[typing]
Oh, man, things are gettin' groovy at Altamont Speedway tonight.
The place is packed with peace, love and rock and roll.
♪ ♪
♪ Please allow me to introduce myself ♪
♪ I'm not a man of wealth and taste ♪
♪ I've been around for a long, long year ♪
♪ Stole many a man's soul and faith ♪
Man: Not allowed.
They can't play music if you get on the stage.
Be cool, all right?
♪ Made damn sure that Pilate ♪
♪ Washed his hands and sealed his fate ♪
♪ ♪
♪ Pleased to meet you ♪
[indistinct shouting]
[screaming]
Spying?
No, reporting.
You're Nora Ephron from Wellesley.
We met at the Mid-Atlantic debate finals.
You exceeded your grace time.
Good, you're both here.
Two newbies, one spiel.
Get in here.
Have a seat.
"News of the Week"...
is the first draft of history each week.
Your job is to be fast,
and first and good and right.
That's all we ask.
Just don't write long first drafts, Nora.
This isn't debate.
I beat him at debate.
You two should join forces.
I'm assigning you two to be a writing team.
Uh, Patti Robinson's gonna take you around.
She's got long...
♪ ♪
[laughing]
Oh. Ahh.
[laughing]
- Oh, God. - [laughing]
[sighs] When I came back on Monday,
and they told me that you had just left for Paris,
I cracked up.
Our timing worked out today.
[exhales] Damnit, I forgot...
Hey. Don't worry about it.
I'm on the Pill now.
[moaning]
- Hey. - Uh-huh?
Um, is it true what you wrote in your letter?
Did you really go to an orgy down there?
Oh, they're not orgies.
They're love-ins.
It's not about sex, it's about love.
[chuckles] You know, I brought you back a snow globe from Paris,
you know, for being such a good researcher.
Oh, well...
I brought you back two.
- [laughs] - For being such a good reporter.
[moaning]
Patti, get up here! Get your girl.
Where's Patti? Finn wants her.
Woman: Patti, Finn wants you.
- [moaning] - Woman: Patti, Finn wants you.
Oh, did you hear that?
- Finn wants me. - What?
[groans]
Finn!
Finn, we got a story here.
That might require professional journalists.
Holy shit, that's Wick. Something's breaking.
[whispering] You're right.
Wick: UPI's got three dead in riot at a music festival
in northern California.
A place called Altamont.
UPI coded "bulletin." Reuters coded "alert."
- What have we got? - It's developing.
Wick: I want you guys to sharpen your pencils.
- Finn: IDs on the victims? - Wick: Not yet.
Nothin' on the injured, either.
Crowd estimates are up to tens of thousands.
Hundreds of thousands.
For Santana, the Jefferson Airplane,
Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young,
and the Grateful Dead. They were scheduled to play
until the Rolling Stones came on at sunset.
Nice of you to stop by. Anything else?
Um, it was originally scheduled for Golden Gate Park,
but then they moved it at the last minute,
and, um, Mick made it free.
The festival was billed as Woodstock West.
Well, shit just went sideways at Woodstock West, everybody.
Where's Jane? Jane!
Finn, you sent me to Woodstock.
Patti's back from six months in San Francisco,
she's got a Rolodex of contacts.
I know Santana's PR girl. Maybe she has some leads.
I'm here. What's happening?
Finn: Anyone else besides Patti
who even knew this concert was happening?
Were the victims connected?
Was this a crime spree or a stampede?
Uh, I'll coordinate the files coming in, and delegate research.
Who's accountable? We'll get it all nailed down better.
If this was, in fact, a riot,
it could have national and social significance. Sam, get started.
- Wait. - What?
Sam's written top flight covers four weeks in a row,
and he and Jane are a good team.
Patti is sourced, I'm fresh.
- Sam is tired from a month... - What I need right now
is the fastest re-write man in the building,
and his efficient researcher.
I can't take a chance in case this merits a cover.
- Cover? - We'll talk about that.
- Sam. - I need a minute, boss.
- That's not fair. - [exhales] Yeah.
Peace and love are back in California.
[sighs] Besides, now we got a free night.
Let's finish what we started.
We can't give up on this story yet.
Sam is Finn's golden boy.
Whatever Finn says goes, it's non-negotiable.
All right, I need a honey to go up to photo,
and give Ned a heads up.
Patti: I'll do it.
- Are you Patti? - Yeah.
Finn said you'd show me the pit.
- Okay. - I'm Nora.
- Hey. - Hey.
Why didn't you get that story?
Because Finn picked Sam and Sam and Jane are a team.
Okay, due diligence mandates we cover a party that got out of hand
while we already got a critical story in Vietnam ready to go.
All right, I want to graphic
on the links between LSD and violence.
Charles Manson was indicted yesterday.
