(slow piano music)
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- I knew it would be bad news.
This guy's had it in for me since day one.
I felt like he had his knee on my throat.
I wanted to run screaming from that meeting.
- Do you remember feeling that way before?
- My heart racing like that?
Never.
Well.
- My father was a psychoanalyst,
a Freudian.
In the 50s and 60s, Freud was like a god.
Therapists were the priests.
People thought psychiatrists could see into your soul.
- I found myself with feelings
that came on me very unexpectedly.
- Tell me about them.
- My father's office was in the city,
but nights and weekends
he saw patients at home in the basement.
Us kids were supposed to stay upstairs.
You wouldn't believe what went on in there.
- Doctor, I don't really know how to talk about this.
It seems very inappropriate.
- In what way inappropriate?
- Well, I'm developing feelings
and I don't think I should tell this person.
I think it would jeopardize our arrangement.
- She's got issues.
- What are issues?
- Forget it.
You're too young to understand.
- No, you're too young.
- Actually, she's kinda right.
I'm 12 in this scene, but 30 years later,
I was still trying to make sense of it.
- I'm gonna tell Dad about you spying.
- You will not.
I'll let you listen next time.
We were like a lot of families in the 1960s.
Except that in our house, the kids were responsible
not just for what we said or did,
but also for our unconscious motivations.
You can trace those back to our psychosexual development,
and fixations that Freud described at the oral stage,
the anal stage, and of course the phallic,
and genital stages.
- More.
(shovel digging and scraping)
- You know, I'm keeping my eye on her.
I don't why she can't manage to keep a hamster alive.
- She's trying, honey.
She loves them.
Sometimes she just forgets to feed them.
- Forgetting masks unconscious intent.
She forgets what she wants to forget.
- Maybe it's 'cause they're just too dumb to live.
They eat their own poop, you know.
- Oh, it's okay, sweetie.
We'll get another one, alright?
- We're gonna be late for your appointment.
Meet you in the car.
(kissing)
(car engine starts)
- One day a week, mom took me to therapy.
Reason?
Bed wetting.
(clock ticking)
- Do you ever feel angry at mommy or daddy,
like really angry?
Do you and your friends ever like to be out, set fires,
burn things, you know, for fun?
Hmm?
Um, just curious, how often would you say you, you know,
what do kids call it these days, play with yourself?
- In Freud's famous analysis
of his patient Dora, he thought her bed wetting
was a hysterical symptom brought on
by her deciding to stop masturbating.
That wasn't the case here.
(slow piano music)
To Freud, everything is erotically charged.
From babyhood to death, the key thing is sex.
- I don't even know what I'm saying.
- I'm sorry, our time's up.
We'll finish this next week.
- When the patient is sexually attracted
to the therapist, that's called transference.
When the analyst is attracted back,
that's counter-transference.
(slow piano music)
- Are you hungry?
(garage door clamoring)
- Bring it in through here.
- Yes, sir.
- That's excellent, thank you.
- You want us to put the old one somewhere?
(accordion music)
- Hi, honey.
I thought you might like a new bed.
- Why, what's wrong with this one?
- Well, I just thought you might like
a fresh start, you know?
Besides, I think your problem's
pretty much a thing of the past, don't you?
Voila.
- It's not a bed.
It's Dad's couch.
- It can be a bed.
(crickets chirping) (slow dramatic music)
(plastic sheets crunching)
I put the plastic sheet back on, just for a while.
So we haven't solved the problem just yet.
Trust me, pretty soon it's gonna be ancient history.
- Maybe I should just sleep in the bathtub.
(Mom laughs)
- Jesus.
This is so passive aggressive.
- Oh, just calm down. - He's way too old for this.
- You're not helping.
- You're part of the pathology, you're infantilizing him.
- Nothing of the sort.
- Don't hug him.
The mother must tell the son,
I won't love you if you do this.
- That would never work.
- Oh really, why not?
- Because he wouldn't believe me.
- What are you doing with these?
- Andy and I found 'em in the woods.
They make good life rafts.
- (laughs) Do you know what they really are?
They're condoms.
