向以奇情故事取胜的法国导演欧容，这次令人大跌眼镜地转向批判现实主义，描述三名年少时遭遇神父性侵犯的男性受害者，成年后先后主动揭开难以启齿的悲惨经历，批判矛头直指天主教会里的恋童癖神父。这种严肃正统的社会及宗教题材不太像是欧容导演擅长的范畴，所以他以往那种活色生香或者骇人听闻的意象全无用武之地。他这次将功力发挥在剧本设计上，一位恋童癖神父的性侵事件先后引出三位男性受害者主角的故事，貌似传统的编

刷了整整一天，终于在凌晨三点看完了10集。整个剧刷下来反而喜欢上了全新的本，自卑却又好强，不停的想证明自己，喝酒后又跑去和克劳斯翻云覆雨，哈哈哈哈，简直是梗王。酒后乱性，敞开了他的和服，刚开始还意犹未尽的温存着昨日与克劳斯的猛烈冲撞，后来发现被对方逼着出柜，一时间深柜男慌张了，用咒骂代替了爱意，过了一会儿后又恩爱着一起坐电梯。泛爱男和深柜男

我感觉这部《颤抖吧，阿部！》厉害就厉害在不仅仅是颜值水平高，整个剧情和各种台词桥段更是脑洞大开创意满分的那种，这样的剧看起来简直太过瘾了了，各种的意想不到和出其不意简直给人搞笑暴击啊，哈哈哈，今年看过的所有电视剧和网剧加起来都没这部剧搞笑的感觉，应该可以开创一股网剧模式题材的新风潮了！

这部电影可真是太值得看了！

它有很多上世纪末北京的影子，可以让我了解一下我所出生的那个年代，繁华的首都大概是什么样的；

它有很多逗乐笑点，能深深感染观众：

- 你不要这么做

- 你别劝我，你劝我，我骂你祖宗

- 这老爷子，你怎么天天生火啊

- 省煤啊

- 哦，我说这院里怎么没蚊子呢（讽

首部司乘视角轻喜类型短剧《亲爱的乘客，你好》开播。通过代驾司机大锁（刘大锁 饰），以及出租车司机陈珂（于莎莎 饰）两个人的视角，将看到的、经历的、帮助的、被助的，人和事，逐一展示在观众和网友面前。讲述的是社会百态，品味的是不同人生。反正我去到一个新地方旅游，想要了解当地景点和美食等消息，很多时候，都会通过和出租车司机聊天

首部司乘视角轻喜类型短剧《亲爱的乘客，你好》开播。通过代驾司机大锁（刘大锁 饰），以及出租车司机陈珂（于莎莎 饰）两个人的视角，将看到的、经历的、帮助的、被助的，人和事，逐一展示在观众和网友面前。讲述的是社会百态，品味的是不同人生。反正我去到一个新地方旅游，想要了解当地景点和美食等消息，很多时候，都会通过和出租车司机聊天获得，甚至比导游介绍都全面。

【详细】

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片名译为“人狼恶”，大概是想表达人心比狼还要凶恶。然而对本片并不适用，原名“Hunter Hunter”大概是想表达一种“螳螂捕蝉，黄雀在后”、猎者恒为所猎的大自然之残酷危险，人和狼谁恶倒不是重点。当然本片看来是变态的人最恶，狼在里面简直就是盗亦有道的可爱小狗狗。然而，变态者固然可恨、

众所周知，国产职场偶像剧有套既定流程：

亮身份——瞎胡闹——整烂活——谈恋爱。

众所周知，国产职场偶像剧有套既定流程：

亮身份——瞎胡闹——整烂活——谈恋爱。

【详细】

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喷子真是无脑喷了，有多少人是看完整部剧来评分的，这么高质量这么好看的剧还有人打一星。不要吐槽银蟾的发型之类了，一人两角饰演双胞胎，这两个角色的区分度不就是从性格服装发型上来体现吗。不论是剧情内容，人物刻画还是演员的演技来说都是无可挑剔的，第一部剧情的节奏不是那么的快，但那是因为有第二部第三部，这种大制作剧情之类的当然要介绍清楚，每集后面的短篇也正起到补充剧情的作用

冲着本喵和喜剧的标签看完剧，结果整个人陷入了重重的抑郁情绪。这实在是非常优秀的一部作品：扎实的制作，优秀的演绎，用心的细节，严肃的话题碰撞上英剧独特的黑色幽默，真的让人很难不打高分。

