01x09 - Dateline

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Good Girls Revolt".Aired: November 2015 to October 2016.
"Good Girls Revolt" is set in the late 1960s, and is inspired by the book, "The Good Girls Revolt". The series tracks three women at an American news magazine who seek equality in the workplace.
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01x09 - Dateline

Post by bunniefuu »

♪♪ [jazz]


♪ Ohh ♪
♪ Now I don't hardly know her ♪
♪ But I think I could love her ♪
♪ Crimson and clover ♪
♪ Ah ♪
♪ Would you come walking over? ♪
♪ Now, I've been waiting to show her ♪


Hi, Cindy. It's Jane Hollander.

Very well. And you?

♪ Over and over ♪

I was just thinking about those meetings you were telling me about.

I remember telling my friend in the fourth grade that my parents weren't in love.

How did you come to that conclusion?

I don't know. I just felt it.

They never fought.

They just didn't talk, really.

Dad went to work. Mom did Mom stuff.

Dad watched wrestling on TV.

Mom would get the neighbor on the phone and talk for hours.

They just didn't talk to each other.


I don't remember my parents talking to each other much, either.

I remember, uh, we would get home from school, and my mom would be laying on the couch asleep with a newspaper over her face.

Um, and she would get up and fix us dinner, and we were always too scared to tell her that there would be newspaper ink all over her face.


Then after dinner, she would lay back down on the couch and put the paper back on her face.

Sounds like she was exhausted.


I was scared of my mom.

And now I've turned into her.

I can relate to that.


Sometimes I scream at the kids, like she used to, to us.

I try and figure out why am I doing that.

But then I look at them, and I think...

I didn't choose you.

I love you, but I didn't choose you.

When he looks at me, all he sees is a chicken-fried steak and a wet hole to squirt himself into.

Woman: Do I know the feeling.

I am so glad that you decided to come.

What do you... What do you think?

It's interesting.

Do you think that you'll come back?

If I get to write this article for the magazine, I'll need to come back, interview some of these ladies.

And, uh, and you really think that Gregory is gonna give you a chance to write an article?

I think he's considering it.

Well, that's great for you.


Do you mind if I bum a smoke?

Yeah, sure. Here you go.

[woman screams]

I thought it was an earthquake.

I could see the smoke from Midtown.

My windows were shaking.




Good morning.

It wasn't a gas leak?

That's what they thought at first, but then the cops found dynamite and fragments from what looked like a homemade b*mb.

So not a gas leak.


That's the thinking, but no one can figure out the target.

How many d*ad?

At least two. But...


But they're still collecting body parts.

Nobody knows how many people were in there.

But at least two are d*ad.

They found three hands.

Dustin Hoffman lives next door.

Shares a wall with the house.

A b*mb seems advanced for a crazed fan.

Or somebody who didn't like The Graduate.

Who didn't like The Graduate?

I didn't like The Graduate.

Oh, really?

What didn't you like?

I thought it was pretentious, a male fantasy masked as a symbol of student revolt.

I didn't buy it.

Fair enough.

See what you can get confirmed for this week's issue.

Find out who owned the building.

Somebody with money.

It's the nicest block in the Village.

And find out who lived there and who wanted who d*ad.

Headed there now.


Put your tie on.

You represent me out there, and I'm a dapper son of a bitch.

Yes, sir.



Send Gabe up, will you? I've got a sidebar for him.


We're immortal now, you and me.

I'm proud of you, man.

Hey, Noah, your smile could be a touch smilier.

Is that a smile or a grimace?

It's my smile.

Worry about yourself, Sam.

You look like you're trying to pinch a loaf.

All right, just snap your little pictures.

Jane, why don't you scoot up here?

Maybe a pretty blonde will get him to smile.



I might have to give you a shared photo credit on this one.





Angie, are you okay?

I'm fine. Thank you.

[door latch rattles]

Damn it. I'm locked in here.

Uh, why don't you lay down on the couch?

And I'll get you a towel for your forehead.

I'm afraid if I lie down I'll get nauseous again.

Do you have a fever?

Angie, are you drinking Tansy oil?

How can you tell?

Your pupils.

I can't be away from Finn and Gregory's phones this long.



How much have you had?

I started last night.

I was told to put it in tea and drink it every three hours.

How far along are you?

I'm two weeks late.

But I know I'm pregnant.

Two weeks... That could just be...

I've got three kids.

I know.

I'm... I'm s... I'm sorry.

I thought that Vera was your only child.

I can't have a fourth one.

I just can't.

We are so strapped.

It's my fault.

At Frank's birthday, I had too many gin and tonics.

Does he know?

