Gaslit (2022–…): Season 1, Episode 1 - Will - full transcript

Martha Mitchell struggles to balance the demands of a re-election campaign and her marriage. John Dean's ambition as White House Counsel is tested when he's unknowingly drawn into a re-election campaign conspiracy for Richard Nixon.

Let me be clear.

To truly grasp man's
struggle for power

we must begin in
the prehistoric sea

that dark and merciless void.

It was eons before
the strongest among us

slithered out of
the muck to discover

that the lessons of darkness
would continue on land.

Futility. Toil.

The mass of men spend
their days plowing stones.

But true immortality rests
in a pure and mighty will,

for history isn't written
by the feeble masses,



the pissants

commies, the queers,
and the women.

It is written and rewritten

by soldiers carrying
the banner of kings.

That is what it
means to be strong.

That is what it
means to be American.

That is what it means

to be Nixon.

You know her as one
of the most outspoken

conservatives in Washington.

You've seen her on Rowan
& Martin's Laugh-In

and The Dinah Shore Show.

Ladies and gentlemen,

the wife of the Attorney General



of the United States,

the infamous Mouth of the South,

Martha Mitchell.

Well, welcome, Mrs. Mitchell.

I hope you are ready
to tell the whole truth

and nothing but the truth.

Well, if you're gonna
put me on the stand,

I better have my lawyer present.

Now, Martha,

I have heard the rumor
that your husband was made

the director of the Committee
to Re-elect the President.

Yes. And I am the secret weapon.

I bet you are.

Fuck, she is cheesy.

Martha Mitchell all dressed
up like a holiday ham.

Nice smile, though.

I can dig on that smile.

And a orangutan.

She's an idiot and a lush.

Why are you leaving
all of a sudden?

Stay. We can watch
some Password.

- Oh, yeah?
- Do the thing

- again.
- That sounds nice.

But my boss doesn't
exactly understand

the, uh, finer points
of the long lunch.

Oh, yeah? Who's your boss?

Mm.

That is on a need-to-know basis.

Well, thank you.
It's fascinating.

Oh, hold up.

You work for Nixon?

Oh, you're big-time.
You know, I knew it.

The second I saw this place,
I thought to myself, "Wow.

This guy right here,
he's big-time-plus."

Well, you're the expert.

- Who's your superior?
- What?

Who do you report to
at the White House?

Haldeman? Ehrlichman? Hess?

Colson? At water?
Buchanan? Chapin? Fleming?

You know a lot of people.

Honey, it's my job to network

among other jobs.

At least you're at the Oval.

You could be stuck with those
headless turkeys over at CREEP.

CREEP's the Committee
to Re-elect...

The President. I know
what CREEP stands for.

I actually spend quite a
lot of time over there.

- Yeah.
- Ah.

I used to work for the
guy who was gonna be.

Nixon's new campaign chair.

John-boy? Oh, my God!

You tell him Francesca says hi.

You know John Mitchell too?

Sure I do. He's a dear friend.

Hope he's keeping up with
all that spring cleaning

- over there.
- Wait.

Spring clean... You...

You think h-h-he... Is
he pushing people out?

I didn't say that.

I didn't not say it either.

You are wanted.

You are essential.
You cannot be fired.

A $52 phone call?

Who the fuck is
Martha talking to

at two o'clock in the
morning in Los Angeles?

Uh, Lloyd Shearer at Parade.
That would be my guess.

He's a known subversive leftist.

Cocksucker.

Not sure about that, sir,

but I can pull up his
file if you'd like.

I was explicit with her.

No solo interviews this
close to the election.

Any luck tracking down my wife?

She hasn't returned from
her taping yet, sir.

But I have John
Dean here for you.

Oh, God. Yeah,
send the fucker in.

Dean, you flaxen-haired
dog. How you doing, buddy?

- Yeah, good to see you.
- You take a seat.

- Sir.
- Dean.

You look well.

So, uh, I was told you wanted
to see me about something.

Oh, yes.

Uh, as you know, we're gearing
up for what promises to be

a grueling reelection campaign.

And as such, we are
currently reevaluating

certain select personnel.

"Reevaluating"?

Yeah, that's right.
Hey, tell me something.

Where do you see
yourself in a year?

Where do... in a...

Hmm, that's a... That's
a great question.

Um...

Well, let me start by saying,

I have very much
valued the opportunity

to help implement the
president's vision.

And I would urge you
to remember my loyalty

when considering my
continued service

in whatever capacity that
service might be needed,

uh, going forward

forthwith

in the future.