不长不短的7集，通过Adam为首的各位医护人员在妇产科经历的一个个小故事其实是在对整个NHS完成了泣血的控诉又表达了深深的无奈

冲着本喵和喜剧的标签看完剧，结果整个人陷入了重重的抑郁情绪。这实在是非常优秀的一部作品：扎实的制作，优秀的演绎，用心的细节，严肃的话题碰撞上英剧独特的黑色幽默，真的让人很难不打高分。

不长不短的7集，通过Adam为首的各位医护人员在妇产科经历的一个个小故事其实是在对整个NHS完成了泣血的控诉又表达了深深的无奈。医护人员一边要背负起高负荷的工作强度，还要各自在学术专业上不断深耕完成自己的成长，同时还要承担起自己工作失误所带来的不可估量的后果以及由此而来的心理压力，然而工作环境和待遇却又难以得到改善。这种渡劫磨难式的职业道路真的有太多的不合理和不人道。但转向患者方面，他们在病痛之中仍在面临漫长的等待，糟糕的就诊环境和医疗体验。这种现有公共医疗环境下医患的全方面的冲突真的让人深感无力，无可奈何。

其实不仅仅是NHS，放眼全世界，大多数国家的公共医疗体系都面临着同样的问题。不然也就不会有那么多在等待中错失治疗机会的新西兰患者，也不会有日韩的研修医高自杀率，更不会有国内这么多的伤医事件。说到底，每个国家能够提供各公共医疗的资源仍然是太有限了：越来越高的医学生培养成本，日益增多的患者数量，不断紧缩的财政分配，这似乎就是一盘无解的棋局。

很有感触的一个情节是第6集关于私立医院和公立医院的对比。NHS这边忙到医生随时可以崩溃患者无法收治，一边私立医院每个病患超大的病房度假般的体验。这真是资本的力量和阶级的差异的极好的现实描画。所以你看， 底层人民的种种冲突对于高收入人群而言仿佛并不存在。放在国内其实情况也很类似，我们的医保体系和一线的临床医生的环境其实也并没什么太大不同。去年因为生病需要做一个特别的住院治疗，北京的几家公立医院都要排队五个月以上，而且只有小破的三人间；私立医院却能随时安排住院，还是星级酒店一样的独立病房。公立可以走医保，私立全自费，加上服务费等等两者费用差了四倍多吧…当时也是很感慨钱的重要性，想要吐槽命运的不公平的同时却又不得不承认这便是现实，因为这也有他符合市场规律的合理性。而另一方面，Adam说私立医院有最漂亮的吊灯，但NHS能救你的命。某种意义上也确实是这样吧。私立医院用高额的费用换来了更加优秀的服务体验，然而同时又因为私立医院的医疗资源存量和医院体量的原因在发生小概率/高复杂度紧急事件时很难很好的应对。同样是去年见证的事，一个私立医院的一个骨科小手术，发生了紧急麻醉事故，患者就这么没了，要实在公立大三甲其实应该还是能救回来的…所以又一次感受到了这个世界的荒谬…说到底，私立医院的存在是靠市场规律来平衡公立医疗资源的稀缺性，但两种体质各有优劣，最终到每个患者，只要医疗资源本身的稀缺性没有改变，其实这一切仍然是没有绝对最优解的啊…

剧中Adam的形象非常鲜活，在于他并不是一个完美的人，他也会犯错，他也有私心，他本性善良却也有恶的念头。他是个救人性命的英雄的同时，也是个无法平衡工作和私欲的普通人。他为了自己的误诊而懊恼，为了患者离世而悲伤，却也惧怕投诉会让他丢掉工作，甚至会用些小手段。也很喜欢Adam和Harry的对手戏，Adam内心的挣扎和脆弱都在Harry面前被小心的隐藏又被无情的暴露。这段感情温暖却不能对等，坚定却又非常脆弱，让人叹息可也惹人羡慕。剧集呈现给我们的就是这么一个个鲜活而真实的年轻人的形象，而不是在一味的造神或造抓马，这也是它吸引人的原因之一吧。

Adam最爱说I'm Fine，其实大家都知道当你用fine这个词来形容与自己相关事情的时候，基本就是not fine了。很多年前的电影就告诉过我们I'm fine means I'm "Fucked Up/Freaked Out, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional". 一点不假。Adam又用他的故事再次演绎了这个解释…

