All language subtitles for Network.1976.iNTERNAL.DVDRip.XviD-SAPHiRE.english

This story is about Howard Beale,
the "Network News" anchorman on UBS TV.

In his time, Howard Beale had been
a mandarin of television...

the grand old man of news...

with a HUT rating of 16
and a 28 audience share.

In 1969, however, his fortunes
began to decline.

He fell to a 22 share.

The following year, his wife died,
and he was left a childless widower...

with an 8 rating
and a 12 share.

He became morose and isolated,
began to drink heavily.

On September 22, 1975,
he was fired...

effective in two weeks.

The news was broken to him
by Max Schumacher...

who was the president
of the News Division at UBS.

The two old friends
got properly pissed.

I was at CBS
with Ed Murrow in 1951.

Must've been 1950.

I was at NBC.
Associate producer.

Morning news.
I was just a kid... 26 years old.

Anyway, they were building the lower
level of the George Washington Bridge.

We were doing a remote from there.

And nobody told me.

7:00 a.m., I get a call.

"Where are you? You're supposed to be
on the George Washington Bridge?"

I jump out of bed,
throw my raincoat over my pajamas.

I run downstairs
and out into the street...

hail a cab and say to the cabbie...

"Take me to the middle
of the George Washington Bridge."

The cabbie turns around and says...

He says, "Don't do it, buddy.

You're a young man. You've got
your whole life ahead of you."

Didn't I tell you that before?

I'm gonna kill myself.

Shit, Howard.

I'm gonna blow my brains out
right on the air...

right in the middle
of the seven o'clock news.

You'll get a hell of a rating,
I'll guarantee that.

Fifty share easy.

- You think so?
- Sure.

We could make a series out of it.
"Suicide of the Week."

Why limit ourselves?
"Execution of the Week."

"Terrorist of the Week."

They'll love it.

Suicides. Assassinations.

Mad bombers.

Mafia hit men.

Automobile smashups.

"The Death Hour."

"A great Sunday night show
for the whole family."

Lt'd put fucking Disney
right off the air.

Let's do the Lenin deportation
at the end of three.

- Strong enough to bump?
- At one, then.

I'll do a lead on Sarah Jane Moore
to May Berry in San Francisco.

The film I saw
was of the chief of detectives.

I think we've got ten seconds
on the shooting itself.

The whole thing is 1:25.

- What does that come out?
- About 4:50.

- Can we use Squeaky Fromme?
- Let's do that at two.

Squeaky boarded the airport bus.

You using a map on him
for San Francisco?

I'd prefer newspapers.

What've we got left?

Gun control.
Patty Hearst affidavit.

Guerillas in Chad.
OPEC in Guiana.

Hello, Howard.
How are you?

Don't forget, Howard,
we're not using the 16.

The first attempt on President Ford's
life was 18 days ago...

and again yesterday in San Francisco.

In spite of the two attempts,
Mr. Ford says...

he will not become a prisoner
of the Oval Office...

a hostage
of would-be assassins.

The American people
are good people.

Democrats, Independents,
Republicans and others.

- How do you get mixed up that type?
- I don't know.

If you're so hot, why go to strangers?
What's wrong with me?

Ready two.

Two. Cue Howard.

Ladies and gentlemen,
I would like at this moment...

to announce that I will be retiring
from this program in two weeks' time...

because of poor ratings.

Since this show is the only thing
I had going for me in my life...

I have decided to kill myself.

I'm going to blow my brains out
on this program a week from today.

Ten seconds to commercial.

Tune in next Tuesday.

That should give the public relations
people a week to promote the show.

We oughta get a hell of a rating
out of that.

Fifty share easy.

- Listen. Did you hear that?
- What was that about?

Howard said he was going
to blow his brains out next Tuesday.

- What are you talking about?
- Didn't you hear him?

Howard said he was going
to kill himself next Tuesday.

What do you mean Howard said he
was going to kill himself next Tuesday?

He was supposed to do a tag.

He said, "Tune in next Tuesday.
I'm going to shoot myself."

What's going on?

He just said he was going
to blow his brains out.

What the fuck's going on?

- They wanna know what's going on.
- I can't hear you.

- Turn the studio mike on.
- We're on in 11 seconds.

- Ten seconds.
- What are you doing? Have you flipped?

- We better get him off.
- Get him off.

- Get your fucking hands off me!
- Turn the sound off!

He's going on live!

- Key two.
- We're in trouble down here.

Go to standby!

Lou, can't we clear out the lobby?
There must be 100 people there.

- How am I gonna clear 'em out?
- Every TV station and wire service!

I could barely get in.

- Arthur, anything?
- Not so far.

Frank Hackett just walked in.
We had to abort the show.

So far over 900
fucking phone calls...

complaining about the foul language.

- What page are you putting it on?
- Hackett just walked in.

- ABC again.
- Tell 'em to go fuck themselves.

That goes for you, too, Marty.

You're off the air.

- He wants to talk to you.
- Who's replacing Beale?

- We're flying Snowden up.
- Everybody hold it.

Let's see how the other networks
handle this.

- The ten o'clock news opened with it.
- Good evening. Howard Beale...

They'll all make it
their lead story.

Howard Beale interrupted
his "Network News" program tonight...

to announce he was going
to kill himself.

An unusual thing happened
at a sister network...

UBS, this evening.

- How are we handling it?
- Halloway will make a statement...

at the end of the show that Howard's
been under great personal stress.

We've got a stockholders' meeting
tomorrow...

at which we will announce
the restructuring of management plan.

I don't want this grotesque incident
to interfere with that.

I'll suggest Mr. Ruddy open with a short
statement washing this whole thing off.

You, Max, better have answers for those
nuts that always come to the meetings.

Mr. Beale has been under great
professional and personal strain.

I've got surprises for you, too!

I've had it up to here
with your division...

and it's annual
$33 million deficit!

Keep your hands off
my News Division, Frank.

We're responsible to corporate level,
not you.

We'll goddamn well see about that.

All right, take it easy.
How do we get Beale out of here?

I understand there are reporters
and camera crews in the lobby.

We've got a limo at the freight exit.

Howard, you'll spend the night at my
place. There'll be press around yours.

I want Snowden here by noon...

have Lester
cover the CIA hearings...

and give the White House
to Doris.

You're late for your screening, Max.

Right. Okay.

If John Wheeler calls,
switch him to projection room 7.

- I'm sorry, Bill. This Beale business.
- It's all right. Sit down.

Diana asked if she could sit in on this.

Fine. How's it going?

You'll like this footage better than
the stuff I showed you last time.

Max Schumacher.

Goddamn it! When?

Did he say anything?

All right, thank you.

The Communist Party believes the most
pressing political necessity today...

is the consolidation
of the revolutionary...

radical and democratic movements...

Harry, Howard Beale left my house
20 minutes ago.

Has he come in yet?

Let me know when he arrives.

- That's Laureen Hobbs, isn't it?
- Yeah.

This is from a David Susskind thing
a while back.

I think we can use some of this stuff.

What we're going to see now
is something really sensational.

The Flagstaff Independent Bank
of Arizona was ripped off last week...

by a terrorist group called
the Ecumenical Liberation Army.

They themselves took movies of the
rip-off while they were ripping it off.

The Ecumenical Liberation Army is not
the one that kidnapped Patty Hearst?

No, that's the Symbionese
Liberation Army.

This is the Ecumenical
Liberation Army.

They're the ones who kidnapped
Mary Ann Gifford three weeks ago.

There's a lot of liberation armies
in the revolutionary underground...

and a lot of kidnapped heiresses.

This is Mary Ann Gifford.

That's the Great Ahmed Khan.
He's their leader.

They actually shot this film
while they were ripping off the bank?

Wait till you see it.

I don't know whether to edit
or leave it raw like this.

This is terrific stuff!
Where did you get it?

I got everything
through Laureen Hobbs.

She's my contact
for all this stuff.

- I've got Howard on the other line.
- Put him on.

I've got Max on four. Pick up.

I'd like another shot.

- Come on, Howard.
- I don't mean the whole show.

I'd like to come on,
make some brief farewell statement...

and then turn the show over
to Jack Snowden.

I have 11 years at this network.
I have some standing in the industry.

I just don't want to go out
like a clown.

It'll be simple, dignified.
You and Harry can check the copy.

I think it'll take the strain
off the show.

- What do you think?
- Well, okay.

And no booze today, Howard!

No booze.

George, can you come into my office
for a minute?

Barbara, is Tommy around?
I'd like to see the two of you.

This is Bill Herron from our West Coast
Special Programs Department.

George Bosch. Barbara Schlesinger.
Tommy Pellegrino.

I just saw footage of a special Bill's
doing on the revolutionary underground.