What the fuck is that
supposed to mean?

I think he thinks this is

some kind of spring-cleaning
situation, sir.

Wait, what?

So you're not recommending
that I be fired?

No. Gosh, no! No.

We brought you in
here because we've uh,

we got a kind of special
opportunity for you.

- Oh.
- Yeah.

Wow. Okay. Um...

I assume you're aware
of the Intelligence Unit

that was set up in the Oval

after this whole
Pentagon Papers fiasco?

Right. The Plumbers.

Yeah, that-that's right.

Uh, there's a CIA reject
named Howard Hunt.

He's the main guy over there.

And they're currently graduating

from rooting out leaks to,
uh, rat-fucking the Democrats.

And there is a desire

to enact a uh, similar operation

on the campaign side of things.

You mean you want to
set up an espionage unit

here, in-inside the
Committee to Re-elect

to spy on the Democrats?

- Oh, heavens, no, no.
- No.

Espionage? That's a... that's...

That's a big...
That's a serious word.

No, we're talking about
simple intelligence gathering.

I see. Um...

Nixon has 19 points on the Dems.

The election is
practically in the bag.

Why would we risk that
kind of legal exposure?

It's not our job to ask why.

If men like us asked why, we
wouldn't have the pyramids.

Swollen wet vaginas.

We are good men.

We are men of integrity.

But we come

from our mothers'
swollen wet vaginas

with flaws.

And a time comes where we
need to employ those flaws

to defeat our enemy.

We must become snakes.

I see, uh...

Well, look.

I'm not sure that it
would be prudent for me

to pursue any

snake behavior for you

at this specific point in time.

Hmm.

Shit.

Well, I'll tell the president.

Sorry, the... the president?

Who the fuck do you
think asked for you?

President Nixon asked for me?

Well, to be clear,

the president would
never involve himself

in anything illegal, but, yes.

It's a damn shame.

We thought maybe you
were one of us, but

you can go.

Diana, get Bob Haldeman for me.

I think I may potentially
know how to charm the snake.

- I think I know a guy.
- You know a guy?

- I know a guy.
- Oh.

Bud Krogh's guy,
Gordon... something.

H-h-he'd be perfect

for an intelligence-gathering
operation of this scope.

He's high logistical savvy,
genius-level IQ, Mensa type.

- Sounds like our type.
- Liddy. Gordon Liddy.

That's his name,
uh, Gordon Liddy.

If you were to hire him,

say, as a general counsel.

I could get him settled in.

Show him the ropes.

And I could answer any

election-compliance
questions that he might have.

He's good, isn't he?
Didn't I say he's good?

Mr. Mitchell?

I have your wife on the phone.

She says she's about to go
into a magazine interview.

Sick... Okay, get the fuck out.

What the two of you
still doing here?

- Yes, sir..
- Go. Go, go.

Uh, thank you. Thank you, sir.

Martha marshmallow.

What's this I hear
about an interview?

Hey, Dean, Dean!

Hold on. One more thing.

We're gonna want, um,
your, uh, Liddy friend

to wrangle up a little
presentation for the group,

just a run-through
of potential...

Martha, you are not listening

intelligence gathering,
you-you know,

- Espionage targets.
- Right.

So, uh, next Thursday
morning? Is that okay?

Next Thursday?

It's a little tight,
I know, but Mitchell,

he's stretched so thin
with the, you know, wife.

I've told you, no
solo interviews

that haven't gone
through the campaign.

- M-Martha, what did I tell you?
- So Thursday?

Hmm, yeah. Oh,
absolutely. No problem.

Terrific. Terrific,
Deano! Fabulous.

Martha?

Martha!

Right there.

Oh, why, thank you, dear.

And could you please get a
martini for Ms. McLendon?

Oh, no. No, thank you.

I-I don't usually drink
with my interview subjects.

Mr. McCord here, he doesn't
drink on the job either.

I don't trust him one bit.

Uh, with a twist.

- Mm-hmm.
- Thank you.

Now, where were we?

Uh, well, I was ask...

Oh, have I shown you my
vases? They're Chinese.

Yes. Uh, I was asking
if there's any truth

to the talk that your
ease with the press

has soured your relationship
with the president.

A vicious rumor.

I am the one who introduced
Dick to my husband.

So there's no concern that
you're overshadowing Nixon?

You make me sound
like an old oak tree.

Would you ask such a
question to Kissinger?

With all due respect,

Kissinger doesn't have
a 76% name recognition

with American families, you do.

Well, someone should
tell that to Pat Nixon.

