campaign
we presented to Tylenol?
The shit fan.
- The giant shit fan?
- I loved that campaign.
Write it up for New York Life.
They're coming in tomorrow.
Debbie'll get you the
brief and support points.
Key frame, 160, throw in some digital shit.
We're saving this account.
Oh, Jesus. Fuck. We're
losing New York Life now?
No. No, we're not losing New York Life.
They want funny, we'll give 'em funny.
I'm not one of those mothers...
has to bring her kid to the
doctor for every little thing.
You ask me, I think science
is the West's new religion,
and I wasn't that crazy about the old one.
Scientists have become
our popes, rabbis, imams.
Question it, you're a fool.
Doubt it, you're a sinner.
That's the way all
religion works out, right?
Absolute belief.
It's not a placebo, it's not a sugar pill.
It's not just letting the body
do what nature taught it to do.
Behold, it's a miracle
from the new god... science.
For you have found favor in his eyes.
It's gonna be 23 bucks a pill.
It's a bug.
- That's it?
- That's it.
Well, aren't you gonna give him something?
- It's going around.
- Yeah, I know it's going around.
My son has it.
You could try Robitussin.
Robitussin.
That's your big cure, Robitussin.
Robitussin is just relief, Mrs. Payne.
Cures are God's business.
But you're a doctor!
- What did they say?
- They said they don't know.
They said they'll do some tests.
That's what they do at
my age; they do tests.
I went to look at that new
cookie factory down the road.
Cookie Manufacturers International.
And?
They got a machine there,
Ma. You should see it.
It's as big as the Hollow Tree itself.
In one hour, they can make 2,000 cookies,
package 'em, box 'em, and ship 'em out.
So what's the good news?
The cookies taste like crap.
It still takes a Keebler to
make a Keebler, gosh darn it.
- How's Fast Eddie?
- His fever's coming down.
We're not out of the woods
yet, though, but we're close.
Fast Eddie!
You feeling better, son?
I thought I smelled cookies.
Okay, okay, that's good. That's good.
Very good, excellent.
Um, let's try it one more time
from Fast Eddie's entrance,
and, um, this time, I want you to think...
"I saved the cat, and yet I am the cat."
See? See what I'm getting at there?
- See? We're...
- Yeah, yeah. Okay, thanks.
Okay, good. All right, let's try it again.
All right, here we go. Okay. All right.
Quiet, quiet.
- Fast Eddie.
- You feeling better, son?
I thought I smelled cookies.
Okay, that... that's good.
Great. I love it. I love it.
Uh, but on the day,
I want you to get under
the skin of Fast Eddie.
I want to feel the relief that he feels
when he faces this brush with death, okay?
- Great, thank you.
- Okay, good, terrific.
Hey.
- Good, yes?
- Those scripts, yes.
Yeah, a bit more life than before.
- Up a tree, no?
- Yeah.
You know, let's just keep writing more
and we'll see where they go.
Yeah? Thom, you can knock out
a few more tonight, can't you?
- Happy to.
- Lovely. Fantastic.
- Great work.
- Thank you.
- We worked a lot on this one.
- Well, it shows.
Oi...
What's 13 inches long
and makes women moan all night long?
Fuck off.
Crib death. Get it?
You're a fucking asshole.
Hey, what'd you call me?
I called you a fucking
asshole, you fucking asshole.
What? Fuck you, Thom.
Excuse me?
How easy you humans have it.
Let me tell you something about geckos.
We can't blink.
We see everything...
death, disease, every second of it.
You humans blink, what?
10,000 times a day? 15,000?
But we geckos don't get
to close our eyes, Thom.
We don't get to look away.
It's "A Clockwork Orange"
in here, motherfucker.
We see it all!
So, yeah, we laugh, we joke, we chuckle,
because that's all we can do.
Try walking around with a
frontal lobe, motherfucker,
knowing you're gonna die.
Knowing your son is gonna die.
Knowing Lee is gonna die,
that Jonathan is gonna die!
Oh, woe is me.
I'm a sad human.
Why do bad things happen to good people?
Fuck you!
How many times did you
blink today asshole, huh?
How many?