剧集在最后用Adam的崩溃和Shruti的自尽完成了对NHS的控诉，又在湖中的对话中完成了Adam对他自己医生这个职业选择的正当化和救赎。现在的我们其实都忘了，“医生”终究也只是人，是人就会有犯错误的时候，是人就有能力的极限。不是所有的疾病都能被治好，不是所有的治疗都是简单的打针吃药。真实的人生里疼痛难免，真实的医疗也只能做到偶尔治愈。特别是在医疗资源的稀缺性无法被解决的当下时代，让我们都看清现实，多几分理解吧。

【详细】

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真的很上头啊！每一天都追着看，我妈也是追着看，虽然的确不是完美剧本，但是剧情一点都不拖塌，里面的唐董啊，陈彼得啊，干了恶心人的事情很快就会被制裁，不像有些电视剧磨磨唧唧看的人牙痒痒。

而且去拍卫生棉的那段我也觉得很好，虽然后期审核被改了，但是！！能有这个初衷就已经很棒了，结合最近的高铁卫生巾的热点，真的觉得中

真的很上头啊！每一天都追着看，我妈也是追着看，虽然的确不是完美剧本，但是剧情一点都不拖塌，里面的唐董啊，陈彼得啊，干了恶心人的事情很快就会被制裁，不像有些电视剧磨磨唧唧看的人牙痒痒。

而且去拍卫生棉的那段我也觉得很好，虽然后期审核被改了，但是！！能有这个初衷就已经很棒了，结合最近的高铁卫生巾的热点，真的觉得中国的女性问题还有很多。

金世佳和沈佳男的线太甜了，磕的我好上头，沈佳男真的很好看啊，虽然弹幕都说她丑，就能反映出来，其实大众对于，这种比较有攻击性的长相还是有偏见，还有沈佳楠爸爸生病那段。我真的感同身受，弹幕都说她冷血。我父亲也是在我很小的时候因为喝大酒我妈就跟他离婚了，这些年也不太管我，我带入沈佳男知道自己父亲出轨，我根本他能一下死了才好呢，我才不会觉得有多难受，只会觉得活该。

【详细】

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聊聊武大郎

最近抖音里，武松血战狮子楼挺火，这个被重复了无数遍的故事，又一次被搬上了大荧幕，尽管只是个网络电影，但也说明了消费市场的认同。

其实关于西门庆和潘金莲的那点事，大家关注的无非就是演潘金莲的女演员换成了谁？至于情节我估计早就烂熟于心，从掉杆子，到做衣裳

聊聊武大郎

最近抖音里，武松血战狮子楼挺火，这个被重复了无数遍的故事，又一次被搬上了大荧幕，尽管只是个网络电影，但也说明了消费市场的认同。

其实关于西门庆和潘金莲的那点事，大家关注的无非就是演潘金莲的女演员换成了谁？至于情节我估计早就烂熟于心，从掉杆子，到做衣裳，再到大郎喂药，实在是拍不出啥新意了，就算有谁敢改编，估计观众也不太能接受。但这倒是提醒了我，为啥就没有人把武大郎这个角色改一改呢？

你要是说这个故事一共就四个主角，武大郎，武二郎，潘金莲，西门庆，西门庆属于定死了风流成性的人设，下辈子也不可能变了，潘金莲倒是有人尝试着去探索一下，王祖贤那一版就挺好，有了些许深度和变化，但也仅此而已了。至于，武松这个形象，没有可比性，毕竟武松的故事可不止这一个，在这个故事里，武松只是工具人。最后，剩下武大郎这个角色，这么多年就没有什么大的改动，永远是憨厚老实个子矮，窝囊被绿被人骑。但其实仔细想想，这个角色才应该是最有想象空间的。他为啥能娶潘金莲？他为啥有个人高马大，天生神力的亲弟弟武松？这两个条件简直就是bug，也太TM巧了，到今天为止，也没见到哪部作品能把这两个设定讲的我心服口服的，这么一个超现实存在的人物为啥就没能被好好挖掘一下呢？充分展示一下人物的心路历程。

这就是我细思极恐的结论了，原因很简单，观众不爱看，大家都爱看美女出轨，英雄复仇，至于穷小子和矮冬瓜的人生谁爱去看呢？或许很多人都会觉得武大郎就配不上潘金莲，这样的悲剧结局很符合他的人设，那我就想问个严肃的问题了？我们看多了公主与王子，美女与野兽，灰姑娘的故事，咋都没觉得不合适，偏偏到了穷小子和穷美女就不合适了，排列组合缺了一项啊。