The Tansy tea doesn't always work.

And it can damage the baby.

I don't have a lot of options.

[phone rings]

Office of Finneas Woodhouse. This is Angie.


Of course.


A couple hundred words should be fine.

Atta girl, Jane.

The local angle is what I want to play more.


So, Jane, what do you think?


Or yes?

I think...


Yes? Hmm?

Or yes?

The first ones.




I guess these are a little too Elvis-on-stage, huh?

I've got a girl at Saks who lets me test drive the trends.


Jane, sit down, please.

You're just a big brain in a pretty little package, aren't you?

I talked to Finn about your idea about an article on the bra burners.

Oh, well, it wouldn't exactly be just...

I know, I know. The whole thing: the women's march, wives refusing to cook dinner for their husbands, Gloria Steinem, Phyllis Schlafly, my mother.

Who's your mother?

[chuckle] I'm kidding.



Anyway, it's great.


We love it.

It's relevant. Time isn't covering it.

You know. Newsweek did a cover story called "Women in Revolt."

Did big numbers for them.

Over 50% of our readers are women. Did you know that?

I did. I did know that.

So the question is, who are we gonna get to write the damn thing?

Because we think you're right.

A man's byline, it just makes the whole story feel disingenuous.

So Finn reached out to Ruth Penney.

She writes for Business Week.


Business Week, Good Housekeeping.

Oh. Okay.

Well, I'm glad it's getting written.

Thanks to you.

I told her that if she needs any help with research, I've got the girl. Hmm?

This is her number.

I want you to call her, introduce yourself, see if you can help.

Thank you.

Keep those juices flowing Jane.

Any time that you have an idea that you want to share, you come see me. Hmm?

You're very special.

Use your own trash can, please.

What's the square footage?

Wow, that must be nice.

And how many units in the building can Mr. Wilkerson rent out?

Okay, thank you so much.

Of course a woman from outside the magazine has more experience.

How are we supposed to get experience from inside this magazine?

I cannot believe you pitched an article about the women's movement.

I told you I was writing that article.

I know. I just thought...

You thought you'd undercut me and steal my article. That's what you thought.

No. It wasn't like that.

I was with Gregory, and... it just happened.

It just happened?

Okay, I don't know what's going on here, but, Patti, what if a female writer on a cover piece hurts our EEOC complaint, even if she's not from inside?

I don't know. We'll have to ask Eleanor that.

Who's that?

She's our lawyer.

I'll ask her.

Are you saying?

I'm in.

Jane. That's great.

It is great.

Oh, God!

Oh, it's just you.

Girls, Jane is in.

We're out.


No, you're not.

Why are you out?

Naomi was talking to Eleanor...

Why was Naomi talking to Eleanor?

She needed legal advice about something else.

But then they started talking about the complaint, and Eleanor said now that we've reached critical mass, she's going to start planning the press conference.

She never said anything about a press conference.

Why a press conference?


She wants to turn us into a public spectacle.

Our picture would be taken, and our names will be in the paper.

We didn't know this would be so public.

We're supposed to cover the news, not make the news.

So Naomi is out, too?

And Diane.

Look, maybe if another magazine ends up suing and winning, then things will change for us, too.

We won't have to risk as much.

Anyway, busy day.

What firm is your lawyer with?


How much do you know about her?

She's wonderful normally.

I... I would consider her a friend.

Um, uh, she's, uh, she's pregnant.

Uh, she's black.

We met her at a consciousness raising meeting.

How long has she been practicing law?

Where did she get her degree?


How many cases has she tried?


Just a list of the b*mb over the past three years.

Just in New York or...

Just in New York.

I thought of you. Don't you live in the Village?

I do.

I do live in the Village.

Felt like a g*n going off in my apartment, but it was about eight blocks away.

I actually thought of you, too.


I remember you saying you were a chocolate person.

Or that you like chocolates.

Thank you. That's so very nice.

I'll get on this.

He keeps wanting me to make calls.

If he can't handle a friendly dinner party, then what kind of job can I recommend him for?

Well, don't give up. He's a friend.

He's a source.

Okay, let's get going.

See if the pouch from D.C. has arrived.

Mike sent me some freeze dried ice cream from the Air and Space Museum.

New flavor. Mint chocolate chip.

Want to try some?

No, thanks. I'll see you later?




I was wondering if I could talk to you about your conversation about a certain press conference.

So you're part of it now?

I was hoping to be, but I heard a lot of girls are dropping out, like you, and I wanted to hear your side.

Look, I have bigger things going on.

Like what?

Like personal life things.

Like what?

Is your son okay?

Is your husband okay?