Manson box, how much, Stuart?
As long as we're opening up the whole magazine,
I'd say 500 words.
Okay, gin up a short on the court proceedings.
How was "the great asparagus"?
He's already finished one book,
and he's only been retired for six months.
Damnit, arrogant fuck.
He'd be speaking German right now if it wasn't for us.
Wick, let's head to photo.
All right, get on that.
Who's "the great asparagus"?
Charles de Gaulle.
Hey, you saved me from killing Wick's cover story on Vietnam.
They're reporters, we're researchers.
We report, investigate, and write files for the reporters,
they do a pass on them, put their names on them,
and then the stories go to press.
Nedders, stuff's breaking.
Your cover's fate hangs in the balance.
Yeah, of course it does,
because it's done early and perfectly composed.
Altamont Music Festival in northern California went haywire
and people were killed. It's coming in now.
What?
Ned, any images yet?
Well, we didn't staff the festival.
Well, but the wires did, let's see.
Here.
That's all the east coast papers can run with tonight.
It's shit.
We have, what, 45 hours to get you a better shot
to compose and design?
Yeah. Us and "Rolling Stone."
Wick, what do you think?
Not my kind of story, boss.
Well, it might have to be. We got three people dead.
Look, if Altamont peters out,
Wick's cover on 'Nam is set.
Wick, a word.
We're going head to head with "Rolling Stone"
on a cover that Jan would sell his sister for.
That is a music magazine.
"News of the Week" competes with "Time Magazine."
Everyone younger than you and me reads "Rolling Stone."
Yeah, well, youth is wasted on the young.
- It's not that bad. - It's getting there.
Cindy, this is Nora, the new girl.
- Oh. - Nora Ephron.
Hi.
Cindy likes to hide out back here
ostensibly writing captions.
Mm-hmm. So, who got Altamont?
Sam and Jane.
Another one. What does she need?
We'll find out.
Doug wants to take me to the Rothko retrospective,
at the Guggenheim tomorrow night.
Do I have to wear a tiara?
Yes.
I mean, no. [laughs]
But something fabulously chic.
Oh, gloves. You must wear beautiful calfskin gloves.
Saks has the best gloves.
Also, there's a salon on 86th and Columbus that's open on Sundays.
Anyway,
- can Nora use your desk? - Oh, sure.
All that's left to do now
is to make yourself indispensable.
[giggles]
Can you do cop calls?
Oh, I wish I could. I don't have time.
I have a source that could be valuable.
Then give 'em to me.
It's the PR girl for Santana.
She knows everyone who was at that show.
Fantastic. What's her number?
She's only going to talk to me.
Okay, look, I know you were the more natural fit for this story,
but there's nothing I can do.
Don't sabotage the story.
I'm trying to help.
Okay, take an hour to work your source.
If nothing pans out, you're doing cop calls.
An hour? Jane, you're dreaming.
No, I'm working under a deadline.
Yeah, but this is a really important story,
and if it's gonna be a cover...
No, no, no, I know all about covers.
Sam and I have had four of them in the past month,
and it doesn't involve leaving your reporter high and dry.
But Doug isn't on this story,
and I still want to help you.
I know. So do cop calls.
No!
Patti.
Okay. I'll take the hour.
I can do cop calls.
Have you ever called the precincts?
I ask if there's anything on the blotter, right?
We have two days to tear down and rebuild the magazine
on a developing story over 3,000 miles away.
Orientation's canceled today.
I'll do the cop calls.
What does your reporter need?
I'll find out.
Hi, this is Patti Robinson.
I'm calling to speak with Betty Harris.
Is she available?
Yes, I'll hold.
[indistinct chatter]
[phones ringing]
Uh-huh. You're fucking kidding me.
They deliberated for 20 minutes?
Manson and who El... Hold on.
I think I'm your researcher,
and I'm supposed to help with the story Wick assigned.
I've got it covered.
Go ahead. Manson and who else?
[sighs]
Uh-huh. Can I get a spelling?
[sighs] Now I get why you stay down here.
Mm, cranky reporters in the bull pen?
Testy researchers in the pit.
Hmm.
Do you like working at "News of the Week"?
Mm. Mm-hmm.
For me, it is ideal.
Oh, right, you're not married yet, are you?
See, um, my husband, Lenny,
gave me a year to gather materials for my first novel
while he finishes law school and gets a job at a firm,
probably in Connecticut.
Um, so I chose the magazine.
Um, for me, it's a dream.
And what happens after a year?
I get serious and start a family.
A serious family. Please don't invite me to the dinner parties.
[laughs]
[chuckles]
Why don't you just stay here and get stories?
That's the only way to become a writer.
[clears throat]
Uh, I'm sorry.
Uh. Um, I'm sorry, I'm just...