Most of it's tedious stuff of
Laureen Hobbs and two fatigue jackets...

muttering mutilated Marxism...

but he's got eight minutes
of a bank robbery...

that is sensational!

Authentic stuff shot
while the robbery was going on.

Remember the Mary Ann Gifford
kidnapping?

It's that bunch of nuts. She's in
the movie shooting off machine guns.

This is really terrific footage.

We can get a movie of the week
out of it, maybe even a series.

A series?
What are we talking about?

We've got a bunch of hobgoblin radicals,
the Ecumenical Liberation Army...

who go around taking home movies
of themselves robbing banks.

Maybe they'll take movies of themselves
kidnapping heiresses...

hijacking 747 s...

bombing bridges,
assassinating ambassadors.

We'd open each week's segment
with their authentic footage...

hire writers to write a story behind
that footage, and we've got a series.

A series about a bunch
of bank-robbing guerrillas?

What will we call it,
the "Mao Tse-Tung Hour"?

Why not?

They've got "Strike Force,"
"Task Force," "SWAT."

Why not Che Guevara
and his own little "Mod Squad"?

I sent you all a concept analysis report
yesterday. Did any of you read it?

Well, in a nutshell it said...

"The American people
are turning sullen."

They've been clobbered on all sides
by Vietnam, Watergate, inflation.

They've turned off, shot up, fucked
themselves limp, and nothing helps.

So this concept analysis report
concludes...

the American people want somebody
to articulate their rage for them.

I've told you since I took this job
six months ago that I want angry shows.

I don't want conventional programming.

I want counterculture.
I want antiestablishment.

I don't want to play butch boss
with you people...

but when I took over
this department...

it had the worst programming record
in television history.

This network hasn't one show
in the top 20.

This network is an industry joke.

We better start putting together
one winner for next September.

I want a show developed...

based on the activities
of a terrorist group.

"Joseph Stalin and His Merry Band
of Bolsheviks."

I want ideas from you.
That is what you're paid for.

By the way, the next time I send
an audience research report around...

you'd better read it,
or I'll sack the lot of you.

Is that clear?

I'll be on the coast in four weeks. Can
you set up a meeting with Laureen Hobbs?

The business of management
is management.

At the time CCA took control,
the UBS TV network was foundering...

with less than seven percent
of national television revenues...

most network programs being sold
at station rates.

I am pleased to announce I am submitting
to the board of directors a plan...

for the coordination
of the main profit centers...

and with the specific intention
of making each division...

more responsive to management.

Point one.

"The division producing the lowest rate
of return has been the News Division...

with its $98 million budget and its
average annual deficit of $32 million."

I know, historically, news divisions
are expected to lose money.

To our minds, this philosophy
is a wanton fiscal affront...

to be resolutely resisted.

The new plan calls for local news to be
transferred to Owned Stations Divisions.

News Radio would be transferred to
the UBS Radio Division...

and the News Division would be reduced
from an independent division...

to a department accountable
to network.

- What was that all about, Ed?
- This is not the time.

Why wasn't I told about this?

Why was I led up onto that podium and
humiliated in front of the stockholders?

Goddamn it! I spoke to John Wheeler
this morning...

and he assured me
that the News Division was safe.

If you want me to resign,
that's a bad way to do it.

We'll talk about this tomorrow
at our regular morning meeting.

Roll VTA.

Bring it up on one.
Ready now.

In five, four, three, two...

- One.
- One TVA.

And...

cue announcer.

The "UBS Evening News"...

with Howard Beale.

Ready two.

Two. Cue power.

Good evening.
Today is Wednesday, September 24...

and this is my last broadcast.

Yesterday I announced
on this program...

that I was going to commit
public suicide...

admittedly an act of madness.

I'll tell you what happened.
I just ran out of bullshit.

- Cut him off.
- Leave him on.

Am I still on?

If this is how he wants to go out,
this is how he goes out.

I just ran out of bullshit.

Mr. Schumacher's here.
Do you want to talk to him?

Bullshit is all the reasons
we give for living.

If we can't think up reasons of our own,
we always have the God bullshit.

- We don't know why we go through...
- What is it?

Pointless pain,
humiliation and decay.

There better be someone, somewhere
who does know. That's the God bullshit.

He's saying that life is bullshit.
It is. What are you screaming about?

Man is a noble creature who can order
his own world. Who needs God?

If there's anybody who can look around
this demented world we live in...

and tell me man
is a noble creature...

believe me,
that man is full of bullshit.

- What's so goddamn funny?
- I can't help it. It's funny.

This is going out live
to 67 affiliates.

Leave him on.

And I was married for 33 years
of shrill, shrieking fraud.

- Mr. Hackett's trying to reach you.
- Tell Mr. Hackett to go fuck himself.

So I don't have any bullshit left.

I just ran out of it, you see.

Mr. Ruddy, could we have
one statement, please?

Sorry, I don't have
all the information yet.

If we could just have one statement
about Mr. Beale.

Max?

I'll want to see Mr. Beale
after this.

The way I hear it,
you were primarily responsible...

for this colossally
stupid prank.

- Is that the fact?
- That's the fact.

It was unconscionable.

- There is nothing more to say.
- I have something to say.

I want to know why that debasement
of the News Division...

announced at the meeting this afternoon
was kept secret from me?

You and I go back 20 years.

I took this job
with your personal assurance...

that you'd back my autonomy
against any encroachment.

But ever since CCA acquired control
of UBS Systems ten months ago...

Hackett's been taking over everything.

Who is running this network?
You or some conglomerate called CCA?

You're president
of the Systems Group.

Hackett's nothing
but a hatchet man for CCA.

Nelson here,
president of the network...

and he hasn't a damned thing to say
about anything anymore.

I told you
at the stockholders' meeting...

that we would discuss all that
at our regular meeting tomorrow morning.

If you had been patient,
I would have explained...

that I, too, thought
Frank Hackett precipitate...

and that the reorganization of the
News Division would not be executed...

until everyone,
specifically you, Max...

had been consulted and satisfied.

Instead, you sulked off
like a child...

and engaged this network
in a shocking and disgraceful episode.

Your position
is no longer tenable...

regardless of how management
is restructured.

I will expect your resignation
at 10:00 tomorrow morning.

We will coordinate our statements
to the least detriment of everyone.

Bob McDonough will take over the News
Division until we sort all this out.

I'd like to see Mr. Beale now.

They're looking for him.
They don't know where he is.

Well, every day, five days a week
for 15 years...

I've been sitting behind that desk,
the dispassionate pundit...

reporting with seemly detachment...

the daily parade of lunacies
that constitute the news.

Just once...

I wanted to say
what I really felt.

Knock it off.

It was, after all, my last one.

- Have the overnight ratings come in?
- They're on your desk.

Have you got
yesterday's overnights?

- Shall I bring them in?
- Yeah.

These are the outlines submitted
by Universal for an hour series.

You needn't bother to read them.
I'll tell them to you.

The first one is set in an eastern
law school, presumably Harvard.

The series is irresistibly entitled
"The New Lawyers."

The running characters are: A crusty
but benign ex-Supreme Court justice...

presumably Oliver Wendell Holmes
by way of Dr. Zorba...

a beautiful girl graduate student,
and the local district attorney...

who is brilliant
and sometimes cuts corners.

Next one.

The second one's called
"The Amazon Squad."

Lady cops.

Running characters include a crusty
but benign police lieutenant...

who's always getting heat
from the commissioner...

a tough, hard-drinking detective who
thinks women belong in the kitchen...

and a brilliant, beautiful young cop
who's fighting the feminist battle.

We're up to our ears in lady cops.

Next is another one of those
investigative reporter shows.

A crusty but benign managing editor
who's always getting...

You know, Barbara...

the Arabs have decided to jack up
the price of oil another 20 percent.

The CIA has been caught opening
Senator Humphrey's mail.

There's a civil war in Angola.
Another one in Beirut.

New York City's still facing default.

They finally caught up
with Patricia Hearst.

And the whole front page
of the Daily News is Howard Beale.

There's also a two-column story
on page one of the Times.

Helen?
Call Mr. Hackett's office.

See if he can give me
a few minutes this morning.

KTNS Kansas City refuses to carry
our "Network News Show" anymore...

unless Beale is taken off the air.

Did you see the overnights
on the "Network News"?

It has an 8 in New York,
a 9 in L. A...

and a 27 share in both cities.

Last night, Howard Beale went on the air
and yelled "bullshit" for two minutes.

I can tell you tonight's show
will get a 30 share at least.

- I think we've lucked into something.
- For God sakes, Diana!

Are you suggesting we put that lunatic
back on the air yelling "bullshit"?

Yes, I think we should put Beale back
on the air tonight and keep him on.

Did you see the news this morning?
Did you see the Times?

We got press coverage on this
you couldn't buy for a million dollars.

That show jumped 5 points in one night.
Tonight's show will be at least 15.

