In Treatment (2008–2010): Season 1, Episode 39 - Jake and Amy: Week Eight - full transcript

Previously on "In Treatment"...

I'm trying to make this work.
I want to make this work.

You don't know anything.
You don't know me at all.

- I've done terrible things.
- It was an accident --

No, really terrible things.
I had sex with Ben.

My worst nightmare, it's happened,

and I feel like this huge weight
has been lifted off my shoulders.

You said that after your father died,
your mother never forgave you.

Maybe you've never forgiven yourself, Amy.

Maybe you feel that if you
degrade yourself enough,

someday somebody will forgive you.



What do you see in me?

How could you possibly be with me?

I loved you.

"Loved"?

Hey. Hey, Max, don't dump
that stuff on the staircase.

And call Devinn and get
that reading assignment, okay?

Hey, how do you do?

Good. They're a pretty good team.

I'm glad you went.

It was fun.

Paul, could you do me a favor?
Can you close the door?

Wanna talk to you about
something for a minute.

Uh, I left Gina a message today, and...

I told her that...



I won't be going back to therapy -- anymore.

You and I, we can go
back and forth forever about...

where our problem started and...

who did what to whom, who's more to blame.

I can't do that anymore.

I need to figure...

this out...

and I think, I need to do that on my own.

Okay.

I'm really happy that you're seeing Gina.

I really hope it can help you.

S01E39: Jake and Amy, Week Eight

- Is Amy joining us today?
- I don't think so.

Okay.

So, what's been up with you, Jake?

Well, it's been a pretty weird week
since we saw you last, Paul.

Very quiet around the house. Awkward.

We barely speak to each other,
except when Lenny's around...

who, somehow, seems
really relaxed and at ease.

He's such a funny kid.
Man, I wish you could meet him.

He was telling us this joke
the other day about these...

these two cannibals,

that eat a clown.

And one cannibal turns to the other and says,

"Does this taste funny to you?"

Anyway, Amy and I are laughing
despite ourselves.

It was very surreal.

You know, kids tend to do that
when they sense tension.

They try to get the parents to come together.

Probably right, but he shouldn't
have to do it. It's not fair.

You're right. It's not fair.

Amy's been trying
to reach out to me this week...

you know, make it all okay,

the whole Ben thing, but how can you
make up for something like that, you know?

To tell you the truth, it's...
pretty sad watching her try.

When Lenny fell asleep the other night, she...

ran around the house, Paul,
pretending to be busy with house shit,

which she never does. Not saying
anything, just trying to run into me.

And at one point we were...
pretty close together in the kitchen...

and she tried to kiss me...

and I just...

What?

Just couldn't do it.

I wasn't into it. My heart wasn't there.

Yeah. It can be hard to relate to somebody...

- after something like an affair.
- Yeah, you're telling me.

Bizarre.

Late that night, she had...

fallen asleep watching TV, and I just...

I just stood there, looking at her.

How did you feel?

She sleeps with her both hands

tucked under her cheek like...
you know, in those kid books,

you know, the way they draw
the angels sleeping.

She didn't look like a woman
who had just fucked some other guy.

She looked really beautiful.

And I was thinking,
how easy it would be to just...

go lay down next to her
and put my arms around her and...

But you didn't.

No, I couldn't.

I just remembered how easily
she could chip away at me

and lure me back in.

So I jumped in my car
and I got the fuck out of there.

- In the middle of the night?
- Yeah, that's right.

- Where'd you go?
- I thought I'd go into Elliot's,

but then I remembered he had a date.
I didn't want to walk in on anything.

It's been about -- six years since the guy
got laid, so I just kept driving...

and I ended up at my parents' house.

The kicker is, they live about
four hours away in Virginia.

And it was too early
when I got there to ring the doorbell,

so I just sat out front...
in my car, and fell asleep.

How often do you see them, your parents?

Mom comes into town to see Lenny,
pretty frequently, every couple of months.

Maybe we go out there for the holidays
a couple of times a year, not much more.

And is your father close to Lenny?

Is my father close to Lenny?
That's a good question. I, I, I mean,

I think so. They spend time together,
Lenny likes him.

But it always feels finite.

You know, I can't help but get
the feeling that he leaves him hanging,

like he's just spent a few minutes

with the neighbor's grandchild
or something, and now it's time to move on.

Of course, my dad, being the narcissist
that he is, is oblivious to it.

Has Lenny said anything to you about it?

No. He seems fine with it, so,
who knows, maybe I'm just seeing things.

I was asleep... in the car
outside their house,

and all of a sudden there's this knock
on the window and its wake me up.

And it's a cop.

Who's the cop?

Mike Garnett.

Went to school with me, wanted to be
a cop since the first grade,

and now that's what he is.

It's really funny.
He fulfilled his childhood dream.