She has been double-booking
our events to make a point.

Just this week, I had to
reschedule a fundraiser

just to satisfy her
lust for the spotlight.

Right on.

Let's get the vase in the
frame now and the portrait.

This won't be the first time

I've had to be glamorous
under my husband.

Uh, Mrs. Mitchell,
just because I write

for the Ladies' Home
Journal doesn't mean

that this isn't
a real interview.

A couple months ago, you
spoke out against the war.

And I'm wondering
if your husband

or the president has...

Oh, you spoil me.

Look at that. Thank you.

There you are.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Winnie... May I call you Winnie?

- Sure.
- You want to know why

I've made these comments
against the war?

Well, it's because
my own boy, Jay,

is over there in that
godforsaken jungle

fighting for his
life as we speak,

surrounded by men who
are trying to kill him.

Do you know what that's like?

Just constantly worried that
he might not make it home?

Oh, dear.

Who is it for you?

My little brother. He's...

I see.

We are empathetic creatures.

Yes.

Now, some people see
that as a weakness.

But I decided long ago
that I will say how I feel.

And if that does not conform

to the president's
message, so be it.

If that gets me banned
off Air Force One,

I will fly commercial.

So you were banned
from Air Force One?

- Oh, you're good.
- I-I do want to hear that story.

You caught that.

We can get back to the
real questions, but...

Martha?

Where are you?

We're in the sitting room,
cupcake. Put that away.

McCord! Where's McCord?

Yes, sir.

Would you kindly
escort these people

the fuck out of my home?

- Mm-hmm.
- Oh, I'm so sorry.

That's okay.

Thank you for coming.
Thank you for coming.

- Thank you.
- Sorry about this.

No, thank you so much.

Have you gone insane?

I told you, no more
print interviews.

Oh, it's a ladies' magazine.

They were asking me about the
curtains, for Christ's sake.

Oh, I know exactly
what you're doing.

You're just trying to take
the spotlight from Pat Nixon.

I would never. Let me do this.

Do... do you really think
that she, in a million years,

would plan her concert

just to be on the same
night as your party?

It's a fundraiser,

for her husband's
campaign, by the way.

And, yes, I think she
absolutely meant to do it.

Oh, it was a misunderstanding.

The Bay of Pigs was
a misunderstanding.

This is an encroachment.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

I had to reorganize everything.

The caterer, the flowers,

all because you don't
know how to stand up

to your boss' wife.

At least Pat Nixon knows
how to support her husband.

That's not what I heard.

Maybe if she stopped
talking behind my back,

she might find a more fruitful
use for that mouth of hers.

Are you implying
that the first lady

isn't blowing her
husband enough?

What?

No! You're disgusting.

Oh.

She wouldn't know
where to start.

But I do.

I know right where to sta...

Okay, stop it. Stop it.

Don't I?

Stop it, Martha. I'm
really angry this time.

Oh, all right.

I'm sorry.

How can I make it up to you?

That'll be enough.
You can stand down.

Yes, sir.

Mm.

I thought he'd never leave.

- Welcome home.
- Mm.

He should be done with his
call any moment now, Mr. Liddy.

Are you sure you
don't need anything?

No, thank you.

What's your name?

Uh, Linda.

Gordon. I'm so sorry
to keep you waiting.

Great to meet you. Finally
put a face to the name.

You ready? Let's walk.

These pitches always wind me up.

You nervous?

Oh, I don't experience
human neuroses.

I actually feed
off these moments.

There's a wild and manic
energy to them, animal energy.

Hmm.

Ouch. What happened there?

I was sourcing
operational recruits...

Cubans.

I needed to show them that I
am what the Spanish call macho.

So I placed my hand into the...

The short flame of a
candle and held it there

until the room smelled
of roasting flesh.

Only then were they willing
to call me their jefe.

Gentlemen, as you know,

our president faces a
daunting campaign season.

For that reason, I've devised
a plan for covert operations,

the likes of which
our electoral system

has never seen.

I present you.

Operation Gemstone.

The Gemstone,

brilliant, sparkling

impervious.

I have crafted an
integrated strategy

meant to function seamlessly
in enemy territoire.

Phase one...

Operation Quartz.

- A covert manipulation...
- Oh, quartz...

Uh, quartz is
actually a mineral.

Excuse me?

Uh, quartz is
actually a mineral.

It's not a gemsto...

I took a little geology
at uh, Williams,

which I briefly attended.

But I-I just love
rocks. Please proceed.

Operation Quartz

a covert manipulation

of the Democrats' outer circle.