I'm late for my... you know,
but I always use a diaphragm
so I don't understand how I, um...
Maybe he put a hole in it. People do that, you know.
Lenny?
Oh, he doesn't even know where I keep that thing. I...
Maybe he does.
You don't think that my being a novelist
sounds like a lark?
I don't joke about writing or cooking.
I don't joke about drinking or cooking.
See, we're the perfect duo.
[laughs]
[sighs]
[typing]
[indistinct chatter]
Those of you following along at home,
I have nothing.
And the Jane clock says I have 25 minutes left.
What?
It's like you guys are fighting over
the lower bunk bed in jail.
Who gets the to make the guys who are
writing the story look better?
[man laughing]
[sighs]
You ready, Robinson?
Not yet.
Santana's PR girl gave me the number
for the hotel room
where one of the back up singers is staying,
and I want to talk to her.
There are rumors that the official police account is wrong.
Then get a list of everything the back up singer says
that contradicts the official account,
and turn it over to Jane.
Those will be her leads to follow up on.
Mm-hmm.
So, meet at my place in an hour?
I'll order from Vincenzo's.
[chuckles] And finally replace that scratched Van Morrison.
An hour. I promise.
[phone dialing]
- Oh. - [laughs]
Make it snow.
[laughing]
We're finally in the same city
after months of being pen pals.
God. Maybe we can just...
blow off the Rothko tomorrow night and go out to dinner.
Well, I already told my parents you were coming.
Oh.
Your parents.
I didn't, uh... I didn't know that
they were a part of this event.
It's... it's so conventional.
I mean, I have to kiss the ring
before we can start dating?
You know, I wouldn't mind meeting your parents.
Oh, no. No one's meeting my parents. Ever.
[laughs] See you in an hour.
What are you still doing here?
I'm trying to reach someone on the west coast.
The police report that our stringer read to Jane over the phone
doesn't line up with some of the things
that other people saw,
so I'm trying to get the names of the officers who were there.
Yeah, well, that should be on the bottom of the police report.
On the bottom of the report
the police chief himself signed it,
and I know he wasn't working at the concert.
It's just odd.
Atta girl, Patti.
♪ ♪
Wick: Hey, Tommy.
- Thank you. - Yep.
How's it comin' on that Manson story?
Oh, it's a straight down the middle court story.
Almost done.
Good, good.
Quite a cat fight last night.
Peace ever break out in the pit?
No idea.
Patti was way over invested in getting this cover.
Well, researchers do not get to pick the stories
they want to work on.
That is a slippery slope.
They'll be writing fashion stories all day.
Ha! Patti really took to San Francisco.
Is it true that someone's left a comb on her desk
every morning since she got back?
Looks like she put her finger in a socket.
East coast hazing.
First day back at work, she wore jeans.
Well, she's still an attractive girl.
But like I'd tell my daughters,
no woman looks her best in jeans.
Ah, Wick. You sound like an old man
who doesn't know what's cool anymore.
Heads up.
See, Sam.
Real women never go out of style.
No, coffee's supposed to be black.
You don't put milk in coffee.
- Hello. Good morning. - Miss Robinson.
Oh, I was just coming to find you.
[whispering] So sorry I stood you up last night.
I was working late and I just crashed in the infirmary.
Don't try and soften me up.
Why don't you let me make it up to you.
Hmm? Tonight. 8:00.
Tonight is Rothko with my parents.
Okay. A week ago we were sending each other letters
sprayed with sandalwood oil, man.
What happened?
That was a dream.
You moved back home to New York.
To reality.
I'm young.
I want to have fun, I want to tiptoe through the tulips.
I feel like you're trying to put me in a box.
I'm not.
Is that what you think of getting dolled up
for a night on the town?
I don't have anything to wear.
They're gonna love you.
I already told them how happy you make me.
I'll meet you at the Guggenheim at 8:00.
[chuckles]
Hey, babe.
If you don't change, everyone's gonna think
you came home with me anyway.
People. My people.
Let's commit journalism here.
Award winning journalism.
Comfort the afflicted, afflict the comfortable.
Copy desk, are we over or under for the back of the book?
- Man: We're right on target, Finn. - Finn: Good.
And that's when you saw the first guy fall down
or get pushed down?
[mouthing]
I'm not saying it's shit,
but you might want to take another stab at that lead.
Starting off with a quote won't fly, believe me.
Animal... animal hat?
The Hell's Angel was wearing an animal hat?
Can you approve this caption?
What kind of animal hat?
Since when is Central fucking Highlands a dateline?
Get the nearest city. We don't do regions.
And run it by Wick.
- Okay. - Tell him you showed me.
Talia wanted me to remind you
about Lydia's birthday dinner tonight.
[sighs] Oh, Christ.
I'm nowhere near the editor's page.
I don't suppose you could run out and grab
a birthday gift for a 13 year old girl?