We've just increased our audience by
20 or 30 million people in one night!

You won't get something like this dumped
into your lap the rest of your days.

You can't piss it away. Howard said
last night what every American feels.

He's tired of all the bullshit!
He's articulating the popular rage!

I want that show, Frank.

I can turn that show
into the biggest smash on TV.

It's a news show.
It's not your department.

I see Howard Beale
as a latter-day prophet...

a messianic figure inveighing
against the hypocrisies of our times!

A strip Savonarola
Monday through Friday...

that will just go through the roof!

And I'm talking about
a six-dollar cost per thousand show.

I'm talking about
130,000 dollar minutes.

Figure out the revenues of a strip show
that sells for $100,000 a minute!

One show like that could pull
this network out of the hole!

It's being handed to us on a plate.
Let's not blow it.

Yes.

Tell him I'll be a few minutes.

- Let me think it over.
- Let's not go to committee on this.

It's 10:20. We want Beale in the studio
by 6:30. We don't want to lose momentum.

For God sakes, we're talking about
putting an irresponsible man...

on national television.

I'd like to talk to Legal Affairs,
Herb Thackery...

and Joe Donnelly
in Standards and Practices.

You know I'll be eyeball to eyeball
with Mr. Ruddy on this.

If I'm going to the mat with Ruddy,
I want to be sure of my ground.

My ass is going on the line.

I'll get back to you.

I don't believe the top brass...

of a national television network
is sitting around their Caesar salads...

Top brass of a bankrupt
national television network...

with projected losses
of $150 million.

I don't care!

You can't be seriously proposing,
and the rest of us considering...

putting on a pornographic
network news show.

- The FCC would kill us.
- Sit down, Nelson.

The FCC can't do anything
except rap our knuckles.

I don't even want to think about
the litigious possibilities.

- We could be up to our ears in lawsuits.
- The affiliates won't carry it.

The affiliates will kiss your ass
if you can hand them a hit show.

- But popular reaction...
- We don't know the popular reaction.

- That's what we have to find out.
- The New York Times...

The New York Times doesn't advertise
on our network.

All I know is, this violates
every canon of respectable broadcasting.

We're not a respectable network.
We're a whorehouse network.

We have to take whatever we can get.

I don't want any part of it.

I don't fancy myself
the president of a whorehouse.

That's commendable of you, Nelson.
Now sit down.

Your indignation
has been duly recorded.

You can always resign tomorrow.

What in substance are we proposing?

Merely to add editorial comment
to our network news show.

Brinkley, Sevareid, Reasoner
all have their comments.

Now Howard Beale will have his.

I think we ought to give it a shot,
see what happens tonight. Telephone.

I don't want to be the messenger
who has to tell Schumacher about this.

He doesn't work at this network anymore.
Mr. Ruddy fired him last night.

Bob McDonough is running
the News Division now.

Bob McDonough in News, please.

I don't know.

I may teach or write a book...

whatever the hell one does when one
approaches the autumn of one's years.

My God! Is that me?

Was I ever that young?

No, Howard brought in a picture
of Ed Murrow...

and the CBS gang
when we were there.

You wouldn't believe it!

Walter Cronkite, Harry Reasoner...

Hollenbeck, Bob Trout.

Is that you?

Yeah. Okay, Dick,
we'll be in touch.

Remember this kid you sent to interview
Cleveland Amory on vivisection?

What's so funny?

I jump out of bed in my pajamas,
I grab my raincoat, I run downstairs.

I run out to the street
and hail a cab.

I yell at the driver, "Take me to the
middle of the George Washington Bridge."

And the driver says,
"Don't do it, buddy. Don't do it!

You're young. You've got
your whole life ahead of you."

Wait a minute.

If you think that's funny,
wait till you hear this.

I've come from Hackett's office.

He wants to put Howard
back on the air tonight.

Apparently the ratings went up
five points last night...

and he wants Howard to go back on
and do his "angry man" thing.

What are you talking about?

They want Howard to go back on
and yell "bullshit."

They want Howard to go on...

spontaneously letting out
his anger.

A latter-day prophet
denouncing the hypocrisies of our times.

That sounds pretty good!

Who's "they"?

Hackett. Chaney was there.

The Legal Affairs guy.
Oh, and that girl from programming.

Christensen?
What's she got to do with this?

- Are you kidding?
- I'm not kidding.

I said, "We're running
a news department here, not a circus.

And Howard Beale's
not a bearded lady.

If you think I'll go along with
this bastardization of the news...

you can have my resignation
along with Max Schumacher's.

- I'm speaking for Howard Beale and..."
- That's my job you're turning down.

I'd go nuts
without some kind of work.

What's wrong with being an angry prophet
denouncing the hypocrisies of our times?

What do you think, Max?

Do you want to be an angry prophet
denouncing the hypocrisies of our times?

Yeah, I'd like to be an angry prophet
denouncing the hypocrisies of our times.

Then grab it!

- Afternoon, Mr. Ruddy.
- Afternoon.

Good afternoon, Mr. Ruddy.

- He's waiting for you.
- Thank you.

Nelson Chaney tells me Beale
may actually go on the air this evening.

As far as I know,
Howard's going to do it.

- Are you gonna sit still for this?
- Yes.

I think Hackett's overstepped himself.

There's some kind of
corporate maneuvering going on.

Hackett is clearly forcing
a confrontation.

That would account for his behavior
at the stockholders' meeting.

However, I think he's making a serious
mistake with this Beale business.

I suspect CCA will be upset...

at Hackett's presumptuousness.

Certainly Mr. Jensen will.

So I'm going to let Hackett
have his head for a while.

He just might lose it
over this Beale business.

I'd like you to reconsider
your resignation.

I assume Hackett
wouldn't take such steps...

without some support
on the CCA board.

I'll have to go directly to Mr. Jensen.

When that happens, I'm going to need
every friend I've got...

and I don't want Hackett's people
in all the divisional positions.

So I'd like you to stay on.

Of course.

Thank you, Max.

This has been
the "UBS Evening News"...

with Howard Beale.

The initial response to the new
"Howard Beale Show"...

was not auspicatory.

The press was,
without exception, hostile...

and industry reaction negative.

The ratings for the Thursday
and Friday shows...

were both 14,
but Monday's rating dropped a point...

clearly suggesting the novelty
was wearing off.

Did you know there are
a number of psychics...

working as licensed brokers
on Wall Street?

Some counsel their clients
by use of tarot cards.

They're all pretty successful,
even in a bear market and selling short.

I met one of them last week
and thought of doing a show around her.

"The Wayward Witch of Wall Street."
Something like that.

But if her tips were any good,
she could wreck the market.

I called her this morning and asked her
how she was on predicting the future.

She said she was
occasionally prescient.

"For example," she said,
"I just had a vision of you...

sitting in an office
with a craggy, middle-aged man...

with whom you are
or will be emotionally involved."

And here I am.

She does all this with tarot cards?

This one operates
on parapsychology.

She has trance-like episodes
and feels things in her energy field.

- This lady could be very useful to you.
- In what way?

You put on a news show.

And here's somebody who can predict
tomorrow's news for you.

Her name, aptly enough, is Sibyl.

Sibyl the Soothsayer.

You could give her
two minutes of trance...

at the end of the "Howard Beale Show,"
say once a week, Friday...

which is suggestively occult,
and she could oraculate.

Then next week everyone tunes in to see
how good her predictions were.

Maybe she could do the weather.

Your "Network News Show" will need help
if it's going to hold.

Beale doesn't do the "angry man" thing
well at all.

He's too kvetchy.
He's being irascible.

We want a prophet, not a curmudgeon.
He should do more apocalyptic doom.

I think you should have some writers
write some jeremiads for him.

I see you don't fancy my suggestions.

You're not serious?

I'm serious.

The fact is, I could make
your Beale show...

the highest-rated news show in TV
if you'd let me have a crack at it.

What do you mean,
"have a crack at it"?

I'd like to program it for you.

Develop it.

I wouldn't interfere with
the news itself, but TV is show biz...

and even the news has to have
a little showmanship.

My God, you are serious.

I watched your six o'clock news today.
It's straight tabloid.

You had a minute and a half of that lady
riding naked in Central Park...

but you had less than a minute
of hard national and international news.

It was all sex, scandal,
brutal crime, sports...

children with incurable diseases
and lost puppies.

So I won't listen to protestations
of high standards of journalism...

when you're on the streets, soliciting
audiences like the rest of us.

All I'm saying is, if you're going
to hustle, at least do it right.

I'm going to bring this up at tomorrow's
meeting, but I don't like hassles.

I was hoping we could work this out
between us. That's why I'm here.

And I was hoping you were looking for
an emotional involvement...

with a craggy, middle-aged man.

I wouldn't rule that out entirely.