这么一想反倒提醒我了，不是我们不信，恰恰生活里我们都是，电影是造梦的，它代表着我们内心的渴望，而我们接受不了的不恰恰就是现实吗？无论是野兽，还是灰姑娘，不过都是男女美好的希望，芸芸众生有几个王子公主，最后不都是武大郎和潘金莲这样的人吗？区别仅仅在于悲剧和悲剧也总要分个胜负的，美貌的人往往更能让人心生怜悯，而善良嘛，武大郎式的悲剧往往无人问津。想到此，确实心为之一寒，现在这个时代，为潘金莲们打开了扔杆子的新窗户，却给武大郎们关上了卖烧饼的门，不得不为武大郎捏一把汗啊，这毒药可是越来越毒了。

最后的最后，特别想到一句话，挺丧的，丑小鸭之所以能变天鹅，是因为它本来就是天鹅，而好看的鸭也始终是只鸭。而我想说，短腿的蛤蟆遍地是，也总有几个胆子大的，总想试试能不能吃到鸭，飞不走的鸭们，也请看看它。

【详细】

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看多了动辄几十集的剧，最近爱上了短剧。节奏快，不灌水。虽然大部分制作很粗糙。但是也有好的，比如这部剧 制作用心 演员会演 剧情丰富饱满 。开局就爱情线 亲情线 突然出现问题 。解决问题的过程中 男女主的各种恩爱拿捏的恰到好处。比纯撒糖的剧 好了太多了～ 完美的解决了我吃饭上厕所的碎片时间。希望以后的短剧都能这样。麻雀虽小 五脏俱全

特地下了个豆瓣来打这个1星，太烂了。演员的演技都挺不错，就是这个编剧，我简直不知道该说什么了，小学生都不会这么写，失望。到陈香死了之后几乎全是快进看的，那么多东西不交代，搁这玩角色扮演救人？有头没尾的编剧，上过学么？特地下了个豆瓣来打这个1星，太烂了。演员的演技都挺不错，就是这个编剧，我简直不知道该说什么了，小学生都不会这么写，失望。到陈香死了之后几乎全是快进看的，那么多东西不交代，搁这玩角

讲述一位超模界的新星EVA（甄圆圆）有着魔鬼般的身材，在外界眼里是一个很成功的模特，然而别人不知道的是她的体质很特殊，一天只能吃几十粒米，不然就会变胖。但在之后EVA遇上了曾经自己暗恋过的人阮东升，而且发现只要是他做的饭菜吃了就不会变胖，为了美食和身材，EVA便开始赖在了阮东升身边，就开启了他们的恋爱之旅，总体来说还是很甜的，没有特别虐的部分，剧情也还不错，男二和女二也太可了吧，不错，推荐<

So I stopped at a Jack in the Box on the way here, and the girl behind the counter said, “Hiya! Are you having an awesome day?” Not, “How are you doing today?” No. “Are you having an

So I stopped at a Jack in the Box on the way here, and the girl behind the counter said, “Hiya! Are you having an awesome day?” Not, “How are you doing today?” No. “Are you having an awesome day?” Which is pretty… shitty, because it puts the onus on me to disagree with her, like if I’m not having an “awesome day,” suddenly I’m the negative one.

Usually when people ask how I’m doing, the real answer is I’m doing shitty, but I can’t say I’m doing shitty because I don’t even have a good reason to be doing shitty. So if I say, “I’m doing shitty,” then they say, “Why? What’s wrong?” And I have to be like, “I don’t know, all of it?” So instead, when people ask how I’m doing, I usually say, “I am doing so great.”

But when this girl at the Jack in the Box asked me if I was having an awesome day, I thought, “Well, today I’m actually allowed to feel shitty.” Today I have a good reason, so I said to her, “Well, my mom died,” and she immediately burst into tears. So now I have to comfort her, which is annoying, and meanwhile, there’s a line of people forming behind me who are all giving me these real judgy looks because I made the Jack in the Box girl cry. And she’s bawling, and she’s saying, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” and I’m like, “It’s fine. It’s fine.” I mean, it’s not fine but, you know, it’s… fine. And I would like to order a Double Jack Meal, and I’ve kinda got somewhere to be, so maybe less with the crying and more with the frying, huh? [inhales] And the girl apologizes again and she offers me a free churro with my meal. And as I’m leaving, I think, “I just got a free churro because my mom died.” No one ever tells you that when your mom dies, you get a free churro.