Talia already called in a jewelry box from Tiffany's. I picked it up.
They move people through dinner service quickly at Serendipity.
You'll be off the clock for 90 minutes tops.
A lot can happen here in 90 minutes, Ange. Anything else?
How about you start calling me by my full name?
Nope. That'd take too long.
Jane. Jane. I got it.
My lead panned out.
The back up singer saw everything,
and there's just one hitch.
- What is it? - Not for attribution.
Oh, well, then she's no use to us.
- Jane. - No, don't.
I was here late last night doing cop calls.
- I was here, too. - Where?
I fell asleep.
Because I was waiting on a gigantic lead for you,
and if you would just listen to what I got, you would thank me.
[sighs] Just not here.
Okay, now without yelling at me,
tell me what she said.
The police blame the hippies,
but she blamed the Hell's Angels
that were hired as security.
One of the gang members had a knife, Jane.
They started the riot, not the fans.
So they're hiding something.
Shit.
That's good.
[whispering] I know.
There were 300,000 people there,
but no law enforcement presence whatsoever.
Patti says Alameda County can't produce
the name of even one deputy assigned to the festival.
What?
You're pretty cute when you've got a scoop.
- Oh. - Tell me more.
The Hell's Angels were hired as security.
They were paid in beer, Sam.
But they escalated things instead of controlling them.
Is that for me?
It's what we've got so far.
Oh, yeah, this is good.
I also need the official story from the cops
- on details of the riot. - Oh, you know I've got that.
Good, because we're gonna need something else
in case Wick won't let me use your back up singer off the record.
He's meeting with the department heads for another half hour.
Work on the plan B version of the story until then,
and then you and I go and talk to him.
- [sighs] Okay, great. - Wait, hey.
- Not so fast. - Hmm?
So, Finn wants to have lunch with me.
He wants to talk about putting me on the investigative beat.
He does? That's great.
Yeah, well, four covers in a row? Of course he does.
I am so proud of you.
Hey, as far as I can tell,
you and I are kicking everybody else's ass in the city.
[sighs]
♪ ♪ [Iron Butterfly's "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida"]
♪ In a gadda da vida, honey ♪
♪ Don't you know that I'm lovin' you ♪
♪ In a gadda da vida, baby ♪
All right, who is this?
Oh, it's, um...
It's Iron Butterfly.
- Iron Butterfly. - Mm-hmm.
The song will haunt you
because you have such a good ear for music.
- Do I? - Mm-hmm.
I heard you singing Otis Redding the other morning.
Ah-ha. Well, Redding is in a class by himself.
He's a true original.
Now these guys, these Iron Butterflies,
I may need some time getting used to them.
You should really get high first.
Then you'll really dig it.
Well, I'm over 30. I'm too old to try pot.
Oh, no. No one's too old to smoke out.
That's good to know.
[sighs]
Patti, help me out.
Why were the Hell's Angels hired for security?
Because nobody trusts the police.
Why?
Because they would arrest you for smoking marijuana.
And ever since the cops beat up those kids in Chicago,
everyone thinks they're pigs.
So the bands felt safer hiring an outlaw motorcycle gang.
Yeah.
The Hell's Angels smoke pot and like to party.
They were at Ken Kesey's acid trips.
So?
So they bonded at those parties.
There was a kinship.
Yeah, but doing drugs doesn't necessarily mean
you believe in peace and love.
Well, yes, it does.
Uh, I mean it... did.
It was supposed to.
I guess Altamont changed that.
Yeah.
I'm going to write my editor's page.
♪ ♪
Well, these culture stories,
they're not permission to get lax on journalistic standards.
We need full names.
Can't say I'm surprised at your decision.
Bummed out, but not surprised.
But Patti said her source is still...
Patti? What does Patti have to do with this?
- Patti sounded... - Patti found the source.
[exhales] All right.
Mr. Rosenberg, I hope you're not too bummed out
to write an airtight story for us,
with real sources, authorities, or elected officials.
And then we'll see if the story merits
the cover of the magazine.
- All right? - You got it, Wick.
- Young lady. - Mm-hmm?
Could you get me a cup of coffee?
Absolutely. Black, two sugars?
- Yes. - Okay.
Thank you.
[snapping]
Wick is the one trying to sabotage this
because he wants his stupid cover on troop reduction.
I can get my source to go on the record,
I know I can.
I just can't convince her to do it on the phone.
What are you saying?
Oh, you want to fly to San Francisco tonight,
and get her to go on the record
all before the presses start running tomorrow night?
Yeah. No, no, exactly.
Look, the flight schedules work,
I just... I don't have the money for a ticket.
Can you use your dad's credit card?
You can't be serious.
We're too close to give up now.
Your car is downstairs.
I'm not gonna make it.