We will round up their
fringe activist leaders

and export them to black sites
deep in the heart of Mexico.

Each capture will slice a
viper from Medusa's crown.

Their leaderless ranks
will wither away.

Is that "export" as in kidnap?

"Forced rendition" is
the optimal descriptor.

Next up.

Operation Ruby...

The blood-red gem of
a duplicitous woman.

The Democrats are
weak, their women cold.

We will secure a pleasure craft

wired for sight and sound

and sailed to the Democratic
National Convention,

where we will capture
their officials

enjoying the company of women
trained in the erotic arts,

some of the finest
in the country.

You want to film...

Democratic officials

on a boat with hookers?

Call it a passion play for
opposition leverage, sir.

Just out of curiosity, how
many of these gemstones

are we going to be
reviewing today?

Eleven. With four subparts.

And, uh, how much is
this all gonna cost?

We're looking at a price point

between $50,000 and
$100,000 apiece.

Right. Just finger math...

That's uh, way over budget,
sir, astonishingly so.

And that will not be
a problem, young man.

Oh, good.

I do hope you gentlemen
have had a chance

to brush up on your
II Corinthians,

because, well

this is where we
get to play God.

My pitches are too ambitious?

Who in the fresh hell
does Mitchell think he is?

You see the way he looked at
me when all was said and done?

Uh, no. I didn't catch that.

I'll tell you, like
a rat at his feet.

It was like vomit. That's
how he looked at me.

You know, t-those guys can be
very indelicate, uh, sometimes.

I wouldn't take it
too-too personally.

And Magruder...
That little pissant.

"Quartz is a mineral."

He's lucky I didn't
snap his spine

right in the fucking room.

Um...

What did you think?

Huh?

Of the pitch, what
did you think?

You can tell me.
I'm... I can take it.

What did I think?
I-I-I-I-I really liked it.

I-I knew it!

I saw your body language
in the room, and I knew...

I knew Dean liked it.

What was your favorite part?

My favorite?

Um, gosh, you know, th...
T-there were a lot of elements.

You know, I loved the...

T-the cheerful font
was very interesting.

I did the font.

- Great, uh...
- I came up with the font.

Yeah, look, let me
pitch you something.

How about you and I never
talk about this ever again,

ideally?

Okay, com padre.

Enough said.

I do. I really like this one.

I think that's nice, dear.

We are in for a night.

You.

Whenever he has on
tails, this happens.

It does. Whenever
you put on your tails

it makes you crazy.

- It's Daddy dancing time.
- Aw...

I need a zip here when
you're done, Fred Astaire.

Yes, ma'am. I think we
can hear mother now.

Shimmy it up.

Ooh.

There it is. Look at that neck.

There's a tiny little hook.

Now, that's a neck. That's

that's a neck I'd like to neck.

I can't get that...

- Lovely.
- Love you.

Pat sure has made a statement
seating us back here.

I can't see a thing.

And, honey, you know
it was no accident.

And now, ladies and gentlemen,

the President and
Mrs. Nixon present

the Ray Conniff Singers.

President Nixon,

stop bombing human beings,

animals, and vegetation.

You go to church on Sundays,

and you pray to Jesus Christ.

If Jesus Christ
were here tonight,

you would not dare
drop another bomb.

Bless the Berrigans and
bless Daniel Ellsberg.

Get her off the stage!

Sorry about that, Mr. President.

Looks like someone needs to
go back to finishing school.

Let's move along, shall we?

Ladies...

Maureen?

Hey, John Dean.

- Hi.
- Hi. I am so sorry I'm late.

That's fine.

It's not some
first-date power move.

You know, things have
been nuts at work...

- You know what? It's Mo.
- Traffic and... what?

You can just call me Mo.

Uh, the dating service
suggested that I use Maureen...

Oh, Mo

'cause I guess they thought
people would make...

- Like the Stooges?
- A Stooges joke.

What? Oh.

So sorry.

You're doing the Stooges...
I didn't... No, I-I remember.

- Good.
- Yes.

- Stooges.
- Um, so...

Hi, hello. How are you know?
Now, I'm gonna give you these.

It's for the, uh, Dijon
Porsche out front.

Now, there's not a
scratch on it right now.

And that's how I want to find
her when I come back, okay?

I'm gonna take special
care of you, okay?

- Mm-hmm.
- Thank you so much.

Your table's ready.

All right. Thank you.

Mele Kalikimaka. That's
the thing to say.

In blood, chained to the door
of County Animal Control,

and I am screaming, "No
more pets have to die!"

