She's Gotta Have It (2017) s01e07 Episode Script

1 [HIP-HOP MUSIC PLAYING.]
One, two, one, two, three Where Brooklyn at? Where Brooklyn at? Where Brooklyn at? Where Brooklyn at? [SOFT PIANO MUSIC PLAYS.]
Take me to a place Take me to a place Sometimes, being this good-looking can be a burden.
Oh, yeah.
But I'm used to it.
Nola and I met a year ago.
I saw her eyeing me.
And she wasn't even interested.
And that was a big turn-on.
And I've been turnin' her out ever since.
As Nola likes to say, we are "fuck buddies," and with that comes "fuck buddy" codes.
She has her rules.
We don't really hang out.
We can't say we're exclusive.
But that's about to change.
Last night, at the gallery, I saw a different side of Nola Darling.
Now, I see more than just her body.
I see the woman inside.
I saw a Nola in her world, a woman in her element, self-possessed.
She is special.
Hey, it's one thing fuckin' her in her lovin' bed.
But it's another bein' in the real world together.
I know she's got those dudes she hangs with.
Their punk-asses were probably orbiting around her show last night.
But I didn't see any competition.
Except for maybe that woman, Opal.
Okay, you got me.
I'm not used to workin' this hard.
But I'm up for the challenge.
People, I came out of my dear mother's womb ready.
Why wouldn't she wanna be with me? I am a great fuckin' catch.
That's it.
Today, I'm breakin' those rules.
[SOFT R&B SONG PLAYS.]
[SIGHS.]
Okay.
[CROWD CHEERING.]
Ahh! Damn.
I am bursting with excitement.
I want to howl like a wolf! [HOWLS, CHUCKLES.]
An outstanding group show curated by the talented Clorinda Bradford opened last night at the New Medina Gallery in Dumbo.
First, of course, we have the Haitian sensation, Baptiste [FASTER.]
whose meaty-textured black on black - eliminates the need for shade, line - Blah, blah, blah.
- by bathing the eye in the infinity - Skip.
- Zora Kneel Hurtin' subverts pop art - Enough already! [FAST.]
re-purposing Madam C.
J.
Walker's hot comb, and thus, sets fire to the items that have shackled the souls Lemuel Richards excretes blackness in every stroke of his pen.
You don't get it? - He doesn't give a fuck! - Ahh! The viewer must rise to meet him in blackness.
the problem of the show and its weakest link, Nola Darling.
[GASPS.]
[REWINDING.]
And that brings me to the problem of the show and its weakest link, Nola Darling.
You heard right the first time.
You, Nola Darling, are the weakest link.
Ms.
Darling's work is almost out of place and overshadowed by the fierce trifecta of African-American artists.
- Ahh! - Her selection of work is pedestrian when compared to the electrifying political perspectives of her peers.
- Fast forward.
[GASPS.]
- Stop fast-forwarding.
Now, I had the opportunity to talk with Ms.
Darling about her selection of works, which she has presumptively entitled, The Free Female Black Form.
And she was decidedly unable to articulate its meaning - in any cohesive manner.
- Fuck! And is there any surprise in that? How can one encapsulate the free female black form? To her credit, Ms.
Darling has ample facility.
It's certainly not a question of talent or skill, not by any means.
Oh, thanks.
Perhaps, her artistic eyes were just bigger than her stomach.
Let's be frank.
Not quite working with the same intensity as her diastopian peers and with no unifying principles, Ms.
Darling's selection of work is disparate, disjointed, diluted, and dysfunctional.
I don't want to know who Ms.
Darling is inspired by.
I want to know who she is.
Fuck you, Julius Kemper! [SOFT JAZZ MUSIC PLAYING.]
Shit! - [PHONE BEEPS.]
- [GREER.]
Bonjour, Mademoiselle Nola.
C'est moi, Greer.
Chérie, félicitations.
- Call me back.
- [PHONE BEEPS.]
[SEPTIMA.]