All right, Diana...

bring up all your ideas at the meeting,
because if you don't, I will.

I think Howard's making
a goddamn fool of himself...

and so does everybody that Howard
and I know in this industry.

It was a fluke.
Didn't work.

So tomorrow, Howard goes back
to the old format...

and all of this gutter depravity
comes to an end.

I don't get it.

You hung around until 7:30
and then came down here...

just to pitch a couple
of loony show-biz ideas...

when you knew goddamn well
I'd laugh you right out of the office.

I don't get it.

What's your scam in this?

My visit here tonight was a gesture made
out of your stature in the industry...

and because I personally admired you
since I was a kid...

majoring in speech
at the University of Missouri.

Sooner or later, with or without you,
I'm going to take over your news show.

I figured I might as well start tonight.

I think I once gave a lecture...

at the University of Missouri.

I was in the audience. I had
a schoolgirl crush on you for months.

If we could get back for a moment
to that gypsy who predicted...

all that about emotional involvements
and middle-aged men...

what are you doing
for dinner tonight?

I can't make it tonight.
Call me tomorrow.

- Do you have a favorite restaurant?
- I eat anything.

I get a feeling I'm being made.

You are.

I've got to warn you.
I don't do anything on my first date.

We'll see.

Schmuck, what are you getting into?

I was married for four years
and pretended to be happy.

I had six years of analysis
and pretended to be sane.

My husband ran off
with his boyfriend...

and I had an affair with my analyst who
told me I was the worst lay he ever had.

I can't tell you how many men
have told me what a lousy lay I am.

I apparently have
a masculine temperament.

I arouse quickly,
consummate prematurely...

and I can't wait to get my clothes
back on and get out of that bedroom.

I seem to be inept at everything
except my work.

I'm good at my work.

So I confine myself to that.

All I want out of life
is a 30 share and a 20 rating.

You're married, surely?

Twenty-five years.

I have a married daughter in Seattle
who's six months pregnant...

and a younger girl who's starting
at Northwestern in January.

Well, Max, here we are.

Middle-aged man reaffirming
his middle-aged manhood...

and a terrified young woman
with a father complex.

What sort of script
can we make out of this?

Corridor gossip says that you're
Frank Hackett's backstage girl.

I'm not.

Frank's a corporation man,
body and soul.

He has no loves, lusts
or allegiances...

that are not consummately directed
toward becoming a CCA board member.

Why should he bother with me?
I'm not even a stockholder.

What about your loves,
lusts and allegiances?

Is your wife in town?

Yes.

Then we better go to my place.

I can't hear you.
You'll have to talk a little louder.

Yes, I hear you.

Yes.

Yes.

Why me?

I said, "Why me?"

Howard in his office?

I'm killing this whole screwball
"angry prophet" thing.

Tonight we go back to straight news.

Yeah? Max, I'm telling you he's fine.

He's been sharp all day.
He's been as funny as hell.

Had everybody cracking up
at the rundown meeting.

I told him!

Cue VTA.

Ready two.

- Cue announcer.
- The "UBS Evening News"...

with Howard Beale.

Last night I was awakened
from a fitful sleep...

shortly after 2:00 in the morning...

by a shrill, sibilant,
faceless voice.

I couldn't make it out at first
in the dark bedroom.

I said, "I'm sorry.
You'll have to talk a little louder."

- What do you want me to do?
- Nothing.

The voice said to me,
"I want you to tell the truth.

Not easy to do, because the people
don't want to know the truth."

I said, "You're kidding?

What should I know about the truth?"

But the voice said to me,
"Don't worry about the truth."

I will put the words in your mouth."

I said,
"Is this the burning bush?

I'm not Moses."

The voice said, "I'm not God.
What has that got to do with it?"

The voice said, "We're not talking
about eternal, absolute truth.

We're talking about impermanent,
transient, human truth!

I don't expect people
to be capable of truth...

but at least you're capable
of self-preservation."

I said, "Why me?"

The voice said, "Because you're
on television, dummy."

Beautiful.

"Forty million Americans listen to you,
and after the show, maybe 50 million.

I'm not asking you to walk the land
in sackcloth preaching the Armageddon.

You're on TV."

I thought about it for a moment.

Then I said, "Okay."

Close the door, Harry.

Howard, I'm taking you off the air.

I think you're having a breakdown,
require treatment.

This is not a psychotic episode.

This is a cleansing moment of clarity.

I'm imbued.

I'm imbued with some special spirit.
It's not a religious feeling at all.

It's a shocking eruption
of great electrical energy.

I feel vivid and flashing...

as if suddenly I'd been plugged
into a great electromagnetic field.

I feel connected to all living things.

To flowers, birds...

all the animals of the world...

and even to some great,
unseen living force...

what I think the Hindus
call "prana."

But it's not a breakdown.

I've never felt more orderly
in my life.

It is a shattering
and beautiful sensation.

It is the exalted flow
of the space-time continuum...

save that it is spaceless
and timeless...

and such loveliness.

I feel on the verge
of some great ultimate truth.

And you will not take me off the air
for now or any other spaceless time!

- Is he okay?
- He's just fainted.

I better get him back to my house
again tonight.

Help me get him up.

This is crazy.

The whole place has gone crazy.
They just seem to hassle me.

Wake up, Max,
because Howard's gone.

I'll make you some coffee.

You don't know where he is?
The son of a bitch is a hit!

Goddamn it!
Over 2,000 phone calls!

In the mail room, over 14,000 telegrams!
The response is sensational!

Tell him.
Herb's phone hasn't stopped ringing.

Every affiliate from Albuquerque
to Sandusky! Response is sensational!

Yes. All right.

For you, Herb.
Go to your office.

Moldanian called me. Joe Donnelly
called me. We've got a goddamn hit!

Show him the Times. We even got
an editorial in the New York Times.

- "A Call to Morality."
- I don't know where he is.

That crazy Beale has caught on. Don't
tell me you don't know where he is.

He could be jumping off a roof
for all I know!

The man is insane!
He's not responsible for himself!

He needs care and treatment.

All you grave robbers think about
is that he's a hit.

It's just possible
that he isn't insane...

that he is, in fact,
imbued with some special spirit.

I'm supposed to be the romantic!
You're the hard-bitten realist!

All right. Howard Beale
obviously fills a void.

The audience
obviously wants a prophet...

even a manufactured one...
even if he's as mad as Moses.

By tomorrow he'll have a 50 share,
maybe a 60.

Howard Beale
is processed instant God.

It looks like he may go over bigger
than Mary Tyler Moore.

I am not putting Howard
back on the air!

It's not your show anymore.
It's mine.

I gave her the show.

I'm putting the "Network News Show"
under programming.

Mr. Ruddy had a heart attack
and is not taking calls.

In his absence,
I'm making all network decisions...

including one I've been wanting to make
a long time: You're fired.

I want you out of this building
by noon.

I'll call security and have you
thrown out if you're still here.

Well, let's say
fuck you, Hackett.

You want me out of here...

you'll have to drag me and the whole
News Division out kicking and screaming.

You think they'll quit their jobs
for you? Not in this recession.

Ruddy will have your ass.

I got a hit!
Ruddy doesn't count anymore!

He was hoping I'd fall on my face
with this Beale show, but I didn't.

It's a big, fat, big-titted hit...

and I don't have to waffle around
with Ruddy anymore.

If he wants to take me before
the CCA board, let him.

Do you think Ruddy is stupid enough
to go to the CCA board and say...

"I'm taking our one hit show
off the air."

Come November 14, I'll be at the annual
CCA Management Review Meeting...

and I'll announce projected earnings
for this network...

for the first time in five years!

Believe me, Mr. Jensen will be
sitting there, rocking back and forth...

and he'll say, "That's very good, Frank.
Keep it up."

So don't have illusions about who's
running this network. You're fired.

I want you out of your office before
noon, or I'll have you thrown out.

You go along with this?

I told you I didn't want
a network hassle.

I told you I'd much rather
work the Beale show out between us.

Well, let's just say
fuck you, too, honey.

Howard Beale may be my best friend.
I'll go to court.

I'll put him in a hospital before I let
you exploit him like a carnival freak.

You get your psychiatrist.
I'll get mine.

I'm gonna spread this reeking business
in every newspaper...

on every network, group and affiliate
in this country!

I'm gonna make
a lot of noise about this!

We need all the press we can get!

Something going on
between you and Schumacher?

Not anymore.

- How do you do, Mr. Beale?
- I must make my witness.

Sure thing, Mr. Beale.

Oil ministers of the OPEC nations
meeting in Vienna...

still haven't decided how much
to increase the price of oil.

Yeah? He came in the building
five minutes ago.

Tell Snowden when he comes in
to let him go on.

Did you get that, Paul?

More on that story
from Edward Fletcher in Vienna.

