State of the Union (2019–…): Season 2, Episode 4 - Prison Thoughts - full transcript

Here she is.
Come on, come on, come on!

Stop it, come on.

You deserve it. You are a hero.

No, I'm an idiot.
How do you even know?

Matthew was in here earlier.
He was up there and he saw you.

- Hell no.
- Tea's on the house.

- No, I need coffee.
- Oat milk?

- Cookie?
- No, thanks. Yeah.

Forgive me. I'm unaware
of your achievements.

Nothing you'd be interested in.

- Try me.
- I went to jail.

What do you wanna
talk about this week?

Very funny.

I'm guessing you broke
the law in some way.

I don't really want to hear about it.

Were you looking for attention?
Was it a cry for help?

A desperate world
requires desperate measures.

- You were arrested for protesting.
- Yes.

Okay, I'll bite. Protesting what?

The new chemical plant
up in Orchard Hills.

That hasn't even
opened yet, has it?

We're not gonna wait for it to open
and pour that shit into the reservoir.

You know there's gonna be shit
or you fear shit?

There's always shit.

I don't think either of us know how
chemical plants really operate.

So you believe in the people who
make money off the shit-pouring?

No, I don't believe in anyone.
I have no view.

But I know there'll be jobs, though.
Although, wait.

You don't need a job.
You have plenty of money.

What good are jobs
if there's no planet?

I absolutely agree with you.
No planet, no jobs.

In the meantime, people have mortgage
payments to make, and you don't.

We can't go on living like that
in the short term.

That's kind of what life is.

Well, we have a fundamental
difference of opinion.

You think if we can make it through
the rest of the week as we are,

we might as well stay married
until we die.

- Yeah.
- Thank you.

When I was in prison...

- Man !
- What?

You're going to dish out
prison wisdom now?

How long were you in for?
Like, three hours?

"When I was in prison,
I was thinking,"

that's what I was going to say.

I was in there long enough
to have a thought.

Yeah, maybe not two thoughts, but how
was it in there? I've never been.


Don't say it like that. You know
I haven't. How was the food?

I wasn't there for meal time.

That should be the title
of your prison memoir.

"I wasn't there for meal time."

"The incredible true story
of how one white suburban woman"

"survived an afternoon
in the slammer."

- Can I tell you my thought?
- Your prison thought? Sure.

I want to find a way of having a loving,
close, post-divorce relationship.


Even though we haven't decided
whether we're divorcing or not.

I guess either way it's useful.

"Either way"?
There's still two ways?

The other way being a loving
close marriage, right?

Sure, that's a goal.
Ambitious, but a goal.

I kind of thought we had that.

That's why you keep finding things out
because of the lack of closeness.

How was I supposed to know that when
you said you were going to New York,

you are actually staying in
a spiritual commune somewhere?

You couldn't have known.

We were way too far apart
for me to tell you.

- That's what I tried to tell myself.
- When?

When I was fooling around
in the New York apartment.

- If only we'd been closer.
- Bullshit.

We should never
have bought that place.

It's not the apartment's fault.
It's what went on there.

But we have been close
in the past.

Come on!

If you subtract the
New York City apartment years,

and then when all that stopped when
I didn't like or trust you very much...

I'm more likable than you think.

... and then the recent past when
I've been on my journey...

- Which I want to join.
- No, you don't.

Okay, not all of it.
I'll skip out some parts of it.

I'll be like
a cheating marathon runner,

someone who sneaks out from
behind the hedge halfway through.

I don't want to cheat.

I wouldn't be actually cheating.
There are no actual rules.

Your "journey" is not recognized
by any sporting body.

You don't think
I have my own rules?

The whole point of the journey is doing
it, not pretending you've done it.

I'll be honest about
the shortcuts I take.

There are no shortcuts.

If it's important to be
with someone who,

I don't know, has read
the complete works of Dickens,

I don't want someone who's seen
the movie "A Christmas Carol".

You know,
one of my favorite movies...

Or the black and white
"Great Expectations".


I know I don't have much
you haven't heard before.

I didn't mean it
to sound like that.

But you knew
what I was going to say.

Yes. David Lean,
1946, Alec Guinness.

- It's in your top ten.
- Not much we can do about that.

Top ten hasn't changed
for a few decades.

You know I don't like
new movies that much.

I guess that works
metaphorically, too.

The top ten of anything hasn't
changed in the last few decades.

Yeah. Who says it has to?

Nobody, of course.
But don't you get bored?

Bored of not going to prison?

- Those aren't the alternatives.
- You sure?

How do people do it?
How do they stay married?

A lot of people don't.

Do you really have to walk
lockstep with someone to survive?

It's like being with a toddler.

Just your attention
gets distracted for a moment,

and suddenly,
your marriage is miles away.

You're shouting at it.

Asking the security in the mall

to make an announcement
over the loudspeaker.

I can't even remember
what clothes it was wearing.

I think now you're talking about
a couple of our parental low spots.

Would you hate it
if we got divorced?

Of course I would.

No, I want you
to think about your answer.

This isn't a rhetorical question.
I'm not trying to trick you.

Would it kill you if we split up?

- How bad would you feel?
- Well... pretty bad.

How bad?

You want how bad on a scale
of one to ten?

If that helps.

- What?
- It's clearly not a ten.

It may be a ten. You asked me
to think about the question.

If it was a ten,
you wouldn't have to think.

You'd be, you know,
there's no 11, no 100.

If I had said ten, you'd have
told me to think harder.

Okay. So what's your answer?

- Ten.
- Bullshit.

See? Now the not thinking
is being held against me.

Try again.



It went from ten to seven?

Well, if I'd said nine,
you wouldn't believe me.

What happened to eight?

Let's say the death
of a parent is a ten.

Come on.

What? It's supposed to be
the big rite of passage.

Was it for you?

My experience wasn't typical.

Nobody's is.

The deaths of my parents
were an eight and a seven.

The time had come,
especially for my dad.

And neither of your parents
scored higher than a four

because you didn't
like them very much.

My father was a five.


I apologize.

They weren't especially lovable.

I know,
and I'm not blaming you for it.

I'm saying we shouldn't assume

that the death of a parent
is a ten for anybody else.

The question is

would it kill me
if we had to stay together?

Well, why is that
the question suddenly?

I want to compare scores.

If it would kill me to stay together,
ten on a scale of ten,

when you're only a seven.

Do you see what I'm saying?

You're saying that if you score
eight, nine or ten on this question,

a question you yourself
are asking and grading,

you get to walk out
of the marriage.

I'm going to be scrupulous.

Okay, Ellen,

how much would it kill you
to stay married?

On a scale of one to ten.

It would be a seven.

Jesus Christ,
you are maddening.

Any other number
we might have got somewhere.

So we go to extra innings

Why does everything
have to be a sport?

I'd like to ask Steve and Cindy
to take this test.

- Please don't.
- Yeah, I think I should.

Please don't.

Yeah, I think
it would be enlightening.