The presses start running in 26 hours.
Why don't you head down to Serendipity
and give that gift to Lydia yourself.
- She's gonna be furious. - Furious, yeah.
I'll deal with the consequences.
[exhales]
- Thank you, Ange. - You're welcome, Fineas.
♪ ♪
[traffic noise]
Oh, thank God.
Patti!
Patti.
Oh, good, you got the gloves.
- Yeah. - I'm glad you spent a little extra
for the 11 inch style.
The ones that hit you right at the wrist bone
are the least functional things I have ever...
Nora, what are you doing here?
Oh, Jane sent me.
She wanted me to give you this.
She said it's really important.
Nora, I need you to give a message to Doug for me.
♪ ♪ [Buffalo Springfield's "For What It's Worth"]
♪ Somethin' happenin' here ♪
♪ What it is ain't exactly clear ♪
♪ There's a man with a gun over there ♪
♪ Tellin' me I got to beware ♪
♪ Think it's time we stop ♪
- Doug. - ♪ Children, what's that sound? ♪
Patti can't come.
She went home. Sick.
♪ There's battle lines being drawn ♪
♪ Nobody's right if everybody's wrong ♪
♪ Young people speakin' their minds ♪
♪ Gettin' so much resistance ♪
Man: [on P.A.] Welcome to flight 221
direct to my hometown of San Francisco.
Flying time is six hours and eight minutes.
So get on board for a magic carpet ride.
♪ Hey, what's that sound ♪
♪ Everybody look what's goin' down ♪
♪ You better stop, now, what's that sound? ♪
♪ Everybody look what's goin' down ♪
♪ Stop ♪
♪ ♪
[clattering]
Man: Hey, what's going on in there?
Um, noth... Nothing.
I... I, um... I just dropped my...
brush.
I'm trying to finish my work, Cindy, come on.
I just haven't slept well the last few nights.
I'm...
clumsy.
You didn't eat much dinner.
I ate.
What do you women even do in there?
I'll be out soon.
Hurry up. I want us to watch Ed Sullivan.
♪ ♪ [rock]
I'm telling you, he was no threat to anyone.
And those bikers were kicking him.
They were high as kites.
And one of the Hell's Angels had an animal hat,
or the head of an animal or something?
The Hell's Angels guys were throwing entire beer cans at people.
And the biker with the moustache stabbed that poor guy.
But the Dead bailed.
'Cause they knew those Hell's Angels.
Okay, so you're saying the Dead fled.
[laughs]
Got it. Okay.
I cannot thank you enough for talking to me, Danielle.
I'm just gonna need your full name and your hometown and your age.
No, I don't want anything about me in print.
Like I told you before,
I am gonna read all of your quotes back to you.
No, I don't want my name, age or anything about me in there.
I'm disposable.
I'm a back up singer.
My job is to sweeten the band's sound.
And I do that only as long as I look good and sound good to them.
You dig it?
Yeah, I dig it.
If anyone from a record company
reads that I'm up there with an opinion of my own...
That I'm a narc...
I'll be moppin' floors instead of singing in amphitheaters.
"News of the Week" won't print
anonymous sources, Danielle.
Then my quotes won't be in.
Wait.
Did you talk to anyone on stage afterwards?
No. Up on stage is just me and the boys.
And the groupies who rush them.
Do you think any of them would talk to me?
[ringing]
Any friend of Danielle's is welcome here.
It's been such a rough weekend for all of us.
Danielle did not tell me you were a plaster caster.
[chuckles] The best in all of Haight-Ashbury.
[chuckles] Go ahead, touch 'em.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
Hold them and suck 'em if you want. [chuckles]
Just don't break 'em.
This is a gallery of my conquests.
So sorry, but I have to get on a plane
back to New York in two hours.
How can I support your journey?
Um...
Can you tell me everything you saw
before the fan was stabbed?
And, um, who pulled the knife?
I bet my Jim Morrison it was Mr. Moustache.
What about the animal hat guy?
Oh, he didn't have a knife.
Mr. Moustache stabbed that poor kid.
Do you have his name?
The kid or Mr. Moustache?
Yes. Both.
[phone line ringing]
Jane. Jane.
[phone ringing]
Hello?
Woman: Collect call from Patti Robinson.
Do you accept the charges?
Yes. Yes, yes.
Lucy Henderson.
She goes by the name Juicy Lucy.
I need everything you have on her.
[sighs] What else?
I need the name of two Hell's Angels.
I only know them as
Mr. Moustache and Mr. Animal Head.
See if you can get Oakland P.D. to ID them.
I need to get a taxi and get to the airport,
or I'm gonna miss my flight.
Yes!
[dogs barking]
[laughing]
♪ ♪
[traffic noise]
Is Patti in yet?
Uh, I just brewed a fresh pot of coffee.
