The Visit

(click)

(microphone thumping)

WOMAN:

At the end of high school,

I fell in love with

a substitute English teacher.

It was quite a scandal.

Corin didn't start out

a bad guy though.

We were together

about 10 years

and we had two kids.

And then he fell in love

with someone in a Starbucks

and moved to

Palo Alto, California.

Kind of severed relations

with the three of us.

My parents,

if I were defending them,

which I'm not,

had said back in the day

that he had an "impatient eye."

They didn't like him.

Week I left,

things... escalated.

My parents cursed at me,

which was, like, crazy unusual.

And it ended one afternoon

very badly.

I left at 19.

Haven't spoken

to my parents

in 15 years.

Whatever.

That's just the history.

Recently, my parents

looked me up on the Internet.

Asked to meet

their grandchildren.

Spend a week with them.

I looked my parents up.

They have a counseling Web site.

(chuckles)

People love 'em.

Ironically,

they counsel people,

which is a hoot.

Whatever.

I told the kids.

They said they wanted to go.

I told them I didn't

want them to go. They said

they were gonna go anyway.

They're brats.

What can I tell you?

And my 15-year-old

wants to make a documentary

about this.

GIRL:

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

Go back.

Describe the events

on the day you left

your parents' farm at 19.

I did something

I don't choose to tell you.

If they choose to tell you,

that's their right. Okay?

GIRL:

I wanna do this

for you.

MOM:

Listen, they're good people.

Ask them.

Can I be done with my part?

I still gotta

get you guys packed.

(speakers:

chorus vocalizing)

I'm on the text

with two separate girls.

It's important

you put the word

"separate" in there,

in case we thought

they were conjoined twins.

MOM:

Explain "on the text."

GIRL:

In communication.

Nothing more.

No, they're on deck.

You are 13!

There's no deck to be on.

GIRL:

I've seen him in the shower.

That's eerily accurate.

You don't even

have b*obs!

Stop, both of you!

I need to text.

(laughs)

It's one week.

Your phones won't work

all the way out there.

You'll be home Saturday.

GIRL:

Are you holding

my camera properly?

Swerve, girl.

Okay?

Oh.

(bell tolling)

(track bell ringing)

(no audible dialogue)

GIRL:

Our mother, Loretta Jamison,

is dating an eligible

and rather rakish-looking man

named Miguel Diego Torres.

He's in love with her.

We've decided

to promote this union

by giving them time.

They're going on a trip.

Mm-hmm.

A Royal Caribbean cruise.

Your basic beach cruise.

We're visiting

our grandparents,

whom we have never seen.

We don't know

their temperament

or their proclivities.

Yeah.

And we don't even know

what they like.

They--

They could be scrapbookers.

They could think

boy bands are cute.

- Ticket?

- GIRL:

Two for Masonville, PA.

Our grandparents

are meeting us.

You a, uh, film prodigy?

You know, I used to be

a pretty good actor.

GIRL:

Oh, my, uh--

my camera light's blinking.

"I am disgraced, impeached

and baffled here."

Battery pack is low.

"Pierced to the soul with

slander's venomed spear--"

Unfortunately,

I'm just gonna have to

shut the camera off.

(microphone rumbling)

(door closes)

Since our father left,

my-- my brother's had

a preoccupation with germs.

The psychologist

we saw for a month said it was

his way of controlling things.

(door opens)

(imitating beats)

(rapping)

Girl, I'm chillin' again

I'm feelin' again

I'm like Iron Man

and Batman

I'm a hero again

Oh

You think I'm little,

but last month I grew

an inch and a quarter again

You think you're

too good for me,

but that's really a joke

'Cause, see,

that doesn't bother me

'Cause I'm not

a sensitive bloke, oh

Now, in the end,

you'll be in my bed,

we won't be just friends

You'll write

inappropriate texts

and hit "send"

We share a Starbucks

Frappuccino blend, oh

And see, this isn't

just philosophy

It's based on science,

you see

Mr. Singh, my pediatrician,

just confirmed for me

You tall skanks,

I'm going through puberty

Ho

Ooh!

Whoo!

Pound.

Whoa.

Maybe I can rap at the end

of your documentary.

GIRL:

Right.

Because that's how

all Oscar-winning

documentaries end--

with songs of misogyny.

GIRL:

This is where

our mom grew up.

When she left,

she thought she was with

the man of her dreams.

(bell tolling)

WOMAN (laughing):

Oh!

Hi.

Hi.

(laughs)

MAN:

Becca, right?

Yeah?

BECCA:

Oh!

This is

Marja Bella Jamison.

Uh, my-- my nana.

She's a good cook.

And, uh, we--

we have the same eyes.

And this is Fredrick

Spencer Jamison.

My-- My Pop Pop.

He's a farmer now,

but they also volunteer

as counselors.

BECCA:

How do you feel about

your new grandparents, Tyler?

It's all good.

I mean, they don't even know

who One Direction is, so--

Nana, d-did you

make these pretzels?

Yes, I did.

(Pop Pop laughing)

NANA:

Thank you so much.

(kisses)

Yes.

NANA:

Here we are.

(car doors

opening, closing)

(Pop Pop sighs)

BECCA:
Tyler, look!

It's Mom's tree swing.

Okay, on camera,

tell us what Mom told you.

She used to wait out here

on this when her friends

would come over.

BECCA:
This is

the perfect cinematic image

to open the documentary.

Go near it.

Wait!

Wait, don't touch it.

Just let it

organically swing.

(hinge creaking)

BECCA:

We're entering the home

that Mom grew up in.

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