(quiet chatter)
(sighs)
I'm heading to Chapman Hills.
Kyle has me reinspecting a place I was at a week and a half ago.
That's not right.
(sniffs)
Hey.
Hey, Sam.
You sent Jeanette back to a place
in Chapman Hills that she was just at.
Yeah.
And...
you sent me back to Taverna Petraki.
Things get reinspected, Sam.
But they have to wait their turn.
Current wait time in Lincoln County
for reinspection is almost eight months.
(sighs) Sam...
when you have my job, you can do my job,
but for now, why don't you worry about doing your own job?
Which you're good at,
except for how you talk to your boss.
♪ ♪
(footsteps overhead)
My note...
...is buried somewhere.
Or sunk in a river.
I'm not getting out of here.
I'm never going home.
What about the steak?
What?
Why do you keep thinking about the steak?
The steak? I'm not
thinking a... Wh...
Well, it's not because I'm hungry.
One thing you can't complain about
in this place is the food.
Fine. You want to talk about the steak?
It irritates me.
My daughter-in-law couldn't take a simple compliment--
or Ezra couldn't--
without turning it into an attack on her.
He had to make it into this huge thing.
What exactly was your compliment?
(sighs) I told her she made
the best kosher steak I'd ever had.
I complimented her cooking.
By saying she made the best kosher steak.
Is there some difference in kosher steaks?
Yes. Yes, I get it.
It could read as a backhanded compliment.
Anything could be read as a backhanded compliment.
It was a good steak, and I said so.
It was a good "kosher" steak.
Okay. Okay, fine.
Yeah, I-- You know, I'm in an environment
where I should realize that everybody
is sensitive and defensive,
and if I'm a little more alert, I just say "steak."
I should've just said "steak."
(sighs) God.
What, does that make me a bad father?
Is that, is that what...
(scraping resumes)
(quiet chatter)
(men chanting shaharith)
CHARLIE: He complained about a...
a contribution you made.
-What was that about? -ALAN: Mm.
His fucking yeshiva,
in Israel.
(sighs)
After college, Shoshana's in medical school,
and he has to go to this goddamn Orthodox yeshiva
in Jerusalem. Fine.
His second year, Beth has a conference there,
so we figure I'll come along, and we'll visit Ezra.
We get there, before we see him at the yeshiva,
he sends, uh, a set of instructions
to her on how she is supposed to dress,
like Beth doesn't know how to dress around Orthodox Jews.
So, she covers her hair, every inch of her flesh.
He takes us to meet the rebbe. Forget your stereotypes.
Young, hulking guy.
Could've played football.
He tells us that Ezra
is a real ben torah.
And Ezra's just beaming,
like this is the best compliment he's ever gotten.
And the contribution?
Ah.
I was supposed to make a contribution,
right there in the office.
This was made clear to me.
So, I write a check for $1,000.
But then...
we're in the driveway,
his mother is literally dying in the house,
and he says I don't respect him.
I don't respect his choices.
That I gave Shoshana, whatever,
$40,000 a year for medical school,
and I gave his yeshiva a paltry $1,000.
Is yeshiva free?
He never asked me to pay for it.
He got a job and a partial scholarship.
-He asked you for a donation. -And I made one.
Do you know what it felt like
to walk through that yeshiva with Beth?
Imagine if your son
became a Scientologist,
and you had to walk through the...
Scientology center with him,
and at the end, you gave a donation
because you wanted to make a gesture,
and he took it as an insult?
Alan,
if you could talk to Ezra right now,
what would you say to him?
"Ezra, you broke up our family.
"You thought you had all the answers.
"You were so righteous.
"You humiliated your mother.
"You devastated her.
"I want to s...
"I want to say you killed her,
"but I know that's not true.
"All your mother wanted, all she asked
"was to be able to hold the hands of both her children
"in her dying moment, and even this, you could not do.
"Your way of looking at the world
"had to be the only way.
Everyone else is wrong."
You always thought Ezra was obstinate,
from the time he was a little boy.