This has been the most divisive meeting
the oil states have ever had.

The 13 nations of OPEC
have still not...

been able to decide by how much
to increase the price of oil.

How much time we got?

We've got five seconds.
Hurry up.

Take two. Cue Howard.

I don't have to tell you things are bad.
Everybody knows things are bad.

It's a depression.

Everybody's out of work
or scared of losing their job.

The dollar buys a nickel's worth.
Banks are going bust.

Shopkeepers keep guns under the counter.
Punks are running wild in the street.

Nobody anywhere seems to know
what to do, and there's no end to it.

We know the air is unfit to breathe
and our food is unfit to eat.

We sit watching our TVs
while some newscaster tells us...

that today we had 15 homicides
and 63 violent crimes...

as if that's the way
it's supposed to be!

We know things are bad.
Worse than bad. They're crazy.

Everything everywhere is going crazy,
so we don't go out anymore.

We sit in the house. Slowly the world
we're living in is getting smaller.

All we say is, "Please. At least
leave us alone in our living rooms.

Let me have my toaster, my TV
my steel-belted radials.

I won't say anything
Just leave us alone."

I'm not gonna leave you alone.
I want you to get mad!

I don't want you to protest or riot.

Don't write to your congressman.
I don't know what to tell you to write.

I don't know what to do
about depression, inflation...

the Russians,
the crime in the streets.

All I know is that first
you've got to get mad!

You've got to say,
"I'm a human being, goddamn it!

My life has value!"

So, I want you to get up now.

I want all of you to get up
out of your chairs.

I want you to get up now
and go to the window...

open it,
stick your head out and yell...

"I'm as mad as hell, and I'm
not gonna take this anymore!"

I want you to get up right now.

- Stay with him.
- Sit up! Go to your windows.

Open them,
stick your head out and yell...

"I'm as mad as hell, and I'm
not gonna take this anymore!"

- How many stations does it go out live?
- Sixty-seven.

"I'm not gonna take this anymore."

Then we'll figure out what to do
about the depression and the oil crisis.

First, get out of your chairs...

open the window,
stick your head out and yell...

"I'm as mad as hell...

and I'm not gonna
take this anymore!"

- Who are you talking to?
- Atlanta.

Are they yelling in Atlanta?

But first you've gotta get mad.

You've gotta say, "I'm as mad as hell,
and I'm not gonna take this anymore!"

They're yelling in Baton Rouge.

Get up!

Son of a bitch!
We've struck the mother lode!

Stick your head out of the window
and keep yelling.

Yell, "I'm as mad as hell.

I'm not gonna take this anymore."

Just get up from your chairs.

- Where you going?
- I want to see if anybody's yelling.

Open it and stick your head out.

Yell and keep yelling...

I'm mad as hell!

I'm not gonna take this anymore!

I'm mad as hell, and I'm
not gonna take it anymore!

I'm mad as hell, and I'm not
going to take this anymore!

By mid-October, the "Howard Beale Show"
had settled in at a 42 share...

more than equaling all the other
network news shows combined.

In the Nielsen ratings,
the "Howard Beale Show"...

was the fourth-highest-rated show
of the month...

surpassed only by "The Six Million
Dollar Man," "All in the Family"...

and "Phyllis"...

a phenomenal state of affairs
for a news show.

On October 15, Diana Christensen
flew to Los Angeles...

for what the trade calls
powwows and confabs...

with her West Coast
programming execs...

and to get production rolling
on the shows for the coming season.

Christ! You brought half the William
Morris West Coast Office along with you.

I'm Diana Christensen, a racist lackey
of the imperialist ruling circles.

I'm Laureen Hobbs,
a bad-ass commie nigger.

Sounds like the basis
of a firm friendship.

- We'll need more chairs.
- Anybody want coffee?

I'd love some.

This is my lawyer, Sam Haywood,
and his associate, Merrill Grant.

Miss Christensen, just what the hell's
this all about?

Because, when a national
television network...

in the person of booby here
comes to me and says...

they want to put the ongoing struggle
of the oppressed masses...

on prime-time television...

I have to regard this askance!

Mr. Haywood was saying
that our client, Miss Hobbs...

wants it up front that
the political content of the show...

has to be in her control.

She can have it. I don't give a damn
about the political content.

What kind of show?

I'm interested in doing
a weekly dramatic series...

based on the
Ecumenical Liberation Army...

and the first show has to be
a two-hour special on Mary Ann Gifford.

I want a lot more film like the bank
rip-off the Ecumenical sent in.

The way I see the series is...

each week we open with an authentic act
of political terrorism...

taken on the spot
and in the actual moment.

Then we go to the drama behind
the opening film footage.

That's your job, Miss Hobbs.

You've got to get the Ecumenicals
to bring in that film footage for us.

The network can't deal with them.
They are wanted criminals.

The Ecumenical Liberation Army
is an ultra-left sect...

creating political confusion...

with wildcat violence
and pseudo-insurrectionary acts...

which the Communist Party
does not endorse.

The American masses are not yet ready
for open revolt.

We would not want to produce
a television show...

celebrating historically
deviational terrorism.

I'm offering you an hour
of prime-time television every week...

into which you can stick
whatever propaganda you want.

The Ecumenicals are an undisciplined
ultra-left gang...

whose leader is an eccentric,
to say the least.

He calls himself the Great Ahmed Khan
and wears a hussar's shako.

We're talking about
30 to 50 million people a shot.

It's better than handing out...

mimeographed pamphlets
on ghetto street corners.

I'll have to take this matter
to the Central Committee.

And I'd better check it out
with the Great Ahmed Khan.

I'll be in L.A. Until Saturday,
and I'd like to get it rolling.

Well, Ahmed,
you ain't gonna believe this...

but I'm gonna make
a TV star outta you.

Just like Archie Bunker.

You gonna be a household word.

What the fuck are you talking about?

- Thirty seconds.
- Ready VTA.

One, you have the audience to pan.

Two, you have the window to pull.

Three, you're on the announcer.

Twenty.

Stand by VTA.

Fifteen, 14, 13, 12...

- Ready A.
- Roll VTA.

Nine, 8, 7...

6, 5, 4...

3, 2, 1.

Three, cue announcer!

Ladies and gentlemen, let's hear it!
How do you feel?

We're mad as hell...

and we're not gonna take this anymore!

Ladies and gentlemen,
the "Network News Hour"...

with Sybil the Soothsayer...

Jim Webbing and his
It's-The-Emmes-Truth Department...

Miss Mata Hari
and her skeletons in the closet.

Plus tonight, another segment
of "Vox Populi."

And starring the Mad Prophet
of the Airways, Howard Beale!

Edward George Ruddy died today!

Edward George Ruddy
was the chairman of the board...

of the Union Broadcasting Systems...

and he died at 11:00 this morning
of a heart condition.

Woe is us!
We're in a lot of trouble!

So, a rich little man
with white hair died.

What does that got to do
with the price of rice, right?

And why is that woe to us?

Because you people...

and 62 million other Americans
are listening to me right now.

Because less than three percent
of you people read books.

Because less than 15 percent of you
read newspapers.

Because the only truth you know
is what you get over this tube.

Right now, there is a whole
and entire generation...

that never knew anything
that didn't come out of this tube!

This tube is the Gospel.
The ultimate revelation.

This tube can make or break...

presidents, popes, prime ministers.

This tube is the most awesome goddamn
force in the whole godless world...

and woe is us if it ever falls
into the hands of the wrong people!

And that's why woe is us
that Edward George Ruddy died.

Because this company is now
in the hands of CCA...

the Communication Corporation
of America.

There's a new chairman of the board,
a man called Frank Hackett...

sitting in Mr. Ruddy's office
on the 20th floor.

And when the 12th largest company
in the world...

controls the most awesome,
goddamn propaganda force...

in the whole godless world...

who knows what shit will be peddled
for truth on this network!

So you listen to me.
Listen to me!

Television is not the truth.

Television's
a goddamned amusement park!

Television is a circus, a carnival,
a traveling troupe of acrobats...

storytellers, dancers, singers,
jugglers, sideshow freaks...

lion tamers and football players.

We're in the boredom-killing business.

So if you want the truth,
go to God.

Go to your gurus.

Go to yourselves!

Because that's the only place
you're ever gonna find any real truth.

But, man, you're never gonna get
any truth from us.

We'll tell you anything you wanna hear.
We lie like hell.

We'll tell you that Kojak
always gets the killer...

and that nobody ever gets cancer
in Archie Bunker's house.

And no matter how much trouble
the hero is in, don't worry.

Look at your watch.
At the end of the hour he'll win!

We'll tell you any shit
you want to hear!

We deal in illusions.
None of it is true!

But you people sit there,
day after day, night after night.

You're all ages, colors, creeds.
We're all you know.