Ladybug, this is Mommy and Daddy calling.
We are so proud of you.
Your father's making your favorite greasy breakfast, some salmon croquettes, some grits and potatoes.
- Mm! Stop by.
- [PHONE BEEPS.]
[JAMIE.]
Nola, I hope my presence was a pleasant surprise.
I promise, it won't be the last.
- Hit me back.
- [PHONE BEEPS.]
- [GREER.]
Nola, chérie, call me back.
- [PHONE BEEPS.]
[OPAL, SKYLAR.]
Money is coming! Money is coming! Money is coming! - [PHONE BEEPS.]
- [MARS.]
Yo, yo, yo! Nola, what up? I ain't mad at you for not invitin' me.
Hope you ain't mad at the kid for standin' up for his femme fatale, a'ight? On the sincerious tip, how about a make-up call? - Love from the planet Mars.
- [PHONE BEEPS.]
[KNOCKING ON DOOR.]
Come in.
How are you? - Fine.
You? - Fine.
Must be important for you to walk all the way down here, to my dungeon.
In fact, it's very important.
Virgil wants to play us something.
- How is our son doing? - Great.
But you need to ask him yourself.
Yeah.
[PLAYING "THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER".]
[LAUGHS.]
- [CHERYL.]
Bravo! - [JAMIE.]
Bravo! Come here.
Give me a kiss.
Wow! Where did that come from? It came from that stupid video I was in.
I thought about who I am and what this country's all about.
I did some research and found out Francis Scott Key wrote a mad racist verse endorsing slavery.
So, all this time, we've been singing this national anthem about our 246 years of enslavement, not to end it, but to continue it.
- Virgil, I didn't know this.
- Me neither.
Google.
All right, we'll be up soon.
- That was great.
- Thank you.
- Love you.
- Love you too.
That's our best work.
Yeah.
Where is No-No La-La? La-No? La-No? [DOORBELL RINGING.]
- [MOANS.]
- [DOORBELL RINGING.]
Ugh! Who is it? - [STATIC.]
- [MAN.]
You know who this is.
I can't hear you! - It's - [DOORBELL RINGING.]
Stop ringing my bell! Go away! [DOORBELL RINGING.]
[RINGING CONTINUES.]
Enough.
- [GRUNTS.]
- [RINGING STOPS.]
[SIGHS.]
- [KNOCKING ON DOOR.]
- [SCREAMS, WHINES.]
Are you fucking kidding me? [KNOCKING CONTINUES.]
Go to hell! [DOOR OPENS.]
What the fuck are you doing here, Greer? Somebody had a long night.
You gonna let me in? No! No, I'm not gonna let you in, and I do not appreciate you coming over here unannounced.
Well, if you would've answered my calls and texts! Boy, bye! Baby, could you please open the door so I can talk to you? Did I not set the rules? And did you not agree to those rules? - All you do is break the rules.
- Whatever.
I'm not in the mood for a booty call.
No, I'm not here for your lovin' bed.
Let's go out, celebrate your triumphant debut.
How about dinner? Go to a film.
Whatever you like.
I just wanna show you a nice time.
Cinema? Okay.
Old or new? Old.
Shot in black-and-white.
Okay, a film it is.
I'll text you.
I did not commit to that.
[SOFT JAZZ MUSIC PLAYING.]
[GREER.]
Mmm.
Come on, I don't wanna miss previews.
- Give me one of those.
- Yes.
What can I do for you? Peola.
We've been lookin' everywhere for you.
Are you talking to me? There must be some mistake.
My name isn't Peola.
There ain't no mistake.
Why have you got this job? You don't have to work.
I'll give you everything you want.
What are you talking about? I'm sure you've got me confused with someone else.
Why, why, Peola, child, I'm your mammy.
Why, that's ridiculous.
I never saw you before in my life.
[MAN.]
What's the meaning of this? This woman doesn't know what she's talking about.