I don't think I know anyone who became

what they wanted to be when they were a kid.

When I was growing up,
in the wintertime, there was this guy,

um, he would come over with his chainsaw,
and he would swing from tree to tree,

cutting branches before
they froze and fell off...

like a fucking monkey. It was unbelievable.

And he was the only guy I knew

who my father didn't tell how to do his job.

That's who I wanted to be.

The old man, he's such a know-it-all.

The funny part is, though,
he does... know it all.

He can tell you the --
exchange rate for a Guyanese dollar,

how to cook a freshwater salmon
in a clay oven,

or the history of the silk worm.

- What, does he write encyclopedias?
- You'd think, right?

No, he's a college professor.

My mom, too. Intellectuals.
Big readers, unlike me. I don't read.

I don't think I've read a book
since I left high school.

Does that mean you don't or...
you, you won't?

- I haven't.
- Really?

I remember, once I misquoted Roland Barthes,

and you corrected me.

Where did that come from?

Oh, I grew up in a house where everyone
was reading at the dinner table.

That shit was everywhere.

Any parrot could pick it up
and spit it back verbatim.

That's what happens when your dad is an
emeritus professor of Renaissance studies

and your mother teaches classics --
Greek and Hebrew.

But I don't read.

I mean, not literally. I mean,
obviously I read, I mean,

I read music or manuals,
headlines, but I just...

I don't know.

I'm not like them.

I do kick ass at crossword puzzles, though.

- You do those?
- I'm not very good.

Sunday, uh, New York Times
crossword does me in every week.

Yeah, it's a tough one.

To do crossword puzzles, you need
to have an extensive vocabulary, no?

It's kinda hard to reconcile the idea
of somebody who doesn't read

with somebody who's really good
at crossword puzzles.

There's nothing to reconcile. I'm good at it,

and reading makes me restless and bored.

So, did you acquire your love
of crossword puzzles from your parents?

Not really.
My mom's all right at them.

My dad sucks.

So... What did you do as a kid when
everybody else was doing all this... reading?

I don't know. Play guitar,

collect baseball cards... smoke pot.

Did that get you into trouble?

- Not really. Nobody noticed.
- Nobody noticed that you got high?

No.

- So, who were you getting high with?
- Myself, mostly.

So, would you say that you had
a lonely, uh, childhood?

Nah. Why?

It was okay. I talked to myself a lot.

You know one of
my favorite things in the world is?

Talking to Lenny.

And we talk about anything, but mainly,
we talk about sports.

And he can just go off.

Aluminum bats versus wood...

Fuck, anything.
That kid has a brain like a computer.

He's not even 10, and he can list off

all Boog Powell's stats
from the 1970 World Series.

That's just amazing to me,

I never get tired of hearing
that little fucker talk.

You get like that with your kids?

Not so much anymore
because they're, uh, they're older,

but with my, uh, youngest, yeah, I still do.

- And how old is he?
- He's nine.

Just like Lenny.

Did you have that kind of relationship
with your father when you were a kid?

No, I avoided talking to my father
when I was a kid.

Just wasn't worth it.

He was the kind of guy who would wince
if you said "sure" instead of "surely".

Did you find it easier
to talk to your mom?

She wasn't as bad, but...
what was frustrating was...

she would always defer to him on everything.

You know, it's like she saw him
as this hotshot professor,

at another level from everyone.

He got tenure at 33,
and it just wouldn't occur to her

that she could have an opinion
different from his, different "than" his.

See, if you were him, you would have
just corrected me on my grammar.

If you were "he".

Hey, they didn't beat me, right?

- It could've been a lot worse.
- That's true. It doesn't, uh...

It doesn't mean it wasn't difficult.

So, when did you start to write?

I don't write, my...
brother Nathan is the writer.

He's a novelist. He was just shortlisted
for some prize last year,

some big national award.

I can't even remember the name.
I'm sure my parents remember it.

But you're a writer, too.

Or don't you consider
songwriting to be... writing?

No, sure, I do.

Some of my favorite writers
are actually songwriters...

people like Dylan, Cohen, John Lennon.

Hey, look, I agree with you, Paul.
I would put Dylan on par

with Walt Whitman, Ezra Pound,
Langston Hughes.

Just try telling that to my family.

You know, for somebody who
is not a great reader,

you seem to be pretty familiar
with great poets.

Nobody's really familiar with Pound.
They just fake it.

But I get the feeling that you like to
play down your knowledge, your intelligence.

I don't know.
It's just my folks' world, you know.

I guess some of it has rubbed off on me.

But it's just not me.

Did your parents ever express an interest
in what you might do for a living?

My dad probably wanted me to be
some kind of academic.

It's the family business, after all.

But what did he expect? I don't know.

I think he -- gave up the dream on me

pretty early after I flunked
out of high school.

So, which do you think came first,

your father's low expectations
or your low grades?