My legs. I can't feel my legs.
Aah!
See, that's the problem with the Bible.
Joy is just a setup.
You're in Eden, now get the fuck out.
You escape Egypt, now
you're lost in the desert.
"I gave you my only begotten son.
Whoops, now he's dead."
How's Julius?
He's sleeping.
- Robitussin?
- Mm-hmm.
His fever's finally down.
He's not out of the woods
yet, but he's closer.
I think I figured out why my
mom gave me so much medicine.
To make you feel better?
No, to make herself feel better.
I guess that's why
happiness makes me nervous.
God's got his characters up a tree
and the bastard is throwing bricks.
Somewhere out there, there's a fan.
We don't know who put it there,
and we don't know why.
The one thing we do know
is that one day, sooner or later,
the fan will point at you.
That's why New York Life gives you
the best coverage in the industry,
because whenit hits the fan,
we've got you covered.
New York Life... you're covered.
And we thought you could give these out
to your new clients, 'cause, you know,
'cause you're covered.
From... from the shit.
I don't know.
It's... it's funny, but I...
It's not our kind of funny.
I don't know.
Well, you do, though.
You do know, you know?
That's what's special about New York Life.
Look, you asked for comedy
and we gave you comedy,
and maybe we shouldn't have.
Because you know what we all know...
life is a tragedy, we die, all of us.
It's an unhappy ending every time.
A smart-ass gecko isn't gonna change that.
Charlie Brown doing a commercial
for Met Life isn't gonna change that.
I mean, Charlie Brown.
Charlie Brown was born in 1946.
I know that, because I was
obsessed with him as a kid.
I finally found someone whose depression
was worse than mine.
What does that make him? 70 years old?
70. So, Chuck's parents, dead.
Snoopy, dead.
The Snoopy they bought
to replace Snoopy, dead.
Lucy has got Alzheimer's
and Linus is riding around in
one of those mobility scooters
bitching about Obama and "secret Muslims."
That's life.
And you're right, it's not funny.
And New York Life knows that.
You're the adults in the room.
Stay that way.
Fuck GEICO and AFLAC and
all that lame-ass comedy.
Stop worrying about what's
going on at the kid's table.
Sure, it's loud and it sounds like fun,
but when tragedy strikes,
when lightning flashes and thunder claps,
the terrified kids, and
we're all terrified kids,
will come looking for the grownups.
You.
- Hello, Jon.
- How are you, man?
Shitty. Why?
They dropped us, brother.
New York Life.
How's Debbie?
She's drinking.
As am I.
You did everything you could, Thom,
and at the end of the day,
this is a mark against Gottfrid.
You got to stop trying
to save everyone, Thom.
I mean, these days it's
hard enough to save yourself.
I mean, Jesus only brought one guy back
from the dead, and it was his best friend.
That's not a great lesson for the kids.
Thom?
Fucker hung up on me.
I heard they were lovers.
Jesus and Lazarus?
I thought it was Judas that fucked Jesus.
You know there's no hope
of a relationship here.
It's the hope that causes pain.
Oh, come on, mate.
You don't see the humor in this?
An insurance company
wanting to pursue comedy
that ends in tragedy?
That's funny.
An ad exec trying to save himself
by saving another ad exec?
A man trying to save his son
while convincing other sons to go to war?
It's fucking hilarious!
You might be right.
Of course I'm right.
It's only tragedy
when you don't see the comedy, Thom.
It's only tragedy...
when you don't see the comedy.
Thom? Thom!
No!
Asshole.
Damn you, Thom. Fuck you.
Hey.
- How is Jules?
- 99.
Mm, okay.
- What about you?
- 102.
Oh, boy.
"Dear Jesus," Nabokov wrote,
"do something."
Oh, shit!
I'm so sorry.
It's okay, honey. Don't worry.
I think it looks better with the puke.
I do, honestly. I think it's more punk.
That's why you have to laugh,
so that when you die and go to wherever
and God says, "How'd you like
that cancer I gave you, sinner?
How'd you like that AIDS and that war
and that misery and all that lovely pain?"
you get to fold your arms
across your chest, smile,
and say, "Fuck you, asshole. I laughed."
