August: Osage County
1
"Life is very long."
T.S. Eliot.
Not the first person to say it,
certainly not the first person
to think it,
but he's given credit for it
because he bothered to write it down.
Now, if you say it, you have
to say his name after it.
"Life is very long."
T.S. Eliot.
Absolutely goddamn right.
Violet...
...my wife.
She takes pills.
Sometimes a great many.
Facts are,
my wife takes pills and I drink,
that's the bargain we've struck.
A little paragraph
in our marriage contract.
So rather than once more
vow abstinence with
my fingers crossed,
I have chosen to turn my life
over to a higher power
and join the ranks
of the hiring class.
It's not a decision with which
I'm entirely comfortable.
I mean, I know how to launder
my dirty undies.
Done it all my life.
But I'm finding
that it's getting in the way
of my drinking.
Bev!
Yes?
Did...
...you...
Oh, goddamn it!
Are the police here?
Could you come here?
Whoa.
Oh, hello.
This is Johnna, the young
woman I told you about.
You tell me she's a woman.
Woman. Woman.
Whoa, man.
That I'm hiring.
Oh, you hire women's
now the thing.
I thought you meant
the other woman.
To cook and clean,
carry you to the clinic.
Hello.
- Hello.
- I'm sorry.
- Like this.
- Yes, ma'am.
You're very pretty.
Thank you.
Are you an Injun?
Yes, ma'am.
What kind?
Cheyenne.
Hmm.
You think I'm pretty?
Like this?
Like...
Careful, careful, care...
I'm sorry. I took some...
...medicine for my mu...
...for my mu...
...my muscular...
...for my muscular...
Why don't you go back to bed,
sweetheart?
Why don't you go f***
a f***ing sow's ass?!
All right.
I'm sorry.
I'll be... sickly sweet.
Sickly sweet.
I'm so... sweet.
I'm so... in love.
Sweet.
We keep unusual hours here.
My wife's been diagnosed
with a touch of cancer,
and she'll need
to be driven down to Tulsa
for her final
chemotherapy treatments.
What kind of cancer?
Oh, my God, I nearly
neglected the punch line.
Mouth cancer.
Do you have any questions?
Um, what pills does she take?
Oh, Valium, Vicodin.
Uh, Darvon, Darvocet,
Percodan, Percocet,
uh, Xanax for fun.
OxyContin in a pinch.
And, of course, Dilaudid.
I can't forget Dilaudid.
My last refuge, my books.
Simple pleasures.
Like finding wild onions
by the side of the road,
or requited love.
Oh, here. Here.
T.S. Eliot.
Read it or not.
It's not a job requirement,
just for your own enjoyment.
"Here we go round the prickly pear.
Prickly pear, prickly pear.
Here we go round the prickly pear."
Mom?
Mom!
Mom?
Mom?
Mom?
You didn't hear the phone?
If it's your father,
tell him to f*** off.
It's Aunt Ivy, from Oklahoma.
...and all of Denver County.
Here's JD & the Straight Shot.
Ivy.
What's wrong?
When?
Right here on your KZLY.
It's another hot day
on the plains in Osage County.
Highs in the 90's
all over Oklahoma.
And here's a good one from...
- What'd you tell Barb?
- I told her Dad was missing.
- What'd she say?
- She's on her way.
Goddamn your father
for putting me through this.
Did you see that office of his?
And then he hired this Injun
for some goddamn reason.
Now I have a stranger
living in my house.
What is her name?
- Johnna.
- Hmm.
I can't handle this all by myself.
I called Karen.
Oh.
Yeah. What'd she say?
She said she'd try to get here.
Oh, she'd be a big, fat help.
Just like you.
Well... I need Barb.
What's Barb gonna be
able to do about it?
What'd you do to your hair?
I had it straightened.
Why would anybody do that?
Just wanted a change.
You're a pretty girl.
Why don't you wear makeup?
Do I need makeup?
Every woman needs makeup.
Don't let anybody
tell you different.
The only woman pretty enough to go
without makeup was Elizabeth Taylor,
and she wore a ton.
Shoulders are all slumped and your
hair's straightened, don't wear makeup.
You look like a lesbian.
- Mom.
- You could get a decent man
if you would just spruce up a bit.
That's all I'm saying.
I'm not looking for a man.
- How many was that?
- Wasn't counting.
Is your mouth burning?
Like a son of a b*tch.
My tongue is on fire.
You supposed to be smoking?
Is anybody "supposed" to smoke?
Are you scared?
Of course I'm scared.
You are a comfort to me,
sweetheart.
Thank God one of my girls
stayed close to home.
In my day...
...families stayed together.
Aunt Mattie Fae's here.
She means to come in here
and tell me what's what.
I don't know how Uncle Charlie
puts up with it.
He smokes a lot of grass.
He does?
He smokes a lot of grass.
I told Vi, "You take all those
goddamn books he's so fond of
and make a big pile in the front yard
and have yourself a bonfire."
Well, you don't burn a man's books.
You do if the situation calls for it.
The man's books didn't do anything.
You get any ideas about just up
and taking off, Charlie Aiken,
- you better believe I will have your...
- I'm not going anywhere.
I'm saying if you did.
I will give you two days
to get your head straight,
then it's all going up
in a blaze of glory.
Not that you got any books lying around.
I don't think I've ever seen you
read a book in my life.
That bother you?
What's the last book you read?
Well, Beverly was a teacher,
and teachers read books.
- I'm in the upholstery business.
- Oh, sweetheart.
Your daddy's done this before.
Just takes off, no call, nothing.
I told your mother, "You pack
that son of a b*tch's bags
and have them waiting for him
on the front porch."
Where is your mother?
Upstairs.
He'll come back again.
I know he will.
Always does.
Beverly's a very complicated man.
Yeah, like Little Charles.
Little Charles isn't complicated.
He's just unemployed.
You don't think Little Charles
and Beverly share some kind of...
...uh, complication?
You have to be smart
to be complicated.
Are you saying our boy ain't smart?
Yes, that's what I'm saying.
Whew, I'm sweating.
Why is it so dark in here?
Are you sweating?
Hell, yes, I'm sweating.
Man, it's 90 degrees in here.
Whew.
Feel my back.
Oh, I don't want to feel your back.
Sweat is just dripping down my back.
- I believe you.
- Feel it.
- No.
- Come on,
- put your hand here.
- Goddamn it.
Sweat's just dripping.
Oh!
Ivy, when did this start?
This business of taping the shades?
Been a couple of years now.
Do you know its purpose?
You can't tell if it's night or day.
I think that's the purpose.
What were these people thinking,
the jokers who settled this place?
Who was the a**hole that looked
at all that flat, hot nothing
and then planted his flag?
I mean, we f***ed
the Indians for this?
Well, genocide always seems like
such a good idea at the time.
Right, just
need a little hindsight.
I mean, if you want me to explain the
creepy character of the Midwest...
Please. Midwest?
This is the Plains.
A state of mind,
a spiritual affliction, like the blues.
Don't.
Violet's a Clapton fan?
What are you doing?
Excuse me, dear,
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