I'm about to lose our apartment, and the bank won't let me refinance without Brian's signature.

Well, obviously they know he's overseas.

Still need an authorization form.

And I keep sending it, but the truck carrying the mail to the base got bl*wn up twice.

They can't keep you out of your home because you can't get a piece of paper signed.

They definitely can.

Well, let's do something about it, then.


Because that's not right.


Hi, Ned.

Hey. How's it going?

Um, I just, uh, brought you these captions.

Great. Thanks.


Look at this Qaddafi guy.

What a bozo.

It's like he saw the movie Bullitt and said to himself, "I'm gonna be the Steve McQueen of Northern Africa."

Um... Alex's girl left, so I volunteered to be his researcher.

That's probably for the best.

Uh... Kathy has offered to take over captions, if that's okay with you.

Yeah. Kathy'll be fine.

I think she'll be good.

Well, uh... goodbye.


I'll probably see you at the vending machines in a little while.


Reporting for duty, if you'll have me.

[door closes]

Sam: Joe.

Joe, I've got a...


Uh, yeah, I'm still here.

Are you...

Look, I've got a favor to ask.

We need you to...

[chuckle] Don't worry. I'll check.


That's how you always got yourself into trouble, my friend.

Look, here's the situation.

We need you to type up a...

Financial letter...

Financial letter of authorization.

And get it signed by one of our boys in the field.

He's with the...

1st Infantry Division.

1st Infantry Division. Brian Barclay.

What's that?

The Big Red One?

Yeah. That's him.

Yes, that's it.
Jane's here. She's gonna give you the details.

Hollander. Yes. You remember her?



She still is, yep.

Sorry, bud. We're on a deadline here.

I'm putting Jane on the phone right now.

Oh, hi, there, Joe.

Oh, you, too.

Ah, that's so sweet.

Listen, I'm going to dictate to you. Are you ready?

Mr. Henry J. Livingston.

I've had my studio here for, oh, I don't know, five or six years now, and nothing like this has ever happened.

So yeah, I ran out to see what was going on.

And you say you saw two girls, one of them was naked?

She had a towel around her and a shower cap on.

What about the other girl?

She was in a nightgown, very ratty.

Must have been sleeping.

Did you speak to them?

Yeah. I told them they can't just run down the street like that, even if it is the Village.

Had you seen these two before?

How old were they? Can you describe them for me?

20s. The one in the nightshirt was shorter.

Had brown hair, great face, exotic-looking.

Very Lupe Velez, you know?

Lupe Velez.

You don't know who that is, do you?

Oh, uh, on a scale of 1 to 10, how important is it that I know?

Oh, you kids. Just write "high cheekbones."

Whoa, Robinson, tap the brakes.


What do we know?

The owner of the building is paying utility bills on the apartment, and the phone is in his name, but he doesn't live there.

Maybe it's the super or a pied à terre?

It's not the super.

The super lives around the corner.

Excuse me.

What do you have?

A great white shark att*cked a family on the beach in Queensland.

I love Australia. Hate the sharks.

You ever been?

I don't even have a passport.


You must get a passport.


Hey, there.


[phone rings]

Patti Robinson.

It's me.

So the police are trying to track down two half-dressed women who were seen running out of the building after the expl*si*n.

Brown hair? Brown eyes? Mid 20s?

High cheekbones like Lupe Velez.

Like who?

Oh, good. You're as ignorant as I am.

Do we know who she is?

My guess, Cathlyn Platt Wilkerson.

Her father James Wilkerson owns the building.

She's been arrested four times for protests.

She was SDS at Swarthmore, but that wasn't radical enough for her, so she and some friends joined a group to overthrow the government.

Wait, she blew up her dad's building?

Maybe not on purpose.


b*mb-making accident.

Good work, partner.

Likewise, partner.

See if you can find out who Cathy lived with.

I'd bet the roommate's the other half-dressed girl.

On it.


I want to talk to you about your friend.

Did you know the last time she held a press conference was when she represented the KKK?

I did not know that.

The KKK?

Is she our lawyer, or is she a carnival barker?

It is definitely one of the questions on our list.

We're going to go see her.

Can you come with us?

Doug really needs me on this story.

It's a b*mb, and it's a couple subway stops from here.

I mean... [sigh]... Cindy, can't we go later in the week?

I think if we're doing this, we should try to move it forward as quickly as possible, before we lose more girls, especially if we have to hire a new lawyer.

She's right. I'll, um... I'll get my coat.

Patti, I want you to know I wasn't trying to steal your story.

Did the idea of pitching a story about feminism even occur to you before you heard about our complaint?

There are millions of stories to tell about the women's movement.