[people murmuring]

[clears throat]

Anyway, I’m sorry, that’s not part of the… [clears throat] All right. Okay, here we go. Let’s do this. Here I am, BoJack Horseman, doing a eulogy, let’s go. Hey, piano man, can I get a, like an organ flourish? [organ plays] Nicely done. You know, I was a little worried I wouldn’t have the right accompaniment today. I guess it’s a good thing my mom was an organ donor! [rimshot plays] What happened to the organ? [horn ‘oogahs’] Okay, why just leave the comedy to the professionals? Okay? This is a funeral, sir, for my mother. Can you show a little respect? [trumpet whines] I’ll take it.

Beatrice Horseman, who was she? What was her deal? Well, she was a horse. Uh, she was born in 1938. She died in 2018. One time, she went to a parade, and one time, she smoked an entire cigarette in one long inhale. I watched her do it. Truly a remarkable woman.

[rustling]

Lived a full life, that lady. Just, all the way to the end, which is, uh, now I guess. Really makes you think, though, huh? Life, right? Goes by, stuff happens. Then you die. Okay, well that’s my time, you’ve been great! Tip your waitress! No, I’m just kidding around, there’s no waitress. But seriously, that’s all I have to say about my mother. No point beating a dead horse, right? So…

[inhales] Now what? I don’t know. Mom, you got any ideas? Anything? Mom? No? Nothing to contribute? Knock once if you’re proud of me.

Can I just say how amazing it is to be in a room with my mother, and I can just talk and talk without her telling me to shut up and make her a drink? Hey, Mom, knock once if you think I should shut up. No? You sure? I mean, I don’t want to embarrass you by making this eulogy into a me-logy, so, seriously, if you wanted me to sit down and let someone else talk, just knock. I will not be offended. No? Your funeral.

Sorry about the closed casket, by the way. She wanted an open casket, but uh, you know, she’s dead now, so who cares what she wanted? No, that sounds bad. I’m sorry. I-I think that if she could’ve seen what she looked like dead, she’d agree it’s better this way. She looked like this.

[groaning]

[mourners gasping]

Kinda like a pissed-off toy dinosaur. The coroner couldn’t get her eyes closed, so now her face is forever frozen in a mask of tremendous horror and anguish. Or as my mom called it, Tuesday! Tuesday! My mom called it Tuesday.

[woman coughs]

Hey, Mom, what did you think of that joke? You like that? You never did care for my comedy.

[clears throat]

Here’s a story. When I was a teenager, I performed a comedy routine for my high school talent show. There was this, uh, cool jacket that I wanted to wear because I thought it would make me look like Albert Brooks. For months, I saved up for this jacket. But when I finally had enough, I went to the store and it was gone. They had just sold it to someone else. So, I went home and I told my mother, and she said, “Let that be a lesson. That’s the good that comes from wanting things.” She was really good at dispensing life lessons that always seemed to circle back to everything being my fault.

But then, on the day of the talent show, my mother had a surprise for me. She had bought me the jacket. Even though she didn’t know how to say it, I know this meant that she loved me.

Now that’s a good story about my mother. It’s not true, but it’s a good story, right? I stole it from an episode of Maude I saw when I was a kid, where she talks about her father. I remember when I saw it, thinking, “That’s the kind of story I want to tell about my parents when they die.” But I don’t have any stories like that. All I know about being good, I learned from TV. And in TV, flawed characters are constantly showing people they care with these surprising grand gestures. And I think that part of me still believes that’s what love is. But in real life, the big gesture isn’t enough. You need to be consistent, you need to be dependably good. You can’t just screw everything up and then take a boat out into the ocean to save your best friend, or solve a mystery, and fly to Kansas. You need to do it every day, which is so… hard.

When you’re a kid, you convince yourself that maybe the grand gesture could be enough, that even though your parents aren’t what you need them to be over and over and over again, at any moment, they might surprise you with something… wonderful. I kept waiting for that, the proof that even though my mother was a hard woman, deep down, she loved me and cared about me and wanted me to know that I made her life a little bit brighter. Even now, I find myself waiting.

Hey, Mom, knock once if you love me and care about me and want me to know I made your life a little bit brighter.

