Color of Night

I swear!

Goddamn it!

Oh, no!

So who do you think is the enemy?

-No, no, give me a specific answer. -You are the goddamn enemy, Capa.

You and this whole tower of psycho babble.

You know what I hope? That God gets real pissed off...

and He shrivels up your cock so that it points

straight down to hell, where you belong!

Okay, Michelle.

Before you become His avenging angel and swoop down to finish me off.

Now I finally get it. You are like my ex-husband.

You think that everything's gotta be either black or white

'cause you gone colour-blind.

But God's on my side now.

He knows I'm not like you.

Well, we're all pretty much the same, Michelle.

We all do it.

We all do what?

Tend to view our lives as if we're looking through a keyhole.

It's a very limited view of the truth.

So we have to fill in the blanks.

We invent things.

I don't know what you mean.

You invent enemies to test your strength against.

You invent gods to protect you from these enemies.

What a depressing view of life you have!

-That is such horse shit! -Who is the enemy?

One minute you have friends. The next moment, they've slipped away.

You leave here and I wonder, 'Who's Michelle hating this week?'

I try to remember, and I can't.

Can't bring 'em to mind. Do you know why?

No. Why don't you tell me?

Take a look in the mirror, Michelle.

Which mirror? This mirror?

Any mirror.

Tell me what you see.

I see...

your reflection over my shoulder.

I see...

there's nothin' much that I really like.

I think I prefer the view outside, actually.

Michelle!

All right, get back there.

Stay back.

Get back in your car!

Stop it.

Michelle.

Oh, my God.

It was the reddest blood I ever saw,

pooled around her green dress.

And then the red disappeared.

Christ, Ed. It was like a vibration of colour...

broadcast from hell.

And then the red started to fade away.

Poor Capa.

You here for me to pity you?

Hell, yes.

Doesn't take Sigmund Freud to figure out that I don't care

to see the colour of my patient's blood.

I'm a little surprised that this happened to you.

Sure.

You always thought I was a cold hearted son-of-a-bitch.

Not really, but there is a kind of arrogance here.

Do you really believe that you are responsible for her illness?

You were a small, recent part of her life.

Yeah, that's right. That's right.

Well, it's all too fucking glib for me, Larry.

I cannot dispose of this woman that easily.

Well, you always were a romantic.

Are you involved with anyone else?

No.

But I'm still a romantic.

I just don't have anybody to be romantic with.

They all want to fuck me or marry me.

-None of 'em want to love me. -Maybe you don't want to be loved.

You had a happy marriage once.

She loved me to death.

And then she ran off and loved somebody else to death.

Of course...

there's something else here.

To deny red is to deny emotion.

-Oh, yeah. -As you know, that can be very dangerous.

Yes, yes, I know.

Very dangerous.

I know...

that I've got something broken.

And I know that it's gonna take some time to get it fixed.

You're a pretty good therapist.

How long does it take a man like you to forgive himself?

I'll see you when I get back from Los Angeles.

Don't run away because of one treatment failure.

I'm not running away, Larry. It's just a little trip to Los Angeles.

Besides,

I can't really run away.

It's all up here, isn't it? Pow.

It's a package deal.

The head goes with me.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Los Angeles.

Please remain seated until the aircraft comes...

Just another Monday in paradise.

There's a fender bender on the 405, slowing things down...

Hey, jerk-off, what are you looking at?

See that? There's accident. Hey, what happened?

Anybody's hurt? Huh? Anybody's dead?

What are you doing? You are looking there and driving here?

Put the pedal on the metal! Ass hole!

-Is the aquarium with it? -That's a blue shark.

Okay.

Thirty-three and three is...

Was that an aftershock I felt?

Forty-four, forty-five.

-Five. -Thirty-eight. Fourteen.

-Thirty-three. -Two.

-Thirteen. -Three.

-Twenty-nine. -Casey, you're such a weenie.

Three hundred and four.

-Leave him alone, will you? -Seven.

Clark?

Eight.

Clark.

Yeah.

Did you read the paper today?

No.

I was just wondering how many fuckin' pages it had.

-Oh, Christ, I fell right into that. -Sixteen.

Four.

-Forty-seven. -I care that he's late.

-I don't get it. -I do too. Why not?

Because his father's paying for his therapy.

My dead husband's paying for mine, and I still care.

Aww, unbelievable.

I think we should get started now.

Clark?

Hey, Bob!

God.

Bill.

Hey.

How you doin'?

-I'm good. -You look great.

Good, yeah.

I'm sorry I'm late. I got stuck in traffic on the free way.

We're just about to get started.

-I'll wait out here for you. -Why don't you join us?

You know, this is the last thing I need right now...

I'm serious. I could use a second opinion.

-Come on. -No, look, Bob...

This is my friend

and colleague, Bill Capa, from New York.

Why don't you sit over there, Bill?

I thought it might be interesting for you,

and for him, if he sat in on one of our sessions.

What kind of a shrink are you?

I'm a behaviourist.

Qualifications?

Same as Bob.

We went to college together.

Then we fought the battle of Penn State Mental Hospital as interns.

No one's going to be offended if you want to say no.

No, Bob.

Nobod...

-Nobody wants to say no. -Oh, Jesus.

I'm Sondra.

-How are you, Bill? -Fine, thank you, Sondra.

Medical degree?

No.

I'm a psychologist... and a psychoanalyst, not a psychiatrist.

The Ph.D. is from NYU.

Okay, thank you. That's fine.

So it's Bill and Bob. Therapy a deux.

Really.

Why don't we begin by introducing ourselves

and then saying as much or as little

about why we're here...

as we're comfortable with.

-Name's Buck. -Oh, that's helpful. Very macho of you.

That's an anti-gender remark.

Sondra?

Sondra, why don't you start us off?

Okay.

My name is Sondra Dorio.

And, uh...

I always marry older men, but...

I'm single now...

and I keep, uh... Well, I...

I want sex all the time.

But I mean, I really do...

want a real relationship.

And, um, sometimes...

I-I steal things.

I mean, they're little things.

Doesn't make any sense.

It's hard to... You know, I...

Is that okay?

-Thank you. -Thanks.

Richie?

-Richie! -This will be an event.

Richie!

What?

Would you like to tell Bill a little something about yourself?