Do I look like her daughter? Do I look like I could be her daughter? Why, she must be crazy! [SOFT JAZZ MUSIC PLAYING.]
You okay? Yeah, I'm fine.
You got that I don't know, this je ne sais quoi.
In fact - Let me show you.
- Uh, I'm really - Just get over here.
- [CAMERA CLICKS.]
- That's sweet.
- Mm.
Bisou.
- Greer, lost my number? - I miss you.
- How you doin'? - Long time no see.
- Greer! - Call me back.
- [POP SONG PLAYING.]
- Where you been? Just for you to go and destroy it But that's just how it goes When your life isn't movin' [IN FRENCH.]
[IN FRENCH.]
Salut.
Before you came, it was all about Thank you.
All about, all about me I didn't worry about a thing 'Cause it was all about All about me It's crazy How you give your heart to someone Just to try somethin' different Put your heart to a gun - Problem? - Not mine.
- May I join you? - Yes, please do.
Nola, Lilly.
Lilly, Nola.
- You're beautiful.
- Thank you.
So are you.
[IN FRENCH.]
- Congratulations.
- Thank you.
- I'll be back with your drink orders.
- Thank you.
So, what, you think you're Guido from Fellini's 8 1/2? You got your harem at last, King Solomon.
- [CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKING.]
- [MOANING.]
[IN FRENCH.]
Anyway [IN FRENCH.]
Ooh, la, la.
[IN FRENCH.]
- You speak French now.
- Maybe.
The language of love.
Your accent is so wack.
[GREER LAUGHS.]
- It's cute.
It's cute.
- Don't touch me.
[GREER LAUGHS.]
I want you to try some of these vegan dishes.
It's my cheat day.
This is fennel sausage.
This is adzuki bacon.
It's all beans.
That is really good.
I've never had that before.
Mm.
I don't mind vegetarian, but I'm an omnivore.
Well, I may be a vegetarian, but I'm a carnivore in your lovin' bed.
You are a cannibal in my lovin' bed.
[BOTH GROWL, LAUGH.]
[PHONE VIBRATING.]
[IN FRENCH.]
And congratulations on your show.
Superbe.
Thank you.
- ["ALL IN LOVE IS FAIR" PLAYS.]
- All is fair in love Parent-teacher conferences are next Thursday.
Do you wanna go or shall I? As long as that white liberal asshole headmaster is there That's fine, I'll go.
I'll go.
It's not what I said.
If he's not there No, it's fine.
- I can go.
- I'm happy to go.
In love as one they say But all is changed with time The future no one can see I told my wife and my son that I would never leave them like my father left my mother and I.
I'm stuck.
Love versus duty.
Passion over security.
I need Nola Darling, but my family needs me more.
There's a poetry in this dilemma.
But it's a poem that I wish I could write my way out of.
Can I evolve? Give it all up for Nola? Or make it work with my beautiful wife, Cheryl? Why did I buy this self-portrait? If only it were Nola herself in my bed It might be the only thing about Nola I can afford.
I grip it tight with the hand that wears our wedding ring.
This canvas is cold.
This bed is colder.
How can I spend another cold night alone? Quite a turnout last night.
- How do you think it went? - It went well.
I was in good company.
It was a bit nerve-wracking at first, but I was happy to be a part of it.
- Just wish one of my pieces had sold.
- Quite a scene.
I don't think I've ever seen you that way before.
[POP SONG PLAYING.]
Would have been nice to get an invitation.
[CHUCKLES.]
It wasn't about you.
It was about my work.
Besides, you didn't seem to have any problems getting in.
- I'm Greer Childs.
- Mm, what a gift.
I bet your other dudes were there.
Did they get an invitation? Yes, she did.
I don't ask you about your other women.
- [MOANING.]
- What do you want to know? - I don't.
- First time you sketched me what did you see? [NOLA.]
Shapes, colors, lines.
Contrast, shadows, contours, and, uh negative space.
[LINE RINGING.]
["NOLA" PLAYING.]