They're contraceptives, so when you're having intercourse,
the girl doesn't get pregnant.
Try using them for what they're meant for,
then you'll stop wetting your bed.
(slow piano music)
(loud banging)
- Hey.
What's with the couch?
- It's a bed.
- Your bed is a couch?
- What's goin' on?
- Not much.
You wanna walk?
(birds chirping)
And beside that, I don't have any real friends.
Probably never will.
I just feel like I'm unredeemable.
- I don't know that word.
- It means everything about me is wrong.
- No it isn't.
I mean, whatever's wrong with you, I like.
- Well, I like you, too.
- You wouldn't if you really knew me.
- What do you mean?
- I don't wanna talk about it.
I'm not normal.
- I'm not into normal.
(quirky midtempo music)
So, have you ever, you know?
- You mean?
Oh yeah.
- Really?
- I actually have some condoms on my boat.
(plastic sheet crunches)
- Wow.
I need to find my friend.
- No.
- Look, I gotta go.
(muffled panting and mattress pounding)
- What am I doing wrong?
- It's not you, honey.
- Nibbles was my best friend.
- Sadly, that might be true.
- Mom, what was all that noise last night?
Were you and dad fighting?
What's going on?
- We were just moving your bed, sweetheart.
- This is a better spot for it.
- No it isn't.
- That's where we sleep, so this is a better place for you.
- It's my room.
- Precisely.
Look around, phalluses everywhere.
- Your father means penises, honey.
- Castration anxiety, my friend.
Trust me, we're saving you years of therapy.
(slow piano music)
- Freud saw himself as more than just
an observer or scientist.
He thought that he alone
understood the secrets of the universe.
In the 1890s, Freud had some female patients in analysis.
They talked about being sexually abused as children,
often by their fathers.
Freud thought all sorts of anxieties and problems
could be traced back to this abuse.
This was the Seduction Theory.
Suddenly, he throws that theory away for a new one.
He now says the women were just imagining it.
He says the memories of their childhood abuse
were a fantasy, because little girls desire
their fathers sexually,
and fantasize about being punished for it.
This is the Oedipus Complex.
So it's a complete reversal
from one unproven theory to another.
It may be your life, but it's the doctor who gets to say
what's fact and what's fiction, and who's perverted.
It's crazy.
(slow piano music)
My folks split up.
My father got remarried five minutes later.
And actually, mom didn't waste any time, either.
Who knows how it all affected us kids.
Though, there were signs.
- Any last things
you'd like to say to each other?
- I got married and divorced in my 20s.
I'll admit, I was immature.
- I know it's been a tough week,
but you're not sharing.
- I tried a million kinds of therapy.
The past just wouldn't go away.
This scene is years later.
My father has cancer.
I'm not gonna get to ask him things I imagined I would.
Why he used psychiatry like a weapon on us.
How he could be so invasive, without even being available.
Why our family couldn't last.
In the myth of Oedipus, he kills a stranger on the road,
not knowing it's his father.
Freud saw in this the unconscious desire
of all sons to kill their fathers.
Sure, I wanted to kill him.
But that didn't mean I wanted him to die.
(water splashing)
- Ah, that is so wonderful.
You're so good at that.
Where'd you learn to do it?
- I don't know.
You did it for me when I was little.
- You're a beautiful liar.
- Of course, we both knew the truth.
The washcloth was my mother's thing.
But it wasn't a lie exactly, just fictional.
Some people dream of reliving their childhood.
Ugh, not me.
But if I could go back to the past, knowing what I know now,
that's different.
My father would say,
that's exactly what you can do in therapy.
But I don't mean just talking about the past.
I mean, a complete do-over.
(slow pensive piano music)
- Where have you been?
- I had some stuff to work out.
How long have you been here?
- 20 years.
- I can't believe this is happening.
- You know, this isn't gonna be like you imagined.
- It's gonna be good, right?
- But we don't stay together very long.
You'll spend years trying to figure it out.
(whooshing)
(birds chirping)
(slow music chords)
(leaves crunching and dirt skidding)
- Our time was up.
It's not like those things are meant to last forever.
But they do.
- We have to stop now.
(upbeat music)