[owl chirping]

My mother did not go gentle into that good night. She went clawing and fighting and thrashing, hence the face.

[groaning]

[mourners gasping]

If you’d seen her, I swear to God the only thing you’d be thinking about right now is that I am nailing this impression.

[woman clears her throat]

[chairs squeak]

I was in the hospital with her those last moments, and they were truly horrifying, full of nonsencial screams and cries, but there was this moment, this one instant of strange calm, where she looked in my direction and said, “I see you.” That’s the last thing she said to me. “I see you.” Not a statement of judgment or disappointment, just acceptance and the simple recognition of another person in a room. “Hello there. You are a person. And I see you.”

Let me tell you, it’s a weird thing to feel at 54 years old, that for the first time in your life your mother sees you. It’s an odd realization that that’s the thing you’ve been missing, the only thing you wanted all along, to be seen. And it doesn’t feel like a relief, to finally be seen. It feels mean, like, “Oh, it turns out that you knew what I wanted, and you waited until the very last moment to give it to me.” I was prepared for more cruelty. I was sure that she would get in one final zinger about how I let her down, and about how I was fat and stupid and too tall to be an effective Lindy-hopper. How I was needy and a burden and an embarrassment—all that I was ready for. I was not ready for “I see you.” Only my mother would be lousy enough to swipe me with a moment of connection on her way out. But maybe I’m giving her too much credit. Maybe it wasn’t about connection. Maybe it was a… maybe it was an “I see you,” like, uh, “I see you.” Like, “You might have the rest of the world fooled, but I know exactly who you are.” That’s more my mom’s speed.

Or maybe she just literally meant “I see you. You are an object that has entered my field of vision.” She was pretty out of it at the end, so maybe it’s dumb to try to attribute it to anything.

[woman sighs]

Back in the 90s, I was in a very famous TV show called Horsin’ Around.

[man coughs]

Please hold your applause. And I remember one time, a fan asked me, “Hey, um, you know that episode where the horse has to give Ethan a pep talk after Ethan finds out his crush only asked him to the dance because her friends were having a dorkiest date contest? In all the shots of the horse, you can see a paper coffee cup on the kitchen counter, but in the shots of Ethan, the coffee cup’s missing. Was that because the show was making a statement about the fluctuant subjectivity of memory and how even two people can experience the same moment in entirely different ways?” And I didn’t have the heart to be, like, “No, man, some crew guy just left their coffee cup in the shot.” So instead, I was, like… “Yeah.”

And maybe this is like that coffee cup. Maybe we’re dumb to try to pin significance onto every little thing. Maybe when someone says, “I see you,” it just means, “I see you.” Then again, it’s possible she wasn’t even talking to me because, if I’m being honest, she wasn’t really looking at me. She was looking just past me. There was nobody else in the room, so I want to think she was talking to me, but, honestly, she was so far gone at that point, who knows what she was seeing? Who were you talking to, Mom? [sighs] Not saying, huh? Staying mum? No rimshot there? God, whatever I’m paying you, it’s too much.

Maybe she saw my dad. My dad died about ten years ago of injuries he sustained during a duel. When your father dies, you ask yourself a lot of questions. Questions like, “Wait, did you say he died in a duel?” and “Who dies in a duel?” The whole thing was so stupid. Dad spent his entire life writing this book, but he couldn’t get any stores to carry it or any newspapers to review it. Finally, I guess this one newspaper thought he was pretty hilarious, because they ran a review and tore him to shreds. So my father, ever the proud Mary, decided he would not stand for this besmirchment of his honor. He claimed the critic didn’t understand what it meant to be a man, so he demanded satisfaction in the form of pistols at dawn. He wrote the paper this letter, saying anyone who didn’t like his book, he would challenge to a duel, anyone in the world. He’d even pay for airfare to San Francisco and a night in a hotel. Well, eventually this found its way to some kook in Montana, who was as batshit as he was and took him up on the offer. They met at Golden Gate Park and agreed: ten paces, then shoot. But in the middle of the ten paces, Dad turned to ask the guy if he’d actually read the book and what he thought, but, not looking where he was going, tripped over an exposed root and bashed his head on a rock.

[murmur]

I wish I’d known to go to Jack in the Box then. Maybe I could have gotten a free churro. It would’ve been nice to have something to show for being the son of Butterscotch Horseman. My darling mother gave the eulogy. My entire life I never heard her say a kind word to or about my father, but at his funeral she said, “My husband is dead, and everything is worse now.”