- What do you mean?
- Often with expectations,

this is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Maybe you decided earlier on

that you couldn't match up to his expectations

- and so you gave up trying.
- Could be.

My mom was always trying
to get me interested, you know.

She'd help me to study for tests on the sly.

- On the sly?
- Yeah, it pissed my dad off.

He, he thought she was
spoon-feeding me things

I should've known or figured out by myself.

And she was terrified he'd find out.

Was she... generally intimidated by him?

"You're so right, Abe.
I never looked at it that way, Abe."

Yeah. It made me want to scream.

One thing you can say about me, Paul,

I sure as hell didn't marry my mother.

You mean, you didn't marry a woman
who was intimidated by you.

So, how do your parents feel about Amy?

She's a successful businesswoman,
she's got an MBA,

they fucking love that
she went to grad school, their...

high-school dropout of a son
married a hotshot businesswoman.

It's interesting you use the same word
to describe your father,

also "hotshot".

Do you think that they're alike in other ways?

They're not. They're total opposites.

He's all rumpled corduroy,
stains on his shirt,

and she's, well...

Hell, you know what Amy is... meticulous,

put together, very materialistic.
She loves her stuff, huh?

You know, when we met,

I was crashing in this crappy
apartment over a garage.

I think, it turned her on.

And the woman had never fucked on a bed
without a box spring, and...

she liked it.

Coming down from her pedestal,
hang with the riffraff.

Did you feel like your father
was also on a pedestal?

Come on, Paul, let's get off this, alright?
This is not why I'm here.

I don't have that many people
to talk to right now.

And I'm scared shitless of losing
Lenny in some custody battle.

Amy is...

unstable.

This is the second time
she's getting a divorce

after having an affair,
and I think she's gonna fuck him up.

You said yourself, she needs losers around.

I think, she's gonna teach him to be a loser.

She's damaged, Paul.

She's fucked up.

I haven't gotten much right in my life
except that kid, and that kid is...

What the fuck?

You don't pay your electric bill or something?

Uh, looks like it's out...
in the entire street.

- You want to go on?
- I can see you fine.

You're sure?

For the first time... Paul...

it really feels like we're splitting up.

No matter how many times
we've talked about it or...

brought it up, it's never felt so...

real.

Why do you think it feels different this time?

The last time you were here, you...

you implied that --
you'd fallen out of love with Amy.

Would you still say, that's true?

I don't know. How would I know?
What does it feel like?

I've only been in love with one girl, her.

I've never fallen out of love.
Tell me what it feels like, you know,

I'll tell you if I'm feeling it.

Have you ever -- felt it?

There's a huge sadness there...

'cause you know what's been lost.

And... you begin to lose the desire to...

connect.

Maybe you should ask your father.
He's the guy who knows everything, right?

Did I tell you what he said when I showed up
and told him my marriage was over?

"Well, this isn't entirely unexpected, is it?"

He expects me to fail...

every time, at everything.

Why did you go home, Jake?

I don't know. Was an accident.
I just started driving,

that's where I ended up.

This is therapy.

We don't believe in "accidents" here.

Alright, fine, I mean...

I'm about to be a single dad. Maybe I, uh...

Maybe I just felt like
I want to talk to my mum.

Or your dad.

Have you been listening to a word I say?
I can't fucking stand my father.

It's interesting that you use
the same words to describe, uh,

Amy and your father.

"Hotshot".

But you keep insisting that
they're nothing like each other.

Well, they're not.
Where're you going with this?

Look. You married an intelligent,
overachieving woman

who seems absolutely certain of her...

authority in the world.

And -- the criticism and disappointment
that you got from your father,

don't you feel that
that's what you get from Amy?

Your relationship with Amy's falling apart,

so you get in a car,
you drive for four hours to Virginia,

and you find yourself...

by "accident"...

outside your father's house?

You think I was going back to the source?

Jesus, that's sick.

It's not sick, Jake.

The more we open ourselves to the...

the therapeutic process,
the more we can examine these --

More therapy. What are you talking about?

I need that like I need a hole in the head.

You know what?

Who cares why I went home that night?

What does it matter how my parents talk
at the fucking dinner table, alright?

I've learned from my father's mistakes,
and I'm a much better father than he is.

I don't wanna fuck it up, Paul.

I don't wanna fuck my kid up.

I need...

I need their help.

I need your help.

I need help -- all the help I can get.

Or some road map, you know?

I feel scared.

You know -- I wish I could say
it was that simple, Jake,

that I could just give you a...
a road map, a book of instructions, but...

unfortunately, life isn't like that.

But you know -- that old saying that...

a journey of a thousand miles
begins with a single step.

Or in my case...

two steps up and one step back.

You know, if this was a movie...

the lights would come on, right now.

If this were a movie.

Were a movie.