You're beginning to believe
the illusions we're spinning here.

You're beginning to think the tube is
reality and your own lives are unreal.

You do whatever the tube tells you!

You dress like the tube,
eat like the tube...

raise your children like the tube,
even think like the tube.

This is mass madness, you maniacs!

In God's name, you people
are the real thing!

We are the illusion!

So turn off your television sets.
Turn them off right now.

Turn them off and leave them off.

Turn them off in the middle
of this sentence.

Turn them off!

UBS was running at a cash flow
of break-even point...

after taking into account $110 million
of negative cash flow from the network.

It was clear the fat on the network
had to be flitched off.

Please note an increase in projected
initial programming revenues...

in the amount of $21 million...

due to the phenomenal success
of the "Howard Beale Show."

I expect a positive cash flow
for the entire complex of 45 million...

achievable in this fiscal year...

a year, in short,
ahead of schedule.

Beyond that...

this network may be
the most significant profit center...

of the communications complex...

and based upon the projected rate
of return on invested capital...

and if merger is accomplished,
the communications complex...

may well become the towering
and most profitable center...

in the entire CCA empire.

I await your questions and comments.

Mr. Jensen?

Very good, Frank. Exemplary.
Keep it up.

Buy you a cup of coffee?

Hell, yes.

Do you have to get back
to the office?

Nothing that can't wait.

I drop down to the news studios
now and then...

and ask Howard Beale about you.

He says you're doing fine.
Are you?

Are you keeping busy?

In a fashion.

This is the third funeral
I've been to in two weeks.

I have two other friends in the hospital
whom I visit regularly.

I've been to a couple of christenings.

All my friends seem to be dying
or having grandchildren.

You should be a grandfather yourself
about now.

You have a pregnant daughter
in Seattle, don't you?

Any day now.

My wife's out there
for the occasion.

I've thought many times of calling you.

I wish you had.

I bumped into Sybil the Soothsayer
in the elevator last week.

I said, "You know, Sybil,
about four months ago...

you predicted I would get involved
with a craggy, middle-aged man.

So far, all that's happened
has been one many-splendored night.

I don't call that
getting involved."

She said,
"Don't worry. You will."

It was a many-splendored night,
wasn't it, Max?

Yes, it was.

Are we going to get involved?

Yes. I need to become involved
very much.

How about you?

I've reached for the phone to call you
a hundred times...

but I was sure you hated me for my part
in taking your news show away.

I probably did.
I don't know anymore.

All I know is,
I can't get you out of my mind.

Marty, I know what NBC offered them.

Go to 3.5, and I want an option
for a third run on all of them.

I'm in a big hurry, and you and Charlie
are supposed to be negotiating this.

Good-bye, good luck.
I'll see you Monday.

- Jimmy Caan's agent says absolutely nix.
- You can't win them all.

- Where can I reach you later today?
- You can't. I'll be gone all weekend.

NBC's offering 3.25 mil
per package of five James Bond movies...

and I think I'm gonna steal them
for 3.5...

with a third run.

I'm gonna stick the "Mao Tse-tung Hour"
in at 8:00...

because we're having a lot of trouble
selling the "Mao Tse-tung Hour."

That "Mao Tse-tung Hour's" turning
into one big pain in the ass.

We're having heavy legal problems
with the federal government right now.

Two FBI guys turned up in Hackett's
office and served us with a subpoena.

They heard about our Flagstaff
bank rip-off film, and they want it.

Hackett told the FBI to fuck off.

We're getting around the FBI...

by doing the show in collaboration
with the news division.

We're standing on the First Amendment:
Freedom of the press...

and the right to protect our sources.

Walter thinks we can knock out
the misprision of felony charge.

But he says absolutely nix
on going to series.

They'll hit us with "conspiracy
with an inducement to commit a crime."

Christ, it's cold in here.

We're paying these Ecumencial
Liberation Army nuts $10,000 a week...

in order to turn in authentic film
of their revolutionary activities.

That inconstitutes
"inducement to commit a crime"...

and Walter says we'll all wind up
in federal prison.

I said, "Walter,
let the federal government sue us.

We'll take them to the Supreme Court.

We'll be front page."

The New York Times
and the Washington Post...

will write editorials.

We'll be front page for months.
We'll have more press than Watergate.

All I need is six weeks
federal litigation...

and the "Mao Tse-tung Hour" can start
carrying its own time slot.

What's really bugging me now
is my daytime programming.

NBC's got a lock on daytime...

with their lousy game shows...

and I'd like to bust them.

I'm thinking of doing
a homosexual soap opera. "The Dykes."

The heartrending saga about a woman...

hopelessly in love
with her husband's mistress.

What do you think?

How long has it been going on?

A month.

I thought it was a transient thing,
blow over in a week.

I still pray to God
it's just a menopausal infatuation.

But it is an infatuation, Louise.

There's no sense in my saying
I won't see her again, because I will.

You want me to leave,
check into a hotel?

Do you love her?

I don't know how I feel.

I'm grateful I can feel anything.

I know I'm obsessed with her.

Then say it!

Don't keep telling me that
you're obsessed, you're infatuated!

Say that you're in love with her.

I'm in love with her.

Then get out! Go anywhere you want.
Go live with her, but don't come back!

Because after 25 years of building
a home and raising a family...

and all the senseless pain
that we have inflicted on each other...

I'm damned if I'll stand and have you
say you're in love with somebody else!

This isn't the convention weekend
with your secretary, is it?

Or some broad that you picked up
after three belts of booze.

This is your great winter romance,
isn't it?

Your last roar of passion before
you settle into your emeritus years.

Is that what's left for me?
Is that my share?

She gets the winter passion,
and I get the dotage?

Am I supposed to sit home
knitting and purling...

while you slink back
like some penitent drunk?

I'm your wife, damn it...

and if you can't work up
a winter passion for me...

the least I require
is respect and allegiance!

I hurt!
Don't you understand that?

I hurt badly!

Oh, say something for God's sake.

I've got nothing to say.

I won't give you up easily.

I think perhaps it is better
if you move out.

Does she love you?

I'm not sure she's capable
of any real feelings.

She's television generation.
She learned life from Bugs Bunny.

The only reality she knows
comes to her from over the TV set.

She's very carefully devised a number
of scenarios for all of us to play...

like a movie of the week.

My God, look at us.

Here we are going through
the obligatory middle-of-act-two...

"scorned wife throws
peccant husband out" scene.

But don't worry,
I'll come back to you in the end.

All of her plot outlines have me
leaving her and coming back to you...

because the audience won't buy a
rejection of the happy American family.

She does have one script
in which I kill myself.

An adapted-for-television version
of "Anna Karenina"...

where she's Count Vronsky
and I'm Anna.

You're in for some dreadful grief.

I know.

The "Mao Tse-tung Hour"
went on the air March 14.

It received a 47 share.

The network promptly committed
to 15 shows with an option for 10 more.

There were the usual
contractual difficulties.

"Equal to 20 percent except that such
a percentage shall be 30 percent...

for 90 minutes
or longer television programs."

Have we settled
that sub-licensing thing?

We want a clear definition here.

"Gross proceeds should consist of
all funds the sub-licensee receives...

not merely the net amount remitted...

after payment to the sub-licensee
or distributor."

We're not sitting still for overhead
charges as a cost prior to distribution.

Don't fuck with my distribution costs!

I'm making a lousy 215 per segment.

I'm already deficiting 25 grand a week
with Metro!

I'm paying William Morris 10 percent
off the top!

I'm giving this turkey ten thousand
per segment and five to this fruitcake.

And, Helen, don't start
no shit with me about a piece again.

I'm paying Metro 20 percent for all
foreign and Canadian distribution...

and that's after recoupment!

The Communist Party won't see a nickel
outta this show until syndication.

The Party's in for 7,500 a week
production expenses!

I'm not giving
this pseudo-insurrectionary a piece.

I won't give him script approval or
cut him in on my distribution charges.

You fucking fascist!

Did you see the film we made
of the San Marino jail breakout...

demonstrating the rising up of a
seminal prisoner class infrastructure?

You can blow the seminal prisoner class
infrastructure out your ass!

I'm not knocking down
my goddamn distribution charges!

Man, give her
the fucking overhead clause.

Who's gonna believe this?

Let's get back to page 22.
Five, small "a."

"Subsidiary rights."

- Where are we now?
- Middle of page 22, "Subsidiary rights."

"As used herein, 'subsidiary rights'
means without limitation any and all..."

Over the past two days, you've had
opportunity to meet Diana Christensen...

our vice president
in charge of programming.

This afternoon, you all saw some of the
stuff she's set up for the new season.

You all know that she is the woman
behind the "Howard Beale Show."

We all know she's beautiful.

We all know she's brainy.

I was thinking, before we start digging
into our chateaubriands...

let's show her how we feel about her.