I remember you talking about it.
He was, always.
You said, "Like his mother."
("Mama, You've Been on My Mind" by George Harrison playing)
♪ Perhaps it's the color ♪
♪ Of the sun cut flat ♪
♪ And covering ♪
♪ The crossroads I'm standing at ♪
♪ Or maybe it's the weather ♪
♪ Or something like that ♪
♪ Mama, you're just on my mind ♪
♪ Someone who has had you on his mind ♪
♪ Maybe it's the weather ♪
♪ Or something like that ♪
♪ Mama, you're just on my mind. ♪
(engine starts)
♪ ♪
(winces)
-(indistinct chatter) -Here we go.
BOTH: Thank you, Grandma.
-(laughter) -(overlapping chatter)
-TED: And cherries. -SHOSHANA: Cherries?
Bring that close for Alan.
TED: Here, buddy. Look at that.
SHOSHANA: Cherries...
I always knew he was more Beth's kid.
Musical,
into all that religious crap,
even when he was little.
At synagogue, with Beth,
the both of them
so sure of themselves,
about everything.
Shoshana was mine.
Reasonable, became a therapist.
Able to consider everyone else's point of view.
But, apparently,
that story was bullshit. Is that what you're saying?
I'm not saying anything.
You think maybe I'm the obstinate one?
I'm the asshole who always thought he knew everything.
Fuck you, Charlie.
This could be it, Alan.
Take a flyer.
Fine. I had all the answers.
I wrote the books.
Rigid, know-it-all Ezra
is as much my kid as Beth's.
More.
I did look down on him,
on his religious choices.
I have been blaming him.
Blame and...?
Contempt.
Yes, contempt.
He must've felt it,
all of it.
What do you want to say to him?
I want to say...
"Why didn't you..."
"Why couldn't y..."
Okay.
"I'm sorry, Ezra. I'm sorry."
For...?
"For not being...
the father that I..."
Charlie...
I have been more understanding,
more compassionate to a fucking serial killer
than I was to my own son.
He has to hear this.
From me.
Too bad you're going to die here.
Broke. I need to borrow yours.
Come in.
(sniffs)
You look exhausted.
More than usual.
(chuckles)
I've got one more stack to put up.
Go home.
I'll do it.
♪ ♪
Ezra, any news?
-No. -(sighs)
Hashem yirachem.
(indistinct chatter)
♪ ♪
-Hi. -EZRA: Hey.
I didn't know when you were coming back. Sit.
I have a treat.
(bag rustling)
♪ ♪
(sighs)
♪ ♪
Kyle.
-Sam. Hey. -(chuckles)
What are you doing here?
JoJo's.
Right. I-I never ate there.
Is that-- Is it any good?
Yeah. Yeah, it's good.
Okay.
Hey, you know the, uh, Orchard Diner?
They're in some kind of dispute with Harris Carting.
I-- They-- Their dumpster is just...
You got to see this.
Were you...
You're not working, are you? You weren't assigned...
No. No, no. I just, I just had dinner there.
I just...
Come on, man, you got to, you got to see this.
Okay.
It's just over there.
How you doing?
-Ah, I'm a little hungry. -Yeah?
♪ Bonedigger, Bonedigger ♪
♪ Dogs in the moonlight ♪
♪ Far away in my well-lit door ♪
♪ Mr. Beerbelly, Beerbelly... ♪
(song continues over radio)
♪ A man walks down the street, he says ♪
♪ "Why am I short of attention?" ♪
♪ Got a short little span of attention ♪
-♪ And, whoa. ♪ -(sighs)
-Here? -Yeah.
Oh.
-This? -Yeah.
This doesn't look so bad.
Yeah, I guess they must've just... (sniffs)
cleaned it up, like, a second ago,
or something.
-Okay. -(scoffs)
Well, all right.
You...
you shouldn't let restaurants cut the reinspection line.
What... (sighs) What is wrong with you?
(stammers)
-Are you taking bribes? -What?