I'm sorry.

"No more pets have to die."

And then 20 minutes
later, I, uh...

I find out I-I have
the wrong address,

and I am chained to the
dentist's office next door.

No!

I guess I was a-a young
man with conviction.

So what can I say?

You know, it's embarrassing
to even think about it.

No, no, it's so cute.

You know, I'll be honest, at
the start of the night, I...

I thought I was in real trouble.

Oh. Why is that?

Well, I don't want
to burst your bubble,

but you don't exactly make
the best first impression.

- Are you serious?
- Yeah.

You seemed like you were
gonna be a huge piece of shit.

Oh.

Well, that's funny,
because you kind of seemed

stuck up and weird.

No, I didn't.

You're right.

You seemed great
from the beginning.

So what's a stewardess from L.A.

doing on a-a D.C.
dating service?

I'm doing research.

I'm thinking of
doing some writing.

You want to be a journalist.

- Mm.
- No.

Someone didn't read my
profile too closely.

- Well, I...
- I want to write novels.

- Oh.
- Romantic novels.

Oh?

Stop it. It's nothing smutty.

No, no, no, that's...
That's fantastic.

But, um

why D.C.?

I mean, people come
here for depth...

No, I really like it here.

- You do?
- I-I don't know.

People come here to make
a difference in the world.

- Well...
- It's nice.

I mean, God, I'm not naive.

I know, everybody has
to make compromises.

And, well, you probably know
that better than anyone.

What do you mean by that?

Come on. You know...

I'm... I'm not sure I do.

I mean, um, i-it just
must be difficult

working for a man like that.

A man like what?

A man like Richard Nixon.

He's just a little bit of
a liar, don't you think?

Oh, right.

And you think LBJ was
some kind of Boy Scout?

Well, Nixon really takes
it to a whole other level.

How so?

Uh, the stuff about ending
the war, for one thing.

He's drawn down troop
levels by two thirds

since he's been in office.

I saw on the news he's
increased bombings.

Did the news also mention
that he signed Title IX

or established

the Environmental
Protection Agency?

Wow.

You've really talked yourself
into this, haven't you?

Talked myself into what?

Um...

Maybe this wasn't

the best topic of
conversation to bring up...

- No, no, no, no, no, no..
- We don't have... John...

What about you?
What... what about you?

What about me?

Oh, come on.

Uh...

You're just like all
your liberal friends.

You... you playact like
you want to save the world,

when all you really care
about is finding a guy

with enough bread to
pick up the check.

Hoped you guys saved room
for the Baked Alaska.

I must have been drunk
when I said that.

Now I've got Dick calling me

'cause he's got Kissinger
up his ass again.

I should have said no to Dick

the second he asked me to
come play politics out here.

Should have stayed in New York.
Could have kept my practice.

Hmm. We'd still have
our house Upstate.

Remember when we used to drink

a whole bottle of
blackberry wine

and watch the moon
rise over the bay?

- I miss those nights.
- Mm.

I've got an idea.

Let's catch a flight somewhere,

we'll go to China,
India, New York.

Dick needs me, honey
bear. You know that.

The man's an emotional wreck.

Without me, he wouldn't
get through to November.

Of course. Don't know
what I was thinking.

Hello?

Winnie, honey.

You won't believe
the night I've had,

a protester crashed...

Martha?

The first lady's
miserable social evening.

Jesus, what time is it?

Poor woman. They had to drag
her right off the stage.

How did you get my number?

Of course my husband had to
leave me alone the whole night

'cause he's busy
playing the middleman

in this silly feud

the president's got
going with Henry.

Henry?

As in, like...

Henry Kissinger?

I really shouldn't say.

Father. May I?

Raymond, what are you doing up?

I was having bad dreams again.

Are you okay, Father?

Had a little whoopsie
today at work.

What kind of whoopsie?

Remember when you
were in art class

and Miss Grimmer caught you
eating all the other kids' glue

and all the other
kids laughed at you?

All the other kids laughed
at me today, Raymond.

Sometimes

when the other boys at
school laugh at me...

Mother says I should
make friends with them.

She says there are good ships

and wood ships

and ships that sail the sea,

but the best ships
are friendships.

Linda, would you put in a call

to, uh, ah, Harry
Welch at the FAA?

Have him send us any information

he has on a registered flight
attendant, Maureen Kane.

Oh, and, uh, Liddy
should be here any minute

- for the meeting.
- Uh, Liddy's already here.

He arrived over a half hour ago.

He's already here? Where is he?