I should have gotten large.
Yeah?
God can do anything,
but there's one thing He can't do.
Not now, not ever. God can't die.
God is eternal, you see?
God has to be eternal.
That's the whole idea of God.
So the moment God can
die, He's no longer God,
and so God should shut the fuck up.
Walk a mile in my
terrified mortal shoes, God.
Lie in the dark, knowing nothing of
the dark eternal nothing that follows.
Then you can judge me.
Until then, fuck off. Fuck you, God.
Stop it.
Stop what?
Picturing him dead. It's a bug.
- I'm not picturing him dead.
- Yes, you are.
I'm picturing him dying.
Mm, much better.
Dying's worse than death.
Once you're dead, it's over.
If you're dying, you're still
hoping you'll pull through.
Which, of course, you won't.
It's... it's the hope that causes the pain.
Well, whichever is more
agonizing for you, dear.
Hmm.
Come on, you can't fire Larry.
He's just had a baby.
Larry's kid is in college.
But he's got baby photographs
all over his office.
They're stock photos.
He puts them up so we don't fire him.
That's genius.
I mean, do you want to
fire that kind of genius?
- I don't want to fire anybody.
- What about Debbie?
You're head of Production,
David. Debbie's an AE.
Why don't you offer up someone
from your own fucking department?
Debbie's been around a long time, Jon.
- 20 years.
- That's the point.
That's two years' severance. It'd be
cheaper to keep her than to fire her.
Guys, we're creating a
better and smarter MGT.
Every act of creation
is an act of destruction.
Gustaff reminds us of eggs and omelets.
- What about Michael?
- We're not firing Michael.
He's a pain in the ass, Thom.
All good people are a
pain in the ass, David.
Stick to your own Goddamn department.
- I can drop Vince.
- We can't drop Vince.
- Because he's black?
- 'Cause no one else is.
Look, nobody gets to
play Jesus on this one.
Every soul you save today
is another soul you condemn tomorrow,
so climb down off your crosses,
take off your thorned crowns,
and make the difficult decisions
you guys get paid to make.
We're gonna start with Larry.
I'm gonna think about Debbie.
Maya, I need four from
your department total.
David, I need two from yours.
Why does the Planning Department
need to lose twice as many as Production?
Account is losing 14.
You're welcome to stay for
the next meeting if you want.
Hey, guys. Come on in.
I need a caffeine enema.
No, I'm not kidding you.
I'm so freakin' tired.
What did you guys do?
Oh, no.
Dude, Jennifer's got that bug now.
She's not going to school today.
Well, yeah, last night was really
rough, but I think we're over the hump.
His fever's gone. You know what's amazing?
- What fluids and rest will do for you.
- Mom?
No, let the body do its thang, you know.
It's like fresh air.
It's gonna do more for you
than any fuckin' doctor.
- Mom.
- Honey, I'm on the phone.
Oh, shit. Oh, shit.
Buddy. Oh, no.
Oh, that feels not fun.
Didn't Razorfish just lose Microsoft?
They went to IPG in May
and they already have a creative director.
Yeah, I'm thinking account executive.
Oh, you're gonna move
to the account side now?
Not for me, for Debbie.
I mean, do you know anyone there?
Can you just see if they're looking?
- Is she?
- She might be.
- Bad?
- Might be.
You know, Thom, you have
your own job to worry about.
Well, I... I can worry about many things.
You know, I can multi-worry.
You know the only business
worse than advertising?
It's the messiah business.
Go. The pay is lousy,
the only benefit is self-congratulations,
and the saved don't stay saved very long.
Trust me, it's the
foundation of my entire career
as a headhunter.
- Tall tea with honey and lemon?
- Thanks.
So?
There's nothing moving out there, Thom.
Nothing?
Venti espresso?
Okay, I'll make some calls.
What is this? Why do I get that?
It's about creative priorities.
And New York Life is not one of them.
The team has done all
they can on this account,
but I say to hell with them.
So you want to let them go?
I think it's a relic of the old MGT,
and we're busy now.
I mean, we have the Coke pitch coming up,
Rob Reiner wants to shoot
the Keebler campaign.