“My husband is dead, and everything is worse now.” I don’t know why she said that. Maybe she felt like that’s the kind of thing you’re supposed to say at a funeral. Maybe she hoped one day someone would say that about her. “My mother is dead, and everything is worse now.” Or maybe she knew that he had frittered away all her inheritance, and replaced it with crippling debt, which is a pretty shitty thing to leave your widow with. “Bad news, you lost a husband, but don’t worry, you also lost the house!” Maybe Mom knew she’d have to sell all her fancy jewelry and move into a home. Maybe that’s what she meant by “everything is worse now.” Is that what you meant, Mom?

I gotta say, I’m really carrying this double act. At least with Penn and Teller, the quiet one does card tricks. Hey, piano man, when I say something funny to my mom, how about you give me one of those rimshots?

[rimshot plays]

Yeah, but not now. When I say something funny. Like, okay. What’s the difference between my mother and a disruptive expulsion of germs? One’s a coughin’ fit and the other fits a coffin! That’s an example of a funny thing.

[rimshot plays]

Thank you. Let’s try again. Hey, Mom. What’s the difference between my mother and a bunch of Easter eggs? One gets carried in a basket, the other gets buried in a casket!

[rimshot plays]

Ready for one more? Last one. What’s the difference between a first-year lit major and my mother, Beatrice Horseman? One is decently read, and the other’s a huge bitch!

[woman gasps]

[murmurs]

Yeah, might have gone a little too far with that one. That one might’ve been a little too “my mom’s a huge bitch” for the room. I’m sorry, Mother. You’re not a huge bitch. You were a huge bitch… and now you’re dead.

[woman sighs]

You know, the first time I ever performed in front of an audience, it actually was, uh, with my mom. She used to put on these shows with her supper club in the living room and she used to make… [inhales] She used to make me sing “The Lollipop Song.”

[organ playing tune]

Those parties, they were really something. There were skits and magic acts, and ethnically insensitive vaudeville routines, and the big finale was always a dance my mother did. She had this beautiful dress that she only brought out for these parties, and she did this incredible number. It was so beautiful and sad. Dad hated the parties. He’d lock himself in the study, and bang on the walls for us to keep it down, but he always came out to see Mom dance. He’d linger in the doorway, scotch in hand, and watch in awe, as this cynical, despicable woman he married… took flight. And as a child who was completely terrified of both my parents, I was always aware that this moment of grace, it meant something. We understood each other in a way. Me and my mom and my dad, as screwed up as we all were, we did understand each other. My mother, she knew what it’s like to feel your entire life like you’re drowning, with the exception of these moments, these very rare, brief instances, in which you suddenly remember… you can swim.

[flashback]

[partygoers laughing]

[classical music playing]

But then again, mostly not. Mostly you’re drowning. She understood that, too. And she recognized that I understood it. And Dad. All three of us were drowning, and we didn’t know how to save each other, but there was an understanding that we were all drowning together. And I would like to think that that’s what she meant when we were in the hospital and she said, “I see you.”

You know, the weird thing about both your parents being dead is it means that you’re next. I mean, you know, obviously it’s not like there’s a waitlist for dying. Any one of us could get run over by a Snapchatting teen at any moment. And you would think that knowing that would make us more adventurous, and kind, and forgiving. But it makes us small, and stupid, and petty.

I actually had a near-death experience recently. A stunt went bad and I fell off a building. I’m an actor, I do my own stunts. I’m on this new show Philbert. I’m Philbert. Star of the show. It hasn’t come out yet, but it’s already getting Emmy buzz. Oh, speaking of buzz… [inhales] I’m supposed to take two of these every morning, but my days are so screwed up ‘cause of the shooting schedule, I don’t even know what morning means anymore. There’s a joke in there somewhere, about a guy who’s been to so many funerals, he doesn’t even know what mourning means anymore. Let you guys figure that one out for yourselves. [gulps]

Anyway, you know what I thought, when I was falling off the building and I went into panic mode? The last thing that my stupid brain could come up with before I died? “Won’t they be sorry.” Cool thought, brain.

[rimshot plays]

No, that wasn’t… would you just… dial it back, all right?