We've got the number one show
in television!

At next year's affiliates' meeting, I'll
be telling you we've got the top five!

Last year, we were
the number four network.

Next year, we're number one!

We're number one!

We're number one!

It is exactly 7:00
here in Los Angeles...

and right now over a million homes
using television in this city...

are turning their dials
to channel three...

and that's our channel!

Howard Beale!

Stop it! Stop it!

Listen to me,
and listen carefully...

because this is your goddamn life
I'm talking about today.

In this country, when one company wants
to take over another company...

they simply buy up a controlling share
of the stock...

but first they have to file notice
with the government.

That's how CCA took over the company
that owns this network.

But now somebody's buying up CCA.

Somebody called
the Western World Funding Corporation.

They filed the notice this morning.

Who in the hell is
the Western World Funding Corporation?

It is a consortium of banks
and insurance companies...

who are not buying CCA for themselves
but as agents for somebody else.

And who is this somebody else?
They won't tell you.

They won't tell you.
They won't tell the Senate.

They won't tell the SEC, the FCC,
the Justice Department.

This is Mr. Hackett.
Do you have a New York call for me?

Do you want to
turn that down, please?

I will tell you who
they're buying CCA for.

They're buying it for the
Saudi Arabian Investment Corporation.

They're buying it for the Arabs!

Clarence? Frank Hackett here.
How's everything back in New York?

How's the good lady?

Take it easy.
I don't know what you're talking about.

When? Tonight's show?

Clarence, take it easy.

The "Howard Beale Show" is just going on
out here. You get it 3 hours earlier.

Take it easy! How the hell could
I see it? It's just going on now!

When did Mr. Jensen call?

We all know that the Arabs control...

$16 billion in this country.

They own a chunk of Fifth Avenue,
20 downtown pieces of Boston...

a part of the port of New Orleans,
an industrial park in Salt Lake City.

They own big hunks
of the Atlanta Hilton...

the Arizona Land and Cattle Company...

the Security National Bank
in California...

the Bank of the Commonwealth
in Detroit.

They control Aramco, so that puts them
into Exxon, Texaco and Mobil Oil.

They're all over! New Jersey,
Louisville, St. Louis, Missouri.

And that's only what we know about.
There's more we don't know about.

Because all of those Arab
petrol dollars are washed...

through Switzerland and Canada
and the biggest banks in this country.

For example, what we don't know about
is this CCA deal...

and all the other CCA deals.

Right now the Arabs have screwed us out
of enough American dollars...

to come right back
and with our own money...

buy General Motors,
IBM, ITT, AT&T...

Du Pont, U.S. Steel
and 20 other American companies.

Hell, they already own
half of England!

Listen to me.

Listen to me, goddamn it!

The Arabs are simply buying us.

There's only one thing
that can stop them! You!

You!

So I want you to get up now.

I want you to get up
out of your chairs.

I want you to get up right now
and go to the phone.

I want you to get up from your chairs,
go to the phone...

get in your cars, drive into
the Western Union offices in town.

I want you to send a telegram
to the White House.

- Oh, my God.
- By midnight tonight...

I want a million telegrams
in the White House!

I want them wading knee-deep
in telegrams at the White House.

I want you to get up right now and
write a telegram to President Ford...

saying "I'm as mad as hell,
and I'm not gonna take this anymore!

I don't want the banks
selling my country to the Arabs!

I want the CCA deal stopped now!"

I want the CCA deal stopped now!

Come on. I want the CCA deal
stopped now!

- Could we have the room?
- Sure.

I'd like to see a typed script
and run through a couple more times.

But as for this whole CCA deal...

with the Saudis, you know a lot more
about that, Frank, than I would.

Is it true?

The CCA has two billion in loans
with the Saudis...

and they hold
every pledge we've got.

We need that Saudi money bad.

The show is a disaster.

Unmitigated disaster!
The death knell.

I'm ruined. I'm dead.
I'm finished.

Maybe we're overstating Beale's clout
with the public.

An hour ago, Clarence McElheny
called me from New York.

It was 10:00 in the East...

and our people in the White House report
they were knee-deep in telegrams.

By tomorrow morning,
they'll be suffocating in telegrams!

Can the government stop the deal?

They can hold it up. The SEC could hold
it up for 20 years if they wanted to.

I'm finished.

Any second that phone's gonna ring,
and Clarence McElheny...

is gonna tell me Mr. Jensen wants me
in his office tomorrow morning...

so he can personally chop my head off!

Four hours ago,
I was the sun god at CCA...

Mr. Jensen's handpicked golden boy,
the heir apparent.

Now, I'm a man
without a corporation.

Let's get back to Howard Beale.

You're not seriously gonna pull
Beale off the air.

Mr. Jensen's unhappy with Howard Beale
and wants him discontinued.

He may be unhappy,
but he isn't stupid enough...

to withdraw the number one show
on television out of pique.

Two billion dollars isn't pique!
That's the wrath of God!

And the wrath of God wants
Howard Beale fired!

What for? Every other network will grab
him. He'll be on the air for ABC.

I'm gonna impale the son of a bitch
with a sharp stick through the heart.

We'll lose $40 million in revenues.

I'll take a contract out on him.
I'll hire professional killers.

No, I'll do it myself.

I'll strangle him with a sash cord.
Jesus!

I don't think Jensen's
gonna fire anybody.

Yes, Clarence.
I've already booked my flight.

Can you give me a little more time
than that? I've got the red-eye flight.

I won't be back in New York
till 6:00 tomorrow morning.

That'll be just fine.

I'll see you then.

Mr. Jensen wants to meet
with Howard Beale personally.

He wants Mr. Beale in his office
at 10:00 tomorrow morning.

The final revelation is at hand!

I have seen the shattering
vulgarizations of ultimate clarity.

The light is impending.
I bear witness to the light!

Good morning, Mr. Beale.
They tell me you're a madman.

Only desultorily.

- How are you now?
- I'm as mad as a hatter.

Who isn't?

I'm taking you into
our conference room.

Seems more seemly a setting
for what I have to say to you.

I started as a salesman.

I sold sewing machines,
automobile parts...

hair brushes
and electronic equipment.

They say I can sell anything.

I'd like to try
to sell something to you.

Valhalla, Mr. Beale.

Please sit down.

You have meddled with the primal forces
of nature, Mr. Beale...

and I won't have it!

Is that clear?

You think you merely stopped
a business deal.

That is not the case.

The Arabs have taken billions of dollars
out of this country...

and now they must put it back!

It is ebb and flow, tidal gravity.
It is ecological balance!

You are an old man...

who thinks in terms
of nations and peoples.

There are no nations.
There are no peoples.

There are no Russians.
There are no Arabs.

There are no Third Worlds.
There is no West.

There is only one holistic system
of systems!

One vast and immane,
interwoven, interacting...

multi-variant, multinational
dominion of dollars!

Petrol dollars, electro dollars,
multi-dollars.

Reichsmarks, rins, rubles, pounds
and shekels!

It is the international system
of currency...

which determines the totality
of life on this planet.

That is the natural order
of things today.

That is the atomic...

and subatomic...

and galactic structure
of things today.

And you have meddled...

with the primal forces of nature!

And you will atone!

Am I getting through to you?

You get up on
your little 21-inch screen...

and howl about America
and democracy.

There is no America.

There is no democracy.

There is only IBM and ITT...

and AT&T...

and Du Pont, Dow, Union Carbide...

and Exxon.

Those are the nations
of the world today.

What do you think the Russians
talk about in their councils of state?

Karl Marx?

They get out their
linear programming charts...

statistical decision theories,
minimax solutions and compute...

price-cost probabilities of their
transactions and investments like we do.

We no longer live in a world
of nations and ideologies, Mr. Beale.

The world...

is a college of corporations...

inexorably determined...

by the immutable bylaws
of business.

The world is a business.

It has been since man
crawled out of the slime.

And our children will live,
Mr. Beale...

to see that...

perfect world...

in which there's no war or famine...

oppression or brutality.

One vast and ecumenical
holding company...

for whom all men will work to serve
a common profit...

in which all men will hold
a share of stock...

all necessities provided...

all anxieties tranquilized...

all boredom amused.

And I have chosen you, Mr. Beale...

to preach this evangel.

Why me?

Because you're on television, dummy!

Sixty million people watch you...

every night of the week,
Monday through Friday.

I have seen the face of God.

You just might be right, Mr. Beale.

That evening Howard Beale
went on the air...

to preach the corporate cosmology
of Arthur Jensen.

Last night I got up here and asked you
to fight for your heritage...

and you did,
and it was beautiful.

Six million telegrams were received
at the White House.

The Arab takeover of CCA
has been stopped.

The people spoke, the people won.

It was a radiant eruption
of democracy.