Mitchell's office.

- Jesus.
- You want me to go...

I'm so sorry.

Are they in there?

Speak of the devil,
and he doth appear.

What's the matter, Dean?

You look like you
just got caught

butt-fucking your sister.

I don't have a-a sister, sir.

Um.

Are we celebrating something?

Wow, sharp as a tack.
Tell him, Liddy.

I ran into Mr. Mitchell
this morning

on the way into the office, and

I had a few rough ideas for
pared-down operations...

Sketches really.

Ah, don't beat yourself up.

We made some adjustments.

It was all you, Mr. Mitchell.

He helped me come up with
a whole new operation plan.

This man truly knows
his trade craft.

Sir, are you sure
it's wise to be, um

casually discussing illicit
activities in your office?

Teacher's here. Fun's over.

Well, no.

Gordo, fabulous work.

Just, uh, talk to Jeb.

He'll take care of the
logistics with you.

Thank you, sir.

Well, whatever you
told that chowderhead

to get him to drop the
James Bond act, it worked.

Well, I just, uh, showed him
how to be a team player, sir.

Hmm. Tell you what

my wife is doing a
campaign fundraiser

at our house Saturday.

Why don't you come by?

You know? For all
your hard work.

I'd be honored, sir.

And bring a date...
Something nice on the eyes.

Right. Okay.

What the hell?

Go, go, go.

Mo. Hey. I can't believe it.

I was just about to
check in for my flight.

And I was thinking,
what are the odds

I'd run into Mo
Kane at the airport?

And here you are. That is crazy.

Huh, how did you find me?

Well, I just... I saw
you coming up the thing.

- Where's your ticket?
- Excuse me?

You said you were checking
in for your flight.

You should have a ticket.

Oh, right, ticket, um...

That is a very good...

Oh, you know, shoot,
I must have thrown it

in the trash with my food there.

Um, I have to get a new one now.

Do you know the lady?
Maybe you can...

You little psychopath.

What?

Did you call the FAA?

Call the...

No. What? No.

Why would I... Why
would I do that?

To find out my flight schedule

so you could manufacture
a way to bump into me

in the futile hope you
could apologize your way

into a second date.

Has this... has this
happened to you before?

It's a pilot trick.

I have to say, it's never felt
quite so pathetic until now.

Mo. Wait, please.

- John.
- Please.

You seem very nice.

Do you know what it is?
I am looking for a man.

And I can't waste my time
with little boys anymore.

I know I was an asshole
the other night.

- Mm-hmm.
- But, I want to make it up to you.

There's this fundraiser
next weekend,

and everyone who's anyone
in D.C. is gonna be there.

You want to take me to
a Republican fundraiser?

It'll be great material
for your novel.

And besides, we don't
have to talk to anybody.

We can just sit in
the corner all night,

drinking John Mitchell's
scotch, making fun of people...

Um, John Mitchell? Martha
Mitchell's husband?

Yeah. Why? You... you like her?

She's completely insane.

I love her.

So you will go with me?

Um, I'm gonna think about it.

I'm gonna see when the
airline has me back in D.C...

Thursday. I-I mean...

I hope they have you
back on-on Thursday

because that would be, uh...
that would be perfect timing.

Holy shit, man.

- Do you have my number?
- Leave it with the FAA.

- Ahoy!
- Oh! Ha ha!

What the...

Mitchell sent me
down to inform you

he's approved of my plans.

Now, before you
fill your diaper,

you'll be relieved to know
that I've trimmed the budget

to a manageable quarter million.

Hey, well, that's
fantastic news.

That's great.

Uh, only problem is, um

Mitchell doesn't control the
purse strings around here.

I do.

So you're gonna have to
make do with $200,000.

That's... that's all we got.

Do you think this is a joke?

No.

This operation requires

untraceable foreign contractors.

I need at least five Cubans.

Cubans? Well, I mean, how-how
expensive are Cubans these days?

Why-just get cheaper
Cubans. What? Puerto Ricans?

Hmm.

You've never tasted
your own blood.

- Pardon me?
- You haven't. Ah...

I can tell.

You know that?

You don't know the first
thing about passion,

about el sangre de libertad.

But you know who does?

Those magnificent men
you just maligned.

- Yeah.
- They know.

God, I got to tell you,

I-I don't appreciate
your tone, Gordo.

No.

They are freedom
fighters, you fuck!

Please let go of
me, you psychopath.

You prep-school sissies
think that you own the world,

but you don't.

The natural world rejects you.

You taste your blood
now, don't you?