Sam, you are completely out of line.
Don't-don't talk to me like I'm an idiot.
If you think I'm taking bribes, then you are a fucking idiot.
(grunting)
-(straining) -Shut up.
-Shut up, shut up. Shut up. -(muffled shouting)
(choking)
I didn't like it when you read that letter out loud.
(breathing heavily)
(clock ticking)
(panting)
♪ ♪
(reciting Kaddish)
(stammers)
Kaddish?
(door creaking)
(clock ticking)
(sighs)
♪ Almost heaven ♪
♪ West Virginia ♪
♪ Blue Ridge Mountain ♪
♪ Shenandoah ♪
♪ River ♪
♪ Life is old there ♪
♪ Older than the trees ♪
♪ Younger than the mountains ♪
♪ Growing like a breeze ♪
♪ Country roads ♪
♪ Take me home ♪
♪ To the place ♪
♪ I belong ♪
♪ West Virginia ♪
♪ Mountain mama ♪
♪ Take me home ♪
♪ Country roads. ♪
♪ ♪
MR. BUCHELLA (over phone): Hello?
SAM: Hey, Mr. Buchella. It's Sam.
Oh. Hi, Sam.
How are you?
I'm bad.
Oh. I'm sorry to hear that.
I was thinking about your question,
and I'd be glad to do it, to be your therapist.
Okay. Wh-When can we start?
How about next, uh, Tuesday?
Is 4:30 okay?
Sure.
We can meet at my house.
The sessions will be 45 minutes,
and the charge is $125 per session.
That's a good deal.
MR. BUCHELLA: Well, great, great. Well, see you then.
(door unlocks)
I wasn't mekayem kibud av va'em.
-That's not true. -Well...
When Mom died,
he was... (sighs)
he was so harsh,
and I...
Chava, I...
I was just mad at him.
That's all.
And now...
(gate creaks)
(snoring)
♪ ♪
Dr. Strauss.
Do you play ping-pong?
Yes.
Do you want to play ping-pong?
Okay.
(chain rattling)
(sighs)
Fuck.
(ball bounces)
One-zero.
(chain rattles)
-(chain rattles) -(grunts)
-Are you good? -Yes.
Three-five.
Fuck.
11-seven.
Fuck!
11-all.
19-17.
Fuck.
ALAN: 20-17.
(panting)
There's something I should tell you.
I did it again.
The supervisor that I told you about.
The one who sent me back to the restaurant.
Kyle.
Sam, that's...
that's very soon after the last time. Is that usual?
It's getting worse.
I want to change.
You know I do, Dr. Strauss.
Is it possible?
It is possible.
Not just for you, but for the people
that you're angry at, for being such assholes.
Five, ten years from now, they could be different people.
It takes that long to change?
It... it can be faster with therapy,
but it takes time.
(equipment clattering)
This isn't working.
What isn't working?
Therapy.
With you.
These have been...
the worst three days of my life.
Two people...
in three days. I've never... felt this.
I like you, Dr. Strauss,
but this is not working.
I like you too, Sam.
I think, I think maybe it was a mistake
to bring you here.
I just-- I assumed it would work,
so I didn't think about...
I've never hurt anyone that I liked before.
Guess you can't help me with that.
I-I don't, I don't want to, I really-- I do not want to.
It's not the kind of person that I am,
in terms of what I want to do,
but if I have to,
if there's just no other way,
and I have to...
do it...
to you...
...how would you want me to...
Have you ever heard the one
about the Frenchman, the Englishman, and the Jew
who were sentenced to death?
Oh, oh, no... no.
Three men
are sentenced to death, and they are
told that they can choose
their form of execution.
The Frenchman says,
"I choose the guillotine."
So, they build a guillotine,
and they chop off his head.
The Englishman says,
"I choose the firing squad."
So, they get together a firing squad,
and they shoot him.
Now, the Jew is left...
I went to see the psychologist from my high school.
He said that he would be my therapist,
starting next week.
...and the Jew says,
"Old age."
(scraping)