I don’t even know what “they” I wanted to be sorry. My mom, even before she died, could barely remember who I was. And of course, my dad’s dead. The last conversation I ever had with him was about his novel. He was so certain this book was his legacy. Maybe he thought it would vindicate him for all the shitty things he ever did in his stupid worthless life. Maybe it did, I don’t know. I never read it, because why would I give him that?

I used to be on this TV show called Horsin’ Around. Seriously, though, hold your applause.

[man coughs]

Well held. It was written by my friend Herb Kazzaz, who’s also dead now, and it starred this little girl named Sarah Lynn. And it was about these orphans. And early on, the network had a note, “Maybe don’t mention they’re orphans so much, because audiences tend to find orphans sad and not relatable.” But I never thought that the orphans were sad. I-I always thought they were lucky, because they could imagine their parents to be anything they wanted. They had something to long for.

Anyway, we did this one season finale, where Olivia’s birth mother comes to town. And she was a junkie, but she’s gotten herself cleaned up, and she wants to be in Olivia’s life again. And of course, she’s like a perfect grown-up version of Olivia, and they go to the mall together and get her ears pierced like she’s always wanted and—sorry, spoiler alert for the season six finale of Horsin’ Around, if you’re still working your way through it. Anyway, the horse tries to warn her, “Be careful, moms have a way of letting you down.” But Olivia just thinks the horse is jealous, and when the mom says she’s moving to California, Olivia decides to go with her. And the network really juiced the cliffhanger: “Is Olivia gone for good?” But of course, because it’s a TV show, she was not gone for good. Of course, because it’s a TV show, Olivia’s mother had a relapse and had to go back to rehab, so Olivia had to hitchhike all the way home, getting rides from Mr. T, Alf, and the cast of Stomp. Of course, that’s what happened. Because, what are you gonna do, just not have Olivia on the show? You can’t have happy endings in sitcoms, not really, because, if everyone’s happy, the show would be over, and above all else, the show… has to keep going. There’s always more show. And you can call Horsin’ Around dumb, or bad, or unrealistic, but there is nothing more realistic than that. You never get a happy ending, ‘cause there’s always more show.

I guess until there isn’t.

[chuckles]

My mom would hate it if she knew that I spent so much time at her funeral talking about my old TV show. Or maybe she’d think it was funny that her idiot son couldn’t even do this right. Who knows? She left no instructions for what she wanted me to say. All I know is she wanted an open casket, and her idiot son couldn’t even do that right. I’m not gonna stand up here and pretend I ever understood how to please that woman, even though so much of my life has been wasted in vain attempts to figure it out. But I keep going back to that moment in the ICU when she looked at me, and… “I-C-U.”

“I… see… you.” Jesus Christ, we were in the intensive care unit. She was just reading a sign. My mom died and all I got was this free churro.

You know the shittiest thing about all of this? Is when that stranger behind the counter gave me that free churro, that small act of kindness showed more compassion than my mother gave me her entire goddamn life. Like, how hard is it to do something nice for a person? This woman at the Jack in the Box didn’t even know me. I’m your son! All I had was you! [inhales]

I have this friend. And right around when I first met her, her dad died, and I actually went with her to the funeral. And months later, she told me that she didn’t understand why she was still upset, because she never even liked her father. It made sense to me, because I went through the same thing when my dad died. And I’m going through the same thing now. You know what it’s like? It’s like that show Becker, you know, with Ted Danson? I watched the entire run of that show, hoping that it would get better, and it never did. It had all the right pieces, but it just—it couldn’t put them together. And when it got canceled, I was really bummed out, not because I liked the show, but because I knew it could be so much better, and now it never would be. And that’s what losing a parent is like. It’s like Becker.

Suddenly, you realize you’ll never have the good relationship you wanted, and as long as they were alive, even though you’d never admit it, part of you, the stupidest goddamn part of you, was still holding on to that chance. And you didn’t even realize it until that chance went away.

My mother is dead, and everything is worse now, because now I know I will never have a mother who looks at me from across a room and says, “BoJack Horseman, I see you.” But I guess it’s good to know. It’s good to know that there is nobody looking out for me, that there never was, and there never will be. No, it’s good to know that I am the only one that I can depend on. And I know that now and it’s good. It’s good that I know that. So… it’s good my mother is dead.

[gulps, sighs]

Well. No point beating a dead horse. Beatrice Horseman was born in 1938, and she died in 2018, and I have no idea… what she wanted. Unless she just wanted what we all want… to be seen.

Is this Funeral Parlor B?

—— from Reddit