Bean-counting Ivy League fag.

Rough day?

Never thought I'd
encounter a bureaucracy

more stocked with
vipers than the FBI.

A thousand petty tyrannies.

You're a Bureau man?

Five years strong. You?

CIA.

I've always admired Hoover.

They don't make them
like him anymore.

I agree.

Jim McCord.

Liddy, General Counsel.

Liddy

fella who burnt himself
with a candle, right?

Gaius Scaevola would be proud.

Hero of Rome.

Soldier.

Soldier.

Oh, hi.

Great shirt.

Mo, he's here.

Smells good in there.

I, uh, smoked a little grass
myself, back in college.

Hi.

Wow. You...

You look...

Thank you. Anything
for Martha Mitchell.

All right.

Welcome, sir, ma'am.

- For you.
- Oh, thank you.

Cheers.

- Oh, hi. Hey.
- John.

- How's it going?
- Hello. Hi.

You have blood on your hands.

Look who it is. See?
Want to go say hi?

Oh, my God. Yes,
I want to say hi.

- She looks amazing.
- So gorgeous.

I want to get a picture.

Aw.

Excuse me, Mrs. Mitchell.

Uh, my name is John Dean.
I work with your husband.

Oh, Mr. Dean.

Yes, my husband speaks
very highly of you.

Say hello to
Mr. Dean, buttercup.

- Hi.
- Hello.

Hmm. We're working
on her volume.

Who is this vision in blue?

Maureen Kane. It's
an honor to...

I'm j-I'm a huge fan.

Thank you.

May I say the two of you
make a striking couple.

Oh, we're not really...

That's so sweet of
you. Thank you so much.

Thank you. Thank you.

All right, Mrs. Mitchell,
right over here.

Oh. Picture?

Are we getting in? Oh, my...

Thank you.

Mm-hmm.

Enjoy yourselves.
Nice to meet you.

- So nice to meet you.
- Thank you.

- Hmm?
- Hmm.

Okay, who are they,
the buzz cuts?

Oh, that?

Uh, that's the president's
chief of staff.

On the right, Bob Haldeman.

Okay.

On the left is John Ehrlichman.

And nobody gets to Nixon
except through them.

They call them the Berlin Wall.

Hmm.

- The Berlin Wall, huh?
- Mm.

Hmm. Hmm.

Wait, where you going?

Mo. No. Mo. Mo. Mo, Mo.

Now McGovern's got James
Taylor and Barbra Streisand

stumping for him,

as if the voters are
going to be swayed

by a couple of moderately
fuckable socialists.

I'm a big Streisand fan.
What's wrong with her?

- Excuse me?
- Uh

sorry, you-you are?

I'm Mo Kane. I think
you know my date.

John Dean, sir.

I got a haircut.

Yes, that's it. Right.

My apologies if John
caused any offense

with the Streisand thing, ma'am.

Oh, God. Hey, as a-a
member in good standing

of the league of moderately
fuckable socialists,

I accept your apology.

Where did you find
this one, Dean?

She's a live one.

Uh, by the way, Bob, I've
been meaning to, uh, thank you

for conveying that message
from POTUS on my behalf.

Mitchell told me about the,
uh, president's request

that I come help with the
election compliance operations

over at CREEP.

Oh, uh, I'm... I'm sorry.

I've never spoken about
you with the president

or really anyone
else for that matter.

Word of advice

learn to recognize a
snake when you see one.

Hmm.

Oh, God. John, this
party is crazy.

Ehrlichman is a fascist.

He wants to nuke all of Asia.
Everyone's so evil here.

I'm having so much
fun. What's wrong?

- You okay?
- It's nothing. We should go.

No, we just got here.

I'll get our coats.

Oh, okay.

Uh, sir, Kissinger's
office just called.

They've been trying to
reach you for the past hour.

In regards to what?

Apparently your wife spoke out

about some sort of feud he's
having with the president.

What the fuck?

Martha.

God as my witness, woman,

I will cancel your
Diners Club card

if you don't open
this door right now.

What? What do you want?

You want to berate me
in front of our guests?

Oh, fuck me! Jesus!

Ah.

I mean...

Sorry.

- Are you okay?
- I hate this stupid dress.

My mom had it made for me.

I look like Little Bo Peep.

You want a Doublemint?

No, thanks.

Cigarette?

It's just an interview,
for God's sake.

It's not the end of the world.

You had to mention Kissinger,
like I need more enemies.

"Martha Mitchell bares all."