Is Patti in, Jane?
I haven't seen her.
What's goin' on?
Not now.
You were right.
I think he put a hole in it.
[sighs]
Could you work here if you were pregnant?
Would they let you?
No one's ever done that before.
Um, it doesn't matter. Lenny would make me stay home.
Okay, I know the best gynecologist in the city.
He's near the park, upper 80s,
and across the street from his office
you can get the most delicious egg salad sandwich...
Oh, um, I've heard it on good authority
that you can sit at Patti's desk today,
'cause she flew to San Francisco.
- Great. - We specifically didn't tell her.
- She's cool. - It's okay.
No one's gonna ask me anything anyway.
Good morning, my whispering coven.
Hi.
Patti's not at her desk and we close today.
- She's sick. - Is she sick?
- Very ill. - Death's door.
Well, I feel like shit and I'm here.
Call her and tell her to come in.
Absolutely, I will.
[brakes squeaking]
- Thank you. - Hi.
What do you know?
You can't go inside dressed like that.
I have clothes. Tell me what you know.
I got the names.
People are devastated out there, Jane.
There's devastation in here, too.
I lied to Finn. He wanted to see you.
And Doug asked for you.
Oh, no. What did you tell him?
Wh...
Shit!
Finn: Ah, shit. Lefty O'Doul died.
Oh, tough loss. I saw DiMaggio play once.
He and Lefty were pretty close. What do we know, Sam?
Detailed eyewitness account from two sources.
Great. What did these guys see?
- The guys are gals. - Who are these gals?
Um, one of theme won't let us use her name.
Wick said that was a no go, so we found another woman
who was in the front row, confirmed everything,
and agreed to be named.
That's good journalism. Atta boy.
- Who's the woman? - [sighs] Patti?
Legally, her name is Lucy Henderson.
What do you mean by legally?
Her professional name is Juicy Lucy.
I majored in History at Princeton.
- Did you know that? - Yes.
One of the things that stuck with me over the years
is what I learned about ancient Roman dentistry.
To treat a toothache, they advocated gargling with urine.
And it was only after prolonged and ineffectual swishing with piss
that an extraction would ultimately be undertaken.
My point is, how much more of this must I endure
before we give up, run wire copy inside,
and use Wick's Vietnam story as a cover?
Oh, come on, Finn. We got a smart, fresh cover.
Fantastic. Juicy Lucy.
Mr. and Mrs. Henderson must be very proud
of their daughter's professional name.
Now, what does Miss Henderson do?
- Sh... - She's, um,
- an artist? - You don't sound convinced.
Um, she's a... she's a sculptor.
Sort of obscure outside of the Bay area.
But, uh, in music circles, she's well known.
Within music circles in the Bay area.
What does Juicy sculpt?
Penises.
She's a plaster caster.
She casts the penises of famous...
rock stars.
Why... why would she do this?
Well, she's not the only one, actually.
There is a woman named Cynthia...
But he asked why, right? Why she casts the men?
I think it's like a trophy
to prove that she's been intimate with these men.
We have a back up singer who won't go on the record,
and a loopy promiscuous woman
who's the back up to the back up singer.
This is a three-ring circus, folks.
But both of their stories support one another.
Wick: Juicy Lucy,
the dick sculptor, is not credible.
Why?
Because no one on the subway
or the entire state of Wisconsin,
can relate to them.
They're not mainstream, honey.
There are our man-on-the-street interviews,
except that they happen to be women with no clout.
[clears throat]
Who's source is she?
Patti's.
Our holy terror.
Hey, look, if it's any reassurance,
it's my byline if we crash and burn.
But it's my magazine.
Yeah.
Let's run with it.
- Sam: Thank you, Finn. - Patti: Thank you, Finn.
Good work, everyone.
Oh, God! I knew I could break this story wide open,
- and I did. - Yeah, for Sam.
He'll get the byline.
What?
You stood me up.
For the second night in a row.
You lied to me so that you could help Sam...
Are you listening to a word I'm saying?
Jetting of to the west coast
to convince a source to talk to me.
That's the most exciting thing I've ever done.
My God, is there a "we" in any of this?
I'm sorry I stood you up.
Twice.
Do you remember when, against all odds,
you convinced the Colonel to talk to you about the Tet Offensive?
And the whole newsroom cheered
when you called in with 1,800 words of dictation
that changed the way people viewed that event.
Last night, I understood how that must have felt.
That rush.
But you're not a reporter.
You're a researcher.
And we had a date.
[door opens]
You turned the ship around.
Yeah. That felt pretty good.
Why did you stay on the story
even after they gave it to Jane?
I don't know.
I just could not let that go, I guess.
For the magazine, For Doug, for Sam?
For work. For me.
We hold consciousness raising meetings
here at this address on Monday nights.