Man is a legend.
Thom, isn't the army coming in tomorrow
- to do some new project?
- Mm-hmm.
And, Debbie, you have the meeting
with "I Can't Believe It's Butter."
I mean, that is a big,
big creative opportunity.
I don't want to be wasting time
with this... this New York Life.
We had a layoffs meeting this morning,
and you're gonna let a $35
million account walk out the door?
We're trying to build this
into a creative shop, Thom.
New York Life is never going to let us
do the kind of work we want to do.
Business today moves at the speed of ideas.
You don't have to like it,
but you cannot ignore it.
I'm claiming no fault
on this one, Jonathan.
The whole insurance category
went comedy a few years ago,
and New York Life insisted
on staying with tragedy,
and now they're getting their butts kicked
by the GEICO Geckos and the AFLAC gooses
and the Charlie Browns of this world
and blaming it on us.
So what?
Instead of saving the patient,
we're just gonna let it die?
I mean, if they want comedy,
fuck it, let's give them comedy.
How much time did they give us?
None. They're coming in Friday.
It's a formality. Review starts Monday.
Well, if anybody has
any creative brainstorms,
we'll give it a shot.
Otherwise, Gottfrid, it's your call.
Thank you.
Hey, Larry, are you okay?
Larry?
Oh, what you doing, Thom?
Oh, fuck off.
They're just profiting from your fear.
If you make one stupid Gecko joke,
I swear I will kick your fucking teeth in.
- Fear of what?
- Death, mate.
The big sleep. Look at all this shit.
Long life, more energy, tighter skin.
You know what would happen
if Julius took every one of those vitamins
every day for the rest of his life?
- What?
- He'd die.
He'd drop fucking dead,
just like everyone else.
You're gonna die one day, Thom.
So is Lee. And so is Julius.
So what do you suggest
I do about it, asshole?
Walk around making profoundly lame jokes
whilst whistling past the graveyard?
No, not whistling, mate, laughing.
Laughing's all we have.
"Against the assault of laughter,"
said Mark Twain, "nothing can stand."
Uh, also, mate... hello?
Geckos can't whistle.
I warned you, didn't I?
The problem is I'm Catholic.
That's what pisses me off
about God so much.
He can never know us, but the
Bible commands us to know Him.
So, after 44 years, here's
what I know about God...
the bastard loves an unhappy ending.
Jesus saves occasionally,
but God, God kills with
frightening regularity.
What is it?
102.6.
- We should give him something.
- I gave him Tylenol.
Well, then we should
give him something else.
You're not helping, Thom.
That's why I want to give
him something, to help him.
What do you want me to give him?
I don't know... Sudafed,
Robitussin, Mylanta?
- Mylanta?
- Something. Anything.
It's all bullshit, Thom.
Lee, you're a skeptic.
That's why I love you.
But to call all medicine
bullshit is a bit much.
Besides, you're Jewish.
Oh, what does that mean?
You have a thing for suffering.
It's... it gets you hot.
Oh, and you chug medicine
because you're a Catholic.
You think God is gonna kill you.
No, I think God is trying
to kill him to get to me.
All my mother ever did was
pour medicine down my throat.
I was a Jew living on St. Joseph's Aspirin.
It never made me feel any better.
Check the label on these things.
Half the crap is sugar.
It just makes it worse.
- Shh.
- Yeah, it just makes it worse.
That's why Africans would kill
for a teaspoon of Robitussin,
because it makes it worse.
You're in advertising, Thom.
How can you believe their bullshit?
If Robitussin is all we have in our battle
against the great asshole in the sky,
then I'll take the Robitussin.
You want to give him
something, give him something.
So what do you think I should give him.
Jesus Christ.
These may be our enemies abroad,
but, Generals, these
are our enemies at home.
Parents.
Well-meaning, but a pain in the ass.
Only 25% of parents today
would encourage their
children to join the military.
Fuckin' boomers.
Never met an enemy they didn't like.
Yes. The good news...
children over 18 can enlist
whether Mom likes it or not.
We just need to remind them
what else Mom doesn't like.