Is this some kind of
retribution for the other night

'cause I didn't
just drop everything

and whisk Martha off
to some foreign land

or wherever the fuck?

Yeah. So you... you do
know I have feelings.

You just choose to ignore them.

I see. I'm sure if he
asked to go on vacation,

you'd have your bags
packed in one hour.

He's my boss.

He's your life.

You roll over for
him day and night.

- My God. My God.
- What is the draw, really?

- Tell me. The subservience...
- That's enough.

Is it that he makes you
feel like a big man,

- makes you feel wanted?
- That's enough, Martha.

I mean, your dick
must look so big

in his tiny hands.

Look, let's just
both take a breath.

You take a fucking breath.

My mama slaps me
harder than that.

You're a... you're a pig!

All day...

Nobody cares what you think!

They used to like each
other before we moved here.

Now everything's just terrible.

I hate parties. I hate
all of these people.

How old are you?

Eleven and a half.

What you need is
an exit strategy.

You can petition for
emancipation at 16.

Seems a little extreme.

And that isn't?

Do you have a business card?

I will represent you pro bono.

I'd get started now,

but, uh, I'm a little
busy with the president.

My mom says Nixon's dog shit.

Honestly, I wouldn't know.

I've never even met the guy.

Bye.

- You ready?
- Yeah.

The election is in eight
fucking months, Martha.

You can just keep your
mouth shut for eight months,

we'll be fine.

Get another wife if
you want a silent one

or marry that portrait
I had made for you,

which you never thanked
me for, by the way.

You want to know
the truth, Martha?

There's no conspiracy
against you.

There's no collusion
hiding in the shadows.

People just don't like you.

That's why we can't
fly on Air Force One.

Oh, and those journalists

that you call in the
middle of night...

They're not your friends.

They just can't take their
eyes off a good show.

Bob Haldeman sees my
name on six memos a day.

Has no fucking idea who I am.

Oh, important people
are only as important

as the rest of us make them.

Just don't give them that power.

You're very wise.

You sound surprised.

These fucking people.

I think it's a good thing
you're not like those people.

You're better than them.

- You barely know me.
- That is true.

But I do know you
well enough to know

that you're a good
person deep down,

even when no one's watching.

But then I also know
that you used the FAA

to find out my flight schedule,
which is a huge red flag,

but it did show
uncanny initiative.

Oh...

And I know your dirty secret.

In the moments when you shut up,

you actually know how to listen.

- Wait, I know how to shut up.
- Stop talking.

- Wha...
- Stop fucking talking.

I'm stopping.

Which one's your house?

Met a young couple tonight.

Reminded me of a long time ago

being at the beginning
of something.

I'm sorry, I didn't know
anybody was out here.

That's quite all right.

Would you happen to
have a cigarette?

Thank you.

I hope I'm not out of line
here, Mrs. Mitchell, but...

I wanted to tell you that I read

your Ladies' Home
Journal interview.

There aren't many honest
people left in this town.

I believe you're one of them.

Well, thank you.

McCord, wasn't it?

Yes, ma'am, James McCord.

I appreciate you, James McCord.

Ma'am.

Mmm.

Mmm.

Mmm.

Fetch the sugar for
me, would you, dear?

California?

We got a couple of
fundraisers out there.

I thought it'd give you a chance

to try on that new
swimsuit of yours.

The one with the cutouts?

I don't know if that's
appropriate for a public beach.

Well

maybe you and I could find

something a bit more

secluded.

I want to go to boarding school.

You know, John,

whatever it is
they're making you do

you don't have to do it.

Just saying you
always have a choice.

Oh, I'm sorry. Mr. Mitchell's
out for the day.

Oh...

But you can leave that on
his desk if you'd like.

Right.

Mr. Mitchell's office.

Mr. Dean,

uh, I can hold on
to that if you want.

Give it to Mr. Mitchell
personally when he comes in.

Don't worry about the letter.

It was a false alarm.

The names of great men

are etched in the
halls of power...

I'll see myself out.

Napoleon, Alexander,
Charlemagne.

But who will tell our
stories when we're gone?

Who will sing our songs?

For not all men who change
the world are remembered.

Most are lost like
embers in a fire.

Some worship at
the boot of power,

weak against the tide
of human frailty.

I know your spot right there.

Others are born to be forgotten,

reaching for a greatness
they can never fully grasp.

There she is, machos

our destiny.

¿Qué es eso?

El Watergate.

But make no mistake

a triumphant will
is what binds us

to those creatures from
the prehistoric sea.

And with it, we can alter
the course of human history.

Ow!