Why don't you come?
I'll introduce you to some fabulous girls
trying to do exactly what you just did.
Yeah. Okay.
See you then.
Consciousness.
Consciousness raising.
Altamont is a different kind of story
than troop withdrawal, Wick.
But no less important.
Well, in terms of sheer numbers,
we lost more young men on Saturday
in the jungles of Vietnam
than we did on the fairgrounds outside of Berkley.
This is, uh, for the culture section,
the back of the book.
No, it's not. [sighs]
'Cause if I'm gonna ensure our relevance,
we gotta cover the story of the counter-culture.
My Lai three weeks ago and last week's anti-war march,
those... those warranted covers.
Anti-war covers.
'Cause the people are shouting it from the rooftops.
They've turned against this war, Wick.
So your Pentagon source concerned that
troop withdrawal will only deepen the quagmire,
that feels dated.
Come on, it wasn't dated three days ago
when we sent it typeset.
That's true.
And then a free love festival exploded.
Because the counter-culture itself is starting a new chapter.
It's a sea change, for Christ's sake.
And Altamont, in my humble opinion,
is the perfect aperture to show that.
Finn, come on, you're jerking yourself off
with some intellectual debate about cultural coverage.
You know it's our duty to cover a war
where families are losing their fathers, their sons, their cousins,
- they're nephews... - Okay, look,
with all due respect to your personal connection to this war...
I am here as a newsman.
Please, do not insult me by making this personal.
[sighs]
Finn. Finn.
The day a story about a music festival
trumps a story about a war we're fighting
is a day that I don't know my fucking ass
from a hole in the ground.
Wick, we've had 14 covers on Vietnam in the past 12 months.
We done.
[door opens]
[door closes]
Nora: I like the flower.
Oh, look, it's for a cover.
I like human eyes.
I put the close up of the heartbroken hippie.
Do you ever put an eye loop on each eye
and walk around the newsroom?
[chuckles] No.
Oh, I read the short story you left me last night.
It was beautiful.
Thank you.
Um, it was, um...
It was the last thing I wrote, actually.
Right after college.
Hey. You okay?
Oh, yeah. No, I just, um...
I just haven't slept much lately.
Did you do my job for me yet?
- Oh, yeah, flower. - Close up hippie.
I left you two choices.
You present me with the same two choices.
It's unacceptable.
- Well... - Oh, I mean, there's the...
- Very clear choice. - clear right answer.
I got an idea.
Why don't you arm wrestle over it?
So boring.
Ouch. Just pretend like you're seriously working.
- [laughing] - I don't want to get fired here, okay?
I actually can't see...
- a goddamn thing. - I love that photo.
Whoever took that photo is a great photographer.
Cindy: Yes!
Oh, my God. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.
Hah!
- Cindy? - Oh, I... I got my period.
Is this the first time?
Oh, uh, no, no.
No, but I got... Ooh! I got it.
Cindy: Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!
Ooh!
All right, everyone.
I want everybody to gather here.
Could everybody gather?
Oh, that's Wick's muster call.
I... I will be out there in a minute. [chuckles]
Wick: This piece hit the bull's eye.
And should be a lesson.
A new kid on our team took what he called
a straight down the middle court story,
and elevated it to a damn good think piece.
"The murders illuminated the free love movement
"with the black light of banality.
"Far from the pernicious threat of Communism overseas,
"we were reminded again this week
"that the United States of America
"remains a dangerous place.
"300 miles from the Los Angeles courtroom
"where Manson and his followers were indicted on Friday,
"a free concert in northern California
"grew into a violent frenzy
"that pitted armed men against one another."
- Nice job. - Thank you.
That was me.
He did write a court story. I re-wrote it.
What?
Girls do not do re-writes.
Why not?
That's simply how we do things here.
We have rules, protocol.
Those rules are dumb.
If copy's good, it's good.
Wick: Young lady,
you might not want to make waves.
Lest we have doubts about our decision to hire you.
But you just said my re-write hit the bull's eye.
That was your word. "Bull's eye."
[phone ringing]
Why is everyone standing around here
like a bunch of carneys?
Huh?
Back to work.
You, too, dear.
Are you gonna run it?
[phone ringing]
I'm gonna have one of my reporters do a pass through.
Why, if you like it as it is?
Sweetheart,
we do not change our modus operandi
for one person.
Now, clearly, you are a very talented...
Clearly, I don't belong here.
This is ridiculous.
I quit.
♪ ♪ [The Zombies' "Time of the Season"]
Well, you're name is all you have in journalism.
So, good luck, Nora Ephron.
Get me a cup of coffee, will ya?
One of you guys empty these ashtrays in here.
It's starting to smell like a fucking gorilla's ass.
