The Brood

You're not looking at me, Mike.

You're not looking at me in the eyes.

That's weak.

Only weak people do that.

I could look you in the eye

if I wanted to, Daddy.

I just don't wanna look you in the eye.

I guess you're just a weak person.

You must have got that from your mother.

It probably would have been better for you...

to have been born a girl.

Then we could have named you Michelle.

You see, weakness is more acceptable

in a girl, Michelle.

I'm sorry, I mean, Mike.

I keep forgetting.

Wait a minute.

Why don't I call you Michelle all the time?

Then I wouldn't have to be so goddamn

ashamed of you and your weaknesses.

I could think of you as a girl all the time...

by your frocks, dresses,

and frilly hats and scarves.

You could be Daddy's little girl.

I wouldn't have to be so f***ing ashamed

of being seen with you in public, would I?

What do you think of that, Michelle?

Sound like a good idea?

Don't, Daddy.

What?

Did you say something?

Such a soft little girl's voice.

I couldn't hear what you said.

I hate you, Daddy.

- Speak up, girl!

- I hate you!

I hate you, because I love...

It makes me feel...

guilty inside, hate.

I can't let the heart speak.

Then don't speak.

Don't speak to me. Show me.

Don't tell me.

I'm not interested in what little girls say.

Show me!

Show me your anger.

Then I can understand it.

There you are, Daddy.

I see you, Michelle.

I see everything.

This is me, Daddy.

This is what you do to me inside.

Go all the way through it.

Go all the way through it to the end.

Come out the other end.

Don't stop in the middle.

I'm watching you.

I'm watching everything you do, Mike.

Wow.

The man is a genius.

Dr. Raglan would like to thank you all

for coming this afternoon.

I believe your bus is waiting outside now.

Thank you.

Candy...

it's me, honey.

Daddy.

Okay, honey.

Warm enough?

Okay, put the whale down. Turn around.

Hold your hair up.

Oh, my God.

Sorry, Hal...

but Mr. Carveth is still here.

He's starting to get passionate

about the whole thing.

Okay, send him in.

Mr. Carveth.

Thanks a lot.

Frank, it's been some time.

What can I do for you?

I want to see Nola.

I want to see my wife, now.

You know she's still undergoing

intensive therapy.

I can't let you break that isolation.

You let her see Candice

on the weekends, don't you?

Yes, Frank, I do. But that's different.

Visits from her daughter

was in her program from the very start.

Her program has just changed.

What do you mean?

You sound hostile.

My daughter's been beaten severely...

and scratched and bitten!

Her mother did it...

her mother,

who is under your psychiatric care.

That's an incredibly heavy

accusation to make.

Did Candice tell you that?

Candice won't talk about it.

She pretends

the whole thing never happened.

But it was Nola...

or some other crazy

you have stashed away up here.

Either way, no more weekends with Mommy.

The kid stays with me.

To take Candice away from her

at this stage...

could send Nola over into the deep end.

It's a critical time for her.

I happen to think that Nola's

been in over her head for a long time now.

You have no legal right to deny access.

Any time you'd like

to test the matter in open court...

I'd be more than happy to oblige.

For the ultimate good

of your own family, Frank...

we'd be prepared to do just that.

But don't you force it.

You bring Candy back to her mother

next weekend. She won't harm her.

There must be some other answer

to what you've seen.

Until you give me that answer...

Candy is not coming back.

Yes, Hal?

Prepare Nola Carveth

for another session tonight, will you?

Sure.

And, Chris...

make it phase two, after supper.

Okay, Hal.

This guy Raglan

is strictly an emotional opportunist.

He's a legit M.D., right?

He's a real psychiatrist.

Yes.

Goddamn it, psychoplasmics is a rip-off.

It's a sideshow. I've seen it in action.

It doesn't matter what you think.

You listen to me.

You call up this Raglan,

and you be a real mensch with him.

Otherwise, it's just a matter of time

before the cops show up at your door...

and you lose your kid for good.

The law believes in motherhood.

If I can dig up enough testimony to prove...

that Raglan's a dangerous fraud,

that Somafree is crawling with crazies...

it's no place for a kid, any time...

You're getting warmer.

But when Candy doesn't show up

at Somafree next weekend...

your wife can take legal action immediately.

You could find yourself belted with a writ

in seven days.

If I give Nola enough time,

she'll really hurt the kid.

I know she will.

I'll do anything I have to.

Here's your daddy.

I bet he knows all about this zipper.

There we go.

All set, now.

I'd love to talk to you

sometime soon, Mr. Carveth...

about school activities and Candy.

You missed the last open house.

Okay, soon.

Thanks.

See you tomorrow, Candy.

Thank you very much, Frank.

- For what?

- For bringing me my grandchild.

I know if it were up to Nola,

I'd never see Candice.

Juliana, that's not true.

Nola and I both know how much

she needs her grandma, especially now.

You're sweet.

I guess you know, now, what it feels like.

- What it feels like?

- Being a parent.

Being blamed for everything.

To have the past distorted, so you

don't even recognize yourself anymore.

Your child's version of the past, that is.

Juliana, Candice is only five.

She's working on it right now, believe me.

Thirty seconds after you're born,

you have a past.

And 60 seconds after that,

you start to lie to yourself about it.

I guess I've been indulging in a horrid bout

of nostalgia these last few days.

It must be the weather.

At least now I have a partner in crime.

- I've got to go.

- Of course.

'Bye, Daddy.

Take your time, we'll both be just fine.

I'll be with you in a second, sweetie.

I'm just gonna get a refill, and then

we'll look at those lovely old pictures.

Mommy.

Yes, Candice?

Yes, sweetie?

Mommy, you hurt me.

You hit me with your fists,

and then you scratched me with your nails.

You hurt me.

I didn't, sweetie.

You must have had a bad dream.

Mommies don't do that.

Mommies don't hurt their own children.

They don't?

They never do?

They sometimes do.

Sometimes, but then they're bad mommies,

they're f***ed-up mommies.

Like whose?

Like whose mommy?

Like mine was.

F***ed up and bad.

No, I'm not, Nola.

You're being so unfair, sweetheart.

Mommies never do that.

Mommies never hurt their own children.

You did hurt me.

You beat me and you scratched me.

You threw me down the stairs.

Show me what I did.

Don't stop it now, darling, show me.

Show me your anger. Show it to me.

Go all the way through it.

Go all the way through it, till the end.

Right to the end.

That one's my favorite.

This one's your favorite?

Yes, Mommy in the hospital

when she was a little girl.

That's right. I remember this picture.

Your Grandpa Barton took this picture.

Tell me the rest of the story

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