There's a girl that I once knew Who often had a friend or two She gave them time Love, wit, and rhyme, sublime They would come from far away And often gather there all day To show their love And see which one would stay But to her it mattered not For loyalty was not her lot Her answer was For not for them to know There she goes on her merry way Though she's only queen for a day Boy and girl often take this world Did I say you could sit down? Do I need permission? - Of course.
- My advice to you, my friend - [SIGHS.]
- Is try to find what it's about And then you take into account Excuse me, miss, may I sit next to you? I love that song.
Jay Z and Pharrell, right? What do you know about Hov? - I know he that dude.
- [CHUCKLES.]
Did you know Jay Z mentions Rilke in "What They Gonna Do" from The Blueprint 2? I have a friend of a friend who knows Jay, who told me one of his dopest tracks, "There's Been a Murder," was heavily influenced by Rilke's "Death Experience.
" You know that one? Naw.
Spit a few bars.
[CHUCKLES.]
Okay.
"We continue our play," picking up gestures now and then, and anxiously reciting that which was difficult to learn.
But you're far away so that, for a while, we play life rapturously, "not thinking of any applause.
" "Rapturously.
" Rilke was definitely the Jay Z of his time.
So, I guess you like poetry or whatever.
I love poetry.
- My name is Jamie.
- Nola.
- Pleased to meet you, Nola.
- Likewise, Mr.
Jamie.
Damn.
"Mr.
Jamie.
" It's like that? Yeah, it's like that.
You grown as fuck.
[BOTH LAUGHING.]
I love your candor.
I love the fact that you just used the word "candor.
" As opposed to "keepin' it 100"? Oh, my goodness.
Everybody is saying "keep it 100.
" Like, everybody.
Especially the white hipsters, trying to lean and dab around the pool at weekend rooftop parties at the Gansevoort Park Avenue.
It's a cultural black card.
Plus, they know all the words back-to-back.
Of course they do.
Drake is a cult.
No doubt, Nola.
But here's the burning question.
What's that? Do you believe in love at first sight? In the film Love Jones, yes.
- Now, it's time bid adieu - Not so much in real life.
I'll see you when it's time to meet again [MUSIC ENDS.]
Nola, Jamie.
Call me.
- [POP MUSIC PLAYS.]
- In France, you don't enter the room wearing your race on your sleeve like you do here.
You know, you don't have to choose.
You can be both.
So, when I came here as a kid, it was a difficult transition.
So, wait, what are you saying? There's no racism in France? Do you see how the French treat Africans and Muslims? I know.
It's just more binary in the U.
S.
Anyway, so you're mad about some critic who said that your work is pedestrian.
Basically I have no clear vision, and my work didn't fit in with the theme of the show.
Not cohesive, not black enough.
You see, right there, a French critic would never have that criticism.
But, chérie, you had very different pieces.
Like, how do they actually connect? They just do.
Right, but I wanna know how they connect.
How do you say "check, please" in French, hm? Lilly? Lilly? [PHONE VIBRATING.]
Actually, your work wasn't like the other artists.
That's what I loved about it.
Theirs was so blackity-black-black.
I'm so sick of that.
And yours was Nola's point of view.
Fluid.
Yes.
Exactly.
Thank you.
This guy thinks he's the authority on blackness, - the black female form.
- I love your form.
And he's calling my blackness into question as if there's some singular representation, - like I'm not black enough.
- I completely understand.
So, I get called out by this white critic asshole for not expressing his version of the black aesthetic? Like, what the fuck does he know? See? Thank you! That That's what I'm trying to say.
We have so much in common.
Like, how I get criticized by black people for not being black enough.
I feel like I'm always having to prove my identity and choose a side.
And if I choose, what? Like, do I deny my white French mother? Does that make me more black? What about my African-American father? The man was a Black Panther, for Christ's sake.
It's just so fucked up.
Commercially, the space is dominated by white folks.
They're the gatekeepers.
They get to decide what's hot and what's not.
- [GASPS.]