Yeah. Well, it doesn't matter now.

Neither one of us is gonna be writing the story for News of the Week.

My job is defending the First Amendment.

So if the KKK gets to speak their mind, everybody does.

Well, I guess that you don't have to be friends with all of your clients.

What I do has nothing to do with friendship, Cindy.

We aren't comfortable with the press conference.

Excuse me?

We agreed to file, but going out in front of news cameras isn't working for us.


All right.

No press conference.


Thank you.


In fact, let's not file the complaint at all.

Let's just tell our closest friends about something we almost did once.

We aren't the ones changing the terms here.

This was supposed to be a filing.

[sigh] Ahem.

Do you know the name Claudette Colvin?

In March of '55, a white girl boarded a city bus in Montgomery, Alabama.

The bus driver ordered a n*gro woman, Claudette Colvin, to give up her seat to the white girl.

Claudette said no, on account of her Constitutional rights.

And before she knew it, she was being dragged from that bus by force by the Montgomery police.

That was nine months before Rosa Parks did the same thing.

So why doesn't anybody talk about her?

Because to some, Claudette was too young, too outspoken, and frankly too dark-skinned to be the poster child of the national movement at that point in our history.

If the NAACP was going to put forward a test case, they needed someone who was well-spoken but respectful.

They needed someone middle class, not poor.

They needed someone attractive.

You look around, and there's plenty of angry women, and nobody's listening.

But people will listen to you.

You're the crème de la crème.

When women like you get angry, that's when you know something's really, really wrong.

So we're your test case.

You want people to see us.

Yes. And hear you and do right by you.

Now, I'm sorry if you feel misled, but I didn't take this case just to change your lives for the better.

I took this case to make some damn noise and change the world.

If we want to make noise, we should hold the press conference on March 23rd.

Why is that?

Because News of the Week will be publishing an article examining the Women's Movement but written by a woman who is not a regular employee at News of the Week.

Ha ha!

Jane Hollander, where have you been all my life?

Now we just have to get the rest of the girls back on board.

I'll do it. My contribution as the latecomer.

That's very good of you, Jane.

And I've got these, too.


Oh. And take this for....

Oh. Yes. Thank you.

Have you read it?

Oh. Yeah.

And which man in your life did you think about when you read it?


You really love both of them?

It's more than...



Some things should not be said out loud.

Well, now I really want to know.

Since I read it, I keep fantasizing that they're dying.

You know, sometimes it's Lenny, and sometimes it's Ned.

And I fret over them, and I care for them while they grow sicker, and we say such sweet things to each other, but then they're gone.

And I'm just free.

Don't worry. I'm not going to k*ll anybody or anything.

Sometimes I imagine getting a phone call that both my parents d*ed in a car accident.


Look who has a dark side, too.

I don't want that...

No, of course. I don't want my thing, either.

But sometimes my dad can be such an assh*le.

How so?

So many ways.

He had a girlfriend.

For years.


My brother and I knew about her.

And my mother knew about her.

And sometimes I would hear them arguing about her.

But then my mom just accepted it.

And one day I asked her why, and she said...

"What do I care?

It makes my life easier."



Good morning.

Mm. Oh.

I must have terrible morning breath.


Thanks for pulling an all-nighter.

That's okay.

My own bed is only slightly more comfortable than this table.

You ready?


I have toothpaste in my desk.

♪ Sunshine, go away today ♪
♪ I don't feel much like dancin' ♪
♪ Some man's gone who's tried to run my life ♪
♪ I don't know what he's askin' ♪

Thank you.

♪ He tells me I'd better get in line ♪
♪ I can't hear what he's sayin' ♪
♪ When I grow up, I'm gonna make it mine ♪
♪ These ain't dues I've been payin' ♪

Fran, may I speak to you in the ladies' room for a moment?

Of course.

♪ How much does it cost? ♪
♪ I'll buy it ♪

They formed a more radical group called the Weather Underground.

They say they want to overthrow the United States government.

At least they're not ambitious. How big are they?

Six of them were in the house, but there's hundreds of them all over.

They're responsible for the demonstrations in Chicago last October.

"Days of Rage," they called it.

It's a real smorgasbord of antiestablishment ideas.

Black power, anti-w*r, liberation theology.

They like to quote Lenin.

Charming. So modern-day revolutionaries.

Hardly. They're mostly rich kids.

Professional parents.

Private schools. Good colleges.

Rich kids can't be agents of change?

Revolutions are supposed to be against the power structure.

They're a part of it.

That's the story.

Everybody's going to have the details on the b*mb.

You have another 24 hours to unpack the bourgeois kids angle. Yes?