She doesn't like their rap music,
she doesn't like their video games,
and she doesn't like their friends.
The message needs to be,
"You've never listened
to your parents before,
why should you listen to them now?"
Thom, you feel bad about
every army assignment.
That's why we love you.
General, Julius is sick,
and I keep picturing him dying,
so it's, you know, kind of tough
encouraging other children to maybe die.
We all die, Thom. The
question is how we live.
Maybe I should enlist.
I'll bring Julius. Take
Your Son to War Day.
I'm hoping we don't get that desperate.
Be good.
Look, don't get me wrong.
I love this concept.
You know me. I embrace reality.
I love the fact that you
want to imbue these characters
with real emotions, real feelings,
flesh-and-blood characters
that will live with the
audience long after they've gone.
To hell with neorealism, huh?
Whatever happened to actual realism.
- Am I right?
- Yeah, totally.
Yes, but the problem you have here,
these scripts are...
- They're not real.
- Okay.
No, no, no. I mean, what do you got here?
What do you have here?
You got "Fast Eddie Gets an F."
"Buckets Loses a Race."
We have an opportunity here
to do something that resonates.
You know, a... Weltanschauung, if you will.
- Right.
- Think Cassavetes.
Think the Maysle brothers.
That's what we're talking about here.
- I love Cassavetes.
- I know, I get it.
They're little people, it's gonna be funny.
I get that.
But why can't we give them real problems?
And I'm not saying that, you
know, J.J. should get cancer
or that Mom should discover that
she's got early-onset Alzheimer's
or something like that.
But what I'm saying is Nabokov says
you put the characters up in a tree
and then you throw rocks at 'em, right?
I mean, look, they want reality,
let's give 'em reality, huh?
- Cassavetes.
- Yes. Cin?ma v?rit?.
Love, life, hatred, anger,
violence, injustice.
All the wonderful frailty
of the human condition.
What do you say?
Can you knock out four
or five of these by lunch?
Uh, yeah. Happy to.
Great. I love it.
I can't believe we're shopping
when New York Life is about to walk.
I'm not shopping for
me. I'm shopping for you.
I... well, no, thanks.
Just how much of an
asshole do you have to be
to keep your job these days?
Give a man a fish, you feed him for a day.
You teach a man to dress,
he holds onto his
shallow, meaningless career
for another couple of years.
That's a lot of cat.
New York Life is gonna
walk no matter what we do.
I'm just letting Gottfrid own it.
It's Debbie's biggest account.
Yeah, you follow your heart, Thom.
That's why you're failing.
Don't fall on your sword for Debbie.
Yeah, well, you follow your head,
which is why you're an alcoholic.
You know, it's bad enough
that Julius is gonna die,
but I really don't want to be standing
in a Jack Spade store when he does.
Why is Julius dying this time?
He has a bug.
So I spent all day
imagining him being dead.
Julius isn't dying. I'm dying.
Julius is gonna be fine.
Yeah, well, we're all dying.
Not as quickly as me.
What are you talking about?
That's exactly what I said.
"What are you talking about?"
They said, "We don't know."
Wait, wait, wait. They? Who's they?
- What the fuck are you talking about?
- The doctors.
What doctors?
Don't give me that look, Thom.
And don't say shit about this to anybody
or you're gonna have the Swedes
as global creative directors as well.
They're doing tests.
That's what they do when
you're 52; they do tests.
It's when they stop doing
tests that you gotta worry.
- Tests for what?
- Everything.
Gall bladder, pancreas, liver, cancer.
Cirrhosis, fibro-fucking-myalgia.
Could be the vodka. Could be
the whiskey. Could be the gin.
If you ask me, it's
fucking vegetable juice.
I'm seeing this girl, she got
me into this juice thing...
kale, spinach, carrots, celery.
It's gonna fucking kill
me. I'm telling you.
After all these years
of alcohol and tobacco,
my body just can't
tolerate vitamins anymore.
Medium asshole?
Oh, fuck. I'm fired.
You're not fired.
- Am I fired?
- Nobody's fired.
Do you remember the campaign
we presented to Tylenol?
The shit fan.
- The giant shit fan?