♪ In this time ♪
♪ Give it to me easy ♪
♪ And you let me try ♪
♪ With pleasured hands ♪
Cindy: Did you get another job?
No, I just got this one.
Well, where are you gonna go?
Someplace where I can write.
♪ It's the time of the season ♪
♪ For loving ♪
♪ ♪
♪ Ahh ♪
♪ It's the time of the season ♪
♪ When love runs high ♪
♪ In this time, give it to me easy ♪
♪ And let me try ♪
♪ With pleasured hands ♪
♪ To take you in the sun ♪
♪ To promised lands ♪
♪ To show you every one ♪
♪ It's the time ♪
♪ Of the season for loving ♪
Okay.
♪ ♪
Ange, where's that file?
♪ ♪
Never mind.
Woman: Now he asks me to stay late,
and we do it in his office.
But on Friday, I told him I didn't want to anymore.
Woman 2: You're asserting yourself.
I'm sorry, there's no more room.
Oh, uh, Nora told us to come.
Um, Nora who?
We'll find room someplace.
He said if I break up with him,
it will be too distracting for him at work,
and...
Keep going.
Because once you can speak out about the conditions of your life,
then you can ask for change.
We're listening. Right, ladies?
- Yes. - We are.
- We're here for you. - Absolutely.
He said I'd have to leave the company.
But I need this job.
And when I asked if he'd help me find other work,
he got angry.
This girl's having sex with her boss,
and every time he's about to...
you know, he whinnies.
Like a horse.
She would know. She grew up on a horse farm.
What are the chances?
- But that's not true. - No, it's not.
Of course not.
- Baked garlic? - Oh, thank you.
What do you want?
Use that voice of yours. What do you want?
Who is that?
Eleanor Holmes Norton from the ACLU.
Oh...
I want to leave that job.
[all exclaiming]
Woman: That's right. There you go.
See, there's so much support here for you.
- For all of you. - All: Right.
Because when we stand united, ladies,
we can do anything.
[all exclaiming]
- Right? - That's right.
Two better than one,
and ten is definitely better than two.
- [applause] - Woman: Right on, sister, right on!
There are great changes sweeping this country.
And it is so important that you're a part of it.
- Thank you, ladies. - [applause]
I'm Sheera from the Women's Health Collective.
I'm gonna go.
- Oh, okay. - How about this.
Does anyone know what the ideal female orgasm is?
The ideal female orgasm is...
you're own.
[laughter]
Let's get out our compacts.
Time to look at our vulvas.
Do you want to stay?
No.
Oh, I am going to have a lot to say about that.
In about three days.
Wow.
Hey. Ned chose my cover.
- Huh. - By Sam Rosenberg.
You know, maybe it is that
I have been awake for 24 hours.
Or maybe it's Nora quitting,
but somehow everything feels different.
Well, I haven't been up for 24 hours.
Everything is different.
You know, maybe things could change.
[scoffs] At "News of the Week"?
- Yeah. - How?
Maybe we could start something.
No?
Talk to some of the girls?
Two are better than one,
and 10 is better than two.
♪ ♪
Wait, Alex, Alex, before you go on,
let me just... I agree.
Look, Ryan's got a great arm, but he's a kid.
He's got no play...
Oh, no, do I smell like garlic?
Oh, if you do, I do.
Sam: Look, let me tell you who the real star is.
- It's Gil Hodges. - You girls got some catching up to do.
- Hey. - We've been here for hours.
Sam: Robinson.
- Rosenberg. - Hey.
Robinson.
Is there something I'm missing?
How are you mad at me?
I... I'm not mad at you.
I'm frustrated.
- Oh, you're frustrated. - Yes.
Well, I have the worst case of blue balls
in the western hemisphere.
[gasping]
Nora said you looked like a real fox in you tux.
Yeah, I sort of did.
Hey.
- Ooh. - Oh.
Well, to a helluva week. Huh?
Messier than usual.
Yeah, to a helluva week.
Sam: Here's to that.
[glasses clinking]
Woo! Another?
Two are better than one.
Hey, where were you gals tonight?
Oh, uh, um...
We were at a meeting.
What kind of a meeting?
The kind where women take out compacts,
and look at their vaginas.
[clears throat]
Well, I'm gonna need that address immediately.
[laughs] I bet.
♪ Girl we couldn't get much higher ♪
♪ Come on, baby, light my fire ♪
♪ Try to set the night on ♪
♪ Fire, yeah ♪
♪ You know that it would be untrue ♪
♪ You know that I would be a liar ♪
♪ If I was to say to you ♪
♪ Girl, we couldn't get much higher ♪
♪ Come on, baby, light my fire ♪
♪ Try to set the night on fire ♪
[coughing]
♪ Try to set the night on fire ♪
♪ ♪
[song ends]
♪ ♪
Sync and corrections by explosiveskull www.addic7ed.com