Thank you.

Any time.



Not savory?

So let's just keep our fingers crossed.


Yeah? All right.

They did it. They found him. They got it signed.

Letter of authorization boarded a plane in Saigon this morning.

Should be here no later than 10:00 tonight.

Thank you. Thank you.

Sure thing.

I'll call a messenger to meet the plane as soon as it lands.

Okay. Don't let the plane crash.

It won't.

Ralph's looking for you.



Where's your smile, pretty girl?

Is that all?

So, ladies, I understand that I'm a little late to the party, but I wanted to tell you all why I don't just think we should file this complaint.

I think we have to file it.

I call it the Jangle.


It takes me an hour and 15 minutes to get ready for work every morning.

And sometimes I think about how much earlier I have to start my day than the guys.


But what if one morning I get up and the power is out in my building and I can't curl my hair?


Or see to put on my makeup.

[chuckle] Oh, the horror.


Why, then, do I feel embarrassed to ask my reporter what he needs?

Why do I feel like I've already failed at my job?

Angie: I'll let him know as soon as he returns.

No problem.

All right. Thank you.

I can't thank you enough.

It was all of us.

We'll just say at time of printing there were three confirmed fatalities.

Did you know that Ted Gold was in the Stamp Club at Stuyvesant?

He went from collecting stamps to making pipe b*mb.

I wonder where those girls are right now.

Probably in some motel room cracking open a bottle of hair dye.

You can't just dress yourself up in a cause because you like being seen as a revolutionary.

They were doing more than playing dress-up. They leveled a building.

Their cause might not make as much sense to you as the Black Panthers or the Nuyoricans, but they've got something in common.


They're fed up.

[doorbell buzzes]

I'm so nervous, I feel like I could pass out.

It's a nice neighborhood.


Hi. Come on in.

I just need to finish dinner and wash up.

He's very good.

I, uh, I never had any problems after.


I like watching you work.

You're tired.

Tell you what.

Give me another half hour, and we'll go to my place.

I'll make you some French toast.

Do you like French toast?

How do I not know if you like French Toast?

That sounds really good, but I think, if you don't need me, I'm going to head out, catch up on sleep in my own crappy bed.


I'll see you tomorrow.

Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow.

We're not in a rush.

Drive carefully, please.

Cindy, can I ask you something?

Of course.

What have you girls been up to?

That day by the copier. And I see you meet in the bathroom.

We're suing the magazine... for the right to be reporters.

It's illegal that they tell us we can only work in the pit.


What did you get?

Just a harmless Twinkie.

Want one?


Thank you.

You want to hear something ironic?


We paid for it with my money.

We used my inheritance from my grandma for the down payment.

Then the bank would only put the mortgage in Brian's name.

[chuckle, sigh]

I know where your name would count.


Yeah. I'm in.



[elevator door dings]

[gasp] Oh.

Hello, there.


Hi, there.

I'm, uh, looking for the transport desk.

We're the transport desk. I'll take that.

And I'll take this.

Sign right there.

Thank you.


[gasp] Oh, my goodness.

That envelope looks like it fought for our country.

This is it. Look there.

It's where he signed it.

His hand must have been dirty.



Don't you know it's dangerous to walk alone?

They're bl*wing shit up around here.

Yeah, I read about that.

Get in.

No. I like the fresh air, so...


Smells like garbage.

Raymond, Perry and West 4th Street, please.


So I didn't make it to the club the other night.

How was it?


And, uh... all encompassing.

But I don't think I learned anything new about jazz.

What do you suppose would have happened if I had shown up?

We would have talked about music.


You would have ordered a scotch.

I would have ordered... beer and some wings.

You would have offered to expense it.

Well, I'm good like that.

At some point I would have gone to the ladies' room and realized I had barbecue sauce on my face.

That sounds like a delightful night.

Yeah, you missed out.

Patti, I want to apologize for standing you up.


You know, my, uh, my oldest daughter Lydia, she always got her nose buried in a book.

Likes to make believe she's from another time and place.

Called me a foul-mouthed hooligan the other day.

My youngest, she's a sponge.

Takes in everything around her.

Always asking questions. "Why, Dad?" "Why and how?"

She's sharp as a tack.

She's kind of a Patti Robinson type.

I shouldn't have given you that ticket.

That was inappropriate.

I just... Ah...

I like talking to you.

I like how you think.

I admire it.

That's good.

Because I'll tell you, I want to be a guy that Patti Robinson admires.

And it wasn't wrong of you to offer me that ticket.

It was wrong of me to take it.

Then why did you?

I'm not a saint.

Uh, for the record... I hoped you weren't a saint.
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