- I loved that campaign.
Write it up for New York Life.
They're coming in tomorrow.
Debbie'll get you the
brief and support points.
Key frame, 160, throw in some digital shit.
We're saving this account.
Oh, Jesus. Fuck. We're
losing New York Life now?
No. No, we're not losing New York Life.
They want funny, we'll give 'em funny.
I'm not one of those mothers...
has to bring her kid to the
doctor for every little thing.
You ask me, I think science
is the West's new religion,
and I wasn't that crazy about the old one.
Scientists have become
our popes, rabbis, imams.
Question it, you're a fool.
Doubt it, you're a sinner.
That's the way all
religion works out, right?
Absolute belief.
It's not a placebo, it's not a sugar pill.
It's not just letting the body
do what nature taught it to do.
Behold, it's a miracle
from the new god... science.
For you have found favor in his eyes.
It's gonna be 23 bucks a pill.
It's a bug.
- That's it?
- That's it.
Well, aren't you gonna give him something?
- It's going around.
- Yeah, I know it's going around.
My son has it.
You could try Robitussin.
Robitussin.
That's your big cure, Robitussin.
Robitussin is just relief, Mrs. Payne.
Cures are God's business.
But you're a doctor!
- What did they say?
- They said they don't know.
They said they'll do some tests.
That's what they do at
my age; they do tests.
I went to look at that new
cookie factory down the road.
Cookie Manufacturers International.
And?
They got a machine there,
Ma. You should see it.
It's as big as the Hollow Tree itself.
In one hour, they can make 2,000 cookies,
package 'em, box 'em, and ship 'em out.
So what's the good news?
The cookies taste like crap.
It still takes a Keebler to
make a Keebler, gosh darn it.
- How's Fast Eddie?
- His fever's coming down.
We're not out of the woods
yet, though, but we're close.
Fast Eddie!
You feeling better, son?
I thought I smelled cookies.
Okay, okay, that's good. That's good.
Very good, excellent.
Um, let's try it one more time
from Fast Eddie's entrance,
and, um, this time, I want you to think...
"I saved the cat, and yet I am the cat."
See? See what I'm getting at there?
- See? We're...
- Yeah, yeah. Okay, thanks.
Okay, good. All right, let's try it again.
All right, here we go. Okay. All right.
Quiet, quiet.
- Fast Eddie.
- You feeling better, son?
I thought I smelled cookies.
Okay, that... that's good.
Great. I love it. I love it.
Uh, but on the day,
I want you to get under
the skin of Fast Eddie.
I want to feel the relief that he feels
when he faces this brush with death, okay?
- Great, thank you.
- Okay, good, terrific.
Hey.
- Good, yes?
- Those scripts, yes.
Yeah, a bit more life than before.
- Up a tree, no?
- Yeah.
You know, let's just keep writing more
and we'll see where they go.
Yeah? Thom, you can knock out
a few more tonight, can't you?
- Happy to.
- Lovely. Fantastic.
- Great work.
- Thank you.
- We worked a lot on this one.
- Well, it shows.
Oi...
What's 13 inches long
and makes women moan all night long?
Fuck off.
Crib death. Get it?
You're a fucking asshole.
Hey, what'd you call me?
I called you a fucking
asshole, you fucking asshole.
What? Fuck you, Thom.
Excuse me?
How easy you humans have it.
Let me tell you something about geckos.
We can't blink.
We see everything...
death, disease, every second of it.
You humans blink, what?
10,000 times a day? 15,000?
But we geckos don't get
to close our eyes, Thom.
We don't get to look away.
It's "A Clockwork Orange"
in here, motherfucker.
We see it all!
So, yeah, we laugh, we joke, we chuckle,
because that's all we can do.
Try walking around with a
frontal lobe, motherfucker,
knowing you're gonna die.
Knowing your son is gonna die.
Knowing Lee is gonna die,
that Jonathan is gonna die!
Oh, woe is me.
I'm a sad human.
Why do bad things happen to good people?
Fuck you!
How many times did you
blink today asshole, huh?
How many?
My legs. I can't feel my legs.
Aah!
See, that's the problem with the Bible.