- Can you feel how hard I am right now? [MOANS.]
But it's fucked up.
I just want you to be resilient.
I love how you have the courage to put your work out there.
I want the same for myself, you know.
Commercial photography is just disposable, you know? It's just appeasing the clients.
The gatekeepers.
What are your artistic aspirations? I want my work to be immortal.
Maybe do a show.
Put a book out.
- You know, somethin' personal.
- Why don't you? It takes courage.
I don't know, I guess I'm caught between wantin' to move forward and wantin' to have the stability of bein' able to eat.
- [NOLA CHUCKLES.]
- Keep a roof over my head.
I don't wanna lose my net.
I mean, can't you see how I live? Sometimes, you gotta jump without the net.
But I can understand that.
You know, that's that New York City hustle.
Well, apparently not, if your art's not selling.
Wow! I was waiting for the old Greer to rear its ugly-asshole head, and there it is.
No, no, no, wait.
Chérie, stay, sit.
Relax.
What are you doing? Why are you in my bathroom? Can I join you? Please? Shut the door.
- [RAP SONG PLAYING.]
- But I'll never change - You tryin' to trick me? - [LAUGHS.]
Here's your coat.
- Oh, thank you - Of course.
for bringin' this.
What's this? Really? Who are you today? [CHUCKLES.]
Mm.
This is pretty.
How you gonna tell me what to do How you gonna tell me who to be That's so sweet.
- You remember? - Of course I remember.
Yeah.
I know the title's a bit shocking, but it's actually a novel.
It's about these two young black roommates, these Francophiles livin' in the slums of Montreal in the 1980s.
- Mm-hm.
- So good.
One's a writer, and the other sleeps a lot and quotes the Quran and Camus.
- [CHUCKLES.]
- They don't have much to do because all these white women just keep throwing themselves at 'em.
There you go.
[IN FRENCH ACCENT.]
No, Miss Nola, I don't want them.
I want you.
I want us to do this more.
Go out, movies, dates, together.
What do you say? Um, I say I-I can't I can't do this right now.
[GREER.]
Nola! Nola! Nola! Excuse me.
Sorry.
Excuse me.
Pardon me.
Sorry.
- I'll never change - Excuse me.
Sorry.
You know I'll never ever change [PLAYING "ONE FOR MY BABY".]
One more.
It's quarter to three There's no one in the place Except you and me So, set 'em up, Joe I got a little story Thanks.
I think you should know - Madame.
- Thank you.
- We're drinking, my friend - Vodka martini.
- Thank you.
- To the end - Please, allow me.
- Oh, thank you.
Make it one for my baby And one more for the road You'd never know it But, buddy, I'm a kind of poet And I got a lot of things I'd like to say Like it? And when I'm gloomy [CHUCKLES.]
Won't you listen to me? Till it's talked away Well, that's how it goes And, Joe, I know you're gettin' Anxious to close All right.
And thanks for the cheer I hope you didn't mind My bendin' your ear But this torch that I found It's gotta be drowned Or it soon might explode So, make it one for my baby And one more for the road The long It's so long The long Very long [MUSIC ENDS.]
- [JOE.]
Hey, mac, I'm callin' you a cab.
- [JAMIE.]
I miss you, Nola.
[SIGHS.]
[GRUNTS.]
[JAMIE.]
I miss you so much.
[MACHINE BEEPING.]
Bitch, are you drunk? - What? No! - Ah, shit.
You're so loud.
Shh! We're in a hospital.
You look pretty.
I feel like shit.
[CHUCKLES.]
You look like shit.
- Damn you.
I just like - [BOTH LAUGH.]
[GROANING.]
- Ow, shit.
- I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
[VOICE QUAVERS.]
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry too.
I'm sorry I missed your show.
Sorry I missed yours too.
You ain't miss anything.
Neither did you, actually.
[CHUCKLES.]
[SHEMEKKA SOBBING.]
[SOFT PIANO MUSIC PLAYS.]