Z: The Beginning of Everything (2015) s01e08 Episode Script

1 Scott, it's adorable.
Look at us.
Our own little corner house, just like real marrieds.
Max really came through.
All right.
Oh.
No, no.
Just like real marrieds.
Oh.
They forgot the furniture.
Or we did.
This is not the Biltmore.
Smell that sea air.
Our very own kitchen.
It's a clean slate.
Now there's a metaphor.
It's exactly what we need.
Yes.
Who needs possessions? We're free of everything.
I feel lighter already.
Oh, Scott, look.
There's your water, darling.
Oh, Scott.
How beautiful.
So much for a little thing.
Whoo! It's so quiet.
Hmm.
Thank God for our lucky hammock, heroically saving us from the cold, hard ground.
Do any two people work better together than we do? Hmm.
Nobody's got a right to live but us.
That's a delightfully morbid thought.
I don't think it's morbid at all.
I think it's as bright as they come.
Full of hope and potential, like a new book.
Starting tomorrow, you'll fill this house with your words, and I will be the perfect wife and make this house a beautiful home.
Hello, boys.
Come on in.
Isn't this the best place to start? Upstairs, room to your right.
Yes, ma'am.
Maybe I'll learn.
Wonderful.
Off to battle.
Wish me well.
Oh, damn.
Where are my shirts? This business of laundry: you wash a thing, then you have to wash it again and again and again and again.
I ask you, what is the point? Let's not wear any clothes.
We're at the beach.
Who needs them? We certainly don't.
We're clean.
Not polished pan clean like Townsend.
We're different.
We're blowy clean, like rivers and streams.
Blowy clean.
What? I won't wear any, then.
- Hello? - Tilde.
Zelda, what is it? What's wrong? There's nothing wrong.
Why does something have to be wrong? You're phoning me, aren't you? The telephone is for communication of importance or urgency.
Well, I urgently need some company.
Scott's been writing night and day.
Luddy has forsaken me.
Please say you'll come visit.
Do you hear what I'm contending with? Hmm.
Well, don't bring the children, then.
Zelda, my hands are more than full, and yours should be, too.
You're married.
It's time you and Scott had a baby.
It's the natural order of things.
Might be for everyone else.
Zelda, I'm at a loss, sister.
Now call your neighbors in.
Uh, Zelda, I I have to hang up the phone.
I'm sorry.
Henry, get over here.
I told you not to get wet.
Out of the water.
No dessert for you.
Come on.
We're going home.
Henry.
Let's go.
- Scott - I was in the middle of the thought.
I'm sorry.
I j Could you perhaps knock? Come in.
Goofo, I'm losing my mind.
The house, the work of it.
I hate cooking.
Is this really what we wanted? Let's go into the city.
Haven't we just left? That was ages ago.
- It was a week.
- Maybe for you in here, but not for me.
Without the sun to remind me, I'd hardly know where one dull day ends and the next begins.
I I have to finish I know you're working on your novel, but can't we have a little fun? Surely you've earned a break by now.
We'll go, and we'll come right straight back.
You can't tell me you don't want to see this body in feathers and pearls.
You're right.
I can't.
But I can't stop now, not when I'm in the middle of it.
You understand, don't you, darling? Zelda, what the devil is that sme Oh, shit.
Aah! Hot! Did you not see this? It's just a little grease.
It'll burn itself out.
It always does.
What is the matter with you? It's out now.
Do you have to make such a fuss? Yes! You do realize that we don't own this house.
Look at this place.
It's a mess.
And I'm working myself to the bone.
On what? What are you writing? You never show me anything anymore.
Because I don't have anything to show.
I'm writing.
I sit there, and I'm writing.
So please, can you just try and not send everything up in flames.
Excuse me.
Hello, Mrs.
Fitzgerald.
I am Tanaka Fujimori from the Japanese Reliable Employment Agency.
Tana Tanaka.
You can call me Tana.
Easier.
More American.
Oh.
Mr.
Scott hired me.
He says you need help.
Well, who doesn't? It's okay, Mrs.
Fitzgerald.
Tana's here now.
Do you need something, Mrs.
Fitzgerald? No.
I'm fine.
Good evening, Mrs.
Fitzgerald.
Oh.
Hello, Tana.
Mr.
Scott says you only like plain food.
Plain chicken, plain rice.
Would you tell Mr.
Scott Would you tell Scott we're ready for dinner? No.
Mr.
Scott is eating dinner in his study tonight.
Oh.
I'll take his try in, then.
Mrs.
Fitzgerald, please, sit.
Eat.
No.
I'll take him his tray.
Mr.
Scott asked me.
He's working.
This is Kamo Rosu roast duck.
Mm.
I'd say well done, Tana, but the meat's too damn tender.
Does he have to be so perfect? Mm? Tana.
He never stops moving, except for that damn flute.
Uh, Tana's a wonder.
We should have hired him the minute we got here.
You said it yourself.
You don't want to cook and clean.
No.
I don't.
But what am I supposed to do? Whatever you like.
You're the lady of the house.
Lady of leisure.
My apologies, Maryann.