Joy is just a setup.
You're in Eden, now get the fuck out.
You escape Egypt, now
you're lost in the desert.
"I gave you my only begotten son.
Whoops, now he's dead."
How's Julius?
He's sleeping.
- Robitussin?
- Mm-hmm.
His fever's finally down.
He's not out of the woods
yet, but he's closer.
I think I figured out why my
mom gave me so much medicine.
To make you feel better?
No, to make herself feel better.
I guess that's why
happiness makes me nervous.
God's got his characters up a tree
and the bastard is throwing bricks.
Somewhere out there, there's a fan.
We don't know who put it there,
and we don't know why.
The one thing we do know
is that one day, sooner or later,
the fan will point at you.
That's why New York Life gives you
the best coverage in the industry,
because whenit hits the fan,
we've got you covered.
New York Life... you're covered.
And we thought you could give these out
to your new clients, 'cause, you know,
'cause you're covered.
From... from the shit.
I don't know.
It's... it's funny, but I...
It's not our kind of funny.
I don't know.
Well, you do, though.
You do know, you know?
That's what's special about New York Life.
Look, you asked for comedy
and we gave you comedy,
and maybe we shouldn't have.
Because you know what we all know...
life is a tragedy, we die, all of us.
It's an unhappy ending every time.
A smart-ass gecko isn't gonna change that.
Charlie Brown doing a commercial
for Met Life isn't gonna change that.
I mean, Charlie Brown.
Charlie Brown was born in 1946.
I know that, because I was
obsessed with him as a kid.
I finally found someone whose depression
was worse than mine.
What does that make him? 70 years old?
70. So, Chuck's parents, dead.
Snoopy, dead.
The Snoopy they bought
to replace Snoopy, dead.
Lucy has got Alzheimer's
and Linus is riding around in
one of those mobility scooters
bitching about Obama and "secret Muslims."
That's life.
And you're right, it's not funny.
And New York Life knows that.
You're the adults in the room.
Stay that way.
Fuck GEICO and AFLAC and
all that lame-ass comedy.
Stop worrying about what's
going on at the kid's table.
Sure, it's loud and it sounds like fun,
but when tragedy strikes,
when lightning flashes and thunder claps,
the terrified kids, and
we're all terrified kids,
will come looking for the grownups.
You.
- Hello, Jon.
- How are you, man?
Shitty. Why?
They dropped us, brother.
New York Life.
How's Debbie?
She's drinking.
As am I.
You did everything you could, Thom,
and at the end of the day,
this is a mark against Gottfrid.
You got to stop trying
to save everyone, Thom.
I mean, these days it's
hard enough to save yourself.
I mean, Jesus only brought one guy back
from the dead, and it was his best friend.
That's not a great lesson for the kids.
Thom?
Fucker hung up on me.
I heard they were lovers.
Jesus and Lazarus?
I thought it was Judas that fucked Jesus.
You know there's no hope
of a relationship here.
It's the hope that causes pain.
Oh, come on, mate.
You don't see the humor in this?
An insurance company
wanting to pursue comedy
that ends in tragedy?
That's funny.
An ad exec trying to save himself
by saving another ad exec?
A man trying to save his son
while convincing other sons to go to war?
It's fucking hilarious!
You might be right.
Of course I'm right.
It's only tragedy
when you don't see the comedy, Thom.
It's only tragedy...
when you don't see the comedy.
Thom? Thom!
No!
Asshole.
Damn you, Thom. Fuck you.
Hey.
- How is Jules?
- 99.
Mm, okay.
- What about you?
- 102.
Oh, boy.
"Dear Jesus," Nabokov wrote,
"do something."
Oh, shit!
I'm so sorry.
It's okay, honey. Don't worry.
I think it looks better with the puke.
I do, honestly. I think it's more punk.
That's why you have to laugh,
so that when you die and go to wherever
and God says, "How'd you like
that cancer I gave you, sinner?
How'd you like that AIDS and that war
and that misery and all that lovely pain?"
you get to fold your arms
across your chest, smile,
and say, "Fuck you, asshole. I laughed."
I should have gotten large.
Yeah?