I've been remiss in inviting our neighbors to call.
I'm a little at the mercy of my husband's writing schedule.
You must be quite proud of his success.
Oh.
Thank you, Tana.
That'll be all.
Yes.
I'm very proud.
Scott's talents have been nothing but a blessing to me.
Perhaps next time our husbands can join us.
I don't have a husband.
Never have.
I've never been married.
I'm sorry.
I I just assumed.
Everybody does.
I'm a rare breed.
Never found a man who could tolerate how often my hands are covered in clay.
Speaking of For your new home.
Oh.
Thank you, Maryann.
That's wonderful.
You're an artist.
I wouldn't say that.
It's just what I do.
This is all you have? - Zelda.
- This whole time when you've been locked away in here? Where's my Where's your novel? There's not even an end to a beginning here.
I I didn't say that you could come in here.
Well, maybe if I'd been delivering a duck dinner.
I told you that I needed to be alone, and yet here you are judging my my pace, my process.
You just don't stumble into beauty, Zelda.
It takes Herculean focus and effort.
And gin.
There are more empty bottles in here - than you have pages.
- You know what what I do is very different from the automatic writing that you do in your diary.
How dare you.
These are not random.
These are my thoughts and dreams.
You told me you thought my writing was beautiful.
I'm sorry I interrupted your process.
Well, for your information, I have written three stories already, but I have to do both.
Max wants the new novel by September, and he's not going to give me another advance.
So without the stories, how do we afford this house? How do we afford anything? You think that that just appeared on your wrist by magic? I don't want this, you horse's ass.
I want you! What, do you not need me anymore? Of course I do.
Okay.
Okay, how about this? We have a few friends over for the weekend.
We tear things up a little.
I can write in between.
We'll bring the city to Westport.
How's that sound? You're right.
It's people that we need, both of us.
Higher, Bunny.
I thought you preferred lower.
Faster, sister.
- Careful now.
- Jump, BG, jump.
Oh.
- Try again.
- Okay.
All right.
You inspire me, my dear.
Cuddle up a little closer, lovey mine Cuddle up and be my little clinging vine Love to be your cheeks so rosy Love to make you comfy-cozy 'cause I love you head to toesie Lovey mine Bravo, Tom, bravo.
Oh, come on, Zelda.
You never stop at one.
I haven't stopped so far.
There, darling.
You're cured.
Cured? Was I sick? - No, no, no.
I didn't mean - Scott.
- Zelda.
- Hi, Max.
Max.
Ha ha.
Out from behind your mahogany desk.
There's a first.
Well, you did invite me.
Yes, I did.
Ah, Greeks bearing gifts, eh? No, no.
Nothing clandestine.
I'm just here as a guest.
- Hmm.
- Of course, if you do have some pages, I'd love to take a look at them.
Ha ha.
Of course.
Yes, follow me.
I'll take you to the inner sanctum.
All right.
Well, as you can see, nose to the grindstone.
Awfully small grindstone.
Oh, it's quality, not quantity.
Oh, it's too unrefined for the naked eye, even one as well practiced as yours.
Please, sit.
I'm on to something quite spectacular, though.
I don't mean to denigrate my previous work, but this novel will put Paradise to shame.
Well, you do set the bar high.
And I've been drawing tremendous inspiration from Zelda.
Is that so? Yes.
By all means, take a look.
Zelda, you throw one hell of a party.
One aims to please.
It's your true calling, my dear.
That's not yours.
Look at that.
See? - Shall we? - Take a look.
We shall.
Oh, well, ladies, may we join you? Get in line, boys.
Sister.
Age before beauty.
Keep telling yourself that.
Scott.
Vincent.
You look like you've got a bit of sun.
And then some.
I'm impressed you got so many of us out this far.
- Ah.
- It's quite the quota.
Actors, authors.
- Poets.
- Hmm.
So tell me, Scott, what exactly does your wife do? - Zelda? - Mm.
Well, uh, she loves me.
She's Zelda.
She doesn't have to do anything.
Hmm.
Ah, Zelda, there you are.
Whoo.
My God, is it only Saturday? - Scott - Fitzgeralds, I really must be going.
Zelda, my dear, you have quite a presence on the page.
I spent hours with your book.
My book? I hope you don't mind.
An author and his editor have no secrets.
Of course not.
Quite engaging prose.
Yes.
Now you can see how she inspires.
Yes.
Yes.
Your Zelda has a voice.
Really? Hell, I could see publishing it in its own right.
Diary Of a Popular Girl.
That has a ring to it, eh, Zelda? Yes, it does.
Don't you think? No.
No.
Uh I mean, it's wonderful, but but, darling, this this truly is my inspiration.
It's also my life.
Which I have used already and to great effect.
Yes, I know you have.
Some of it Certainly not worth squabbling over.
Two wordsmiths under one roof.
- What could be better? - My point is we both stand to benefit far more financially is I were to use that diary than if you were to publish it under your own name.
This is how it's always been with us, Zelda, and you've always lived that.
This is the way that we work.
Our sum total is greater than our parts.
What part am I, and what part are you? Ohh.
- Zelda.
- Hello, baby.