But I think that was it, fellas.

That sort of thing is not likely
to happen again...

because at the bottom
of all our terrified souls...

we know that democracy
is a dying giant...

a sick, sick, dying,
decaying political concept...

writhing in its final pain.

I don't mean that the United States
is finished as a world power.

The U. S is the richest,
most advanced country in the world...

light-years ahead
of any other country...

and the Communists won't take over the
world because they're deader than we.

What is finished...

is the idea that this great country...

is dedicated to the freedom and
flourishing of every individual in it.

It's the individual that's finished.

It's the single, solitary human being
that's finished.

It's every single one of you
out there that's finished.

Because this is no longer a nation
of independent individuals.

It's a nation of some 200 million
transistorized, deodorized...

whiter-than-white,
steel-belted bodies...

totally unnecessary
as human beings...

and as replaceable as piston rods.

Well, the time has come to say...

is "dehumanization"
such a bad word?

Whether it's good or bad,
that's what is so.

The whole world
is becoming humanoid...

creatures that look human
but aren't.

The whole world, not just us.

We're just the most advanced,
so we're getting there first.

The whole world's people
are becoming mass-produced...

programmed, numbered and...

It was an admissible argument
that Howard Beale...

advanced in the days that followed.

It was, however,
also a very depressing one.

Nobody particularly cared to hear
his life was utterly valueless.

By the end of the first week
in June...

the show dropped
one ratings point...

and its trend of shares
dipped under 48 for the first time...

since last November.

You're his goddamn agent, Lou!

I'm counting on you to talk sense
into the lunatic!

Nobody wants to hear about
dying democracy and dehumanization!

I'm sorry I'm late.

We're getting rumbles from the agencies.
The sponsors will bail out soon!

This is a breach of contract!

This isn't the Howard Beale we signed.
Get him off the corporate universe kick.

I'll pull him off the air!

I told him! I've been telling him
every day for a week!

I am sick of telling him!
Now you tell him!

Jesus Christ!

You could help me with Howard. He
listens to you. You're his best friend.

I'm tired of all this hysteria
about Howard Beale!

Every time you come back from seeing
somebody in your family...

you're in a morbid,
middle-aged mood!

And I'm tired of finding you on the
goddamn phone every time I turn around!

I'm tired of being an accessory
in your life!

I'm tired of pretending
to write this dumb book...

about my maverick days
in the early years of television.

Every goddamned executive fired
from a network in the last 20 years...

has written this dumb book about
the great early years of television!

And nobody wants a dumb, damn,
goddamn book...

about the early days of television!

Terrific. Maybe you can start
a whole new career as an actor!

After living with you for six months,
I'm turning into one of your scripts!

This is not a script.

There's some real, actual life
going on here.

I went to visit my wife today
because she's in a state of depression...

so depressed that my daughter
flew from Seattle to be with her...

and I feel lousy about that.

I feel lousy about the pain
that I've caused my wife and kids.

I feel guilty and conscious-stricken and
those things you think sentimental...

but which my generation called
simple human decency.

And I miss my home...

because I'm beginning
to get scared shitless.

Because all of a sudden it's closer to
the end than it is to the beginning...

and death is suddenly
a perceptible thing to me...

with definable features.

You're dealing with a man
that has primal doubts...

and you've got to cope with it.

I'm not some guy discussing male
menopause on the "Barbara Walters Show."

I'm the man that you presumably love.

I'm part of your life.

I live here.

I'm real!

You can't switch
to another station.

Well...

what exactly is it
you want me to do?

I just want you to love me.

I just want you to love me,
primal doubts and all.

You understand that, don't you?

I don't know how to do that.

I'll be with you in a minute, Max.

By the first week in July, the
"Howard Beale Show" was down 11 points.

Hysteria swept through the network.

He's a plague! He's smallpox!
He's typhoid!

I don't want to follow his goddamn show!
I want out of the 8:00 spot.

I've got enough troubles
without Howard Beale as a lead-in.

You guys scheduled me up against
"Tony Orlando and Dawn"!

NBC's got "Little House on the Prairie."
ABC's got "The Bionic Woman."

You gotta do something
about Howard Beale!

Get him off the air!
Get him off!

Do something! Do anything!

We're trying to find a replacement! I'm
going to look at audition footage now!

And how when the sick heal!

Man, I tell you I saw it!

It was heavy, baby.

I saw the earth quake...

and I saw the moon became like blood.

And every mountain and island
was moved from its place.

No, no, damn it! If we wanted hell-fire,
we'd get Billy Graham!

We don't want faith healers, evangelists
or Oberammergau passion players!

What about that terrific new messiah
ABC was to sign for our competition?

That's him.

That's him?

Jesus. Turn him off!

I've got three more,
but you've already seen the best ones.

I've got a guru from Spokane...

and two more hell-fires
who see visions of the Virgin Mary.

We're not gonna find a replacement
for Beale. Let's stop kidding ourselves.

Fully-fledged messiahs
don't come in bunches.

We either go with Howard Beale
or we go without him.

My reports say we'll do better
without him.

It would be disaster to let
this situation go on another week.

By then he'll be down 16 points...

and the trend irreversible,
if it isn't already.

I think we should fire Howard.

Arthur Jensen has taken
a strong personal interest...

in the "Howard Beale Show."

I'm having dinner with him tonight.

Let me have another crack at Jensen.
Meet in my office at 10:00 tonight.

Diana, give me copies of all
your audience research reports.

I may need them for Jensen.

Is 10:00 convenient for everyone?

I think the time has come
to reevaluate our relationship, Max.

So I see.

I don't like the way this script of ours
is turning out.

It's turning into a seedy little drama.

Middle-aged man leaves wife and family
for young, heartless woman, goes to pot.

"The Blue Angel" with Marlene Dietrich
and Emil Jannings.

- I don't like it.
- So you're gonna cancel the show.

- Right.
- Let me do that.

The simple fact is, Max...

that you're a family man.

It's beautiful you like a home and kids,
but I am incapable of such commitment.

All you'll get from me is another
couple of months of intermittent sex...

and recriminate and ugly little scenes
like the one we had last night.

I'm sorry for all those things
I said to you last night.

You're not the worst fuck
I've ever had.

Believe me, I've had worse.

You don't puff or snorkel
and make death-like rattles.

As a matter of fact,
you're rather serene in the sack.

Why is it that a woman always thinks
that the most savage thing...

she can say to a man
is to impugn his cocksmanship?

I'm sorry I impugned your cocksmanship.

I gave up comparing genitals
back in the schoolyard.

You're being docile as hell
about this.

Hell, Diana, I knew it was over
with us weeks ago.

Will you go back to your wife?

I'll give it a try,
but I don't think she'll jump at it.

Don't worry about me.

I'll manage. I always have,
I always will.

I'm more concerned about you.

You're not the boozer type.

So I figure a year, maybe two,
before you crack up...

or jump out of
your 14th floor office window.

Stop selling, Max.
I don't need you.

I don't want your pain! I don't want
your menopausal decay and death!

- I don't need you, Max! Get out!
- You need me!

You need me badly! Because I'm
your last contact with human reality.

I love you!

And that painful, decaying love
is the only thing between you...

and the shrieking nothingness
you live the rest of the day.

Then don't leave me.

It's too late.

There's nothing left in you
that I can live with.

You're one of Howard's humanoids.
If I stay with you, I'll be destroyed.

Like Howard Beale was destroyed.

Like Laureen Hobbs was destroyed.

Like everything you and the institution
of television touch is destroyed.

You're television incarnate.

Indifferent to suffering...

insensitive to joy.

All of life is reduced
to the common rubble of banality.

War, murder, death...

are all the same to you
as bottles of beer.

And the daily business of life
is a corrupt comedy.

You even shatter the sensations
of time and space...

into split seconds
and instant replays.

You're madness, Diana.

Virulent madness.

And everything you touch
dies with you.

But not me.

Not as long as I can feel pleasure...

and pain...

and love.

And it's a happy ending.

Wayward husband
comes to his senses...

returns to his wife...

with whom he's established
a long and sustaining love.

Heartless young woman left alone
in her arctic desolation.

Music up with a swell.

Final commercial.

And here are a few scenes
from next week's show.

How'd it go?

Mr. Jensen was unhappy at the idea
of taking Howard Beale off the air.

Mr. Jensen thinks Howard Beale
is bringing...

a very important message
to the American people.

So he wants Howard Beale on the air,
and he wants him kept on.

Mr. Jensen feels we're too catastrophic
in our thinking.

I argued that television
was a volatile industry...

in which success and failure
were determined week by week.

Mr. Jensen said he did not like
volatile industries...

and suggested with a certain
sinister silkiness...

that volatility in business
usually reflected bad management.

He didn't really care if Howard Beale
was the number one show or the 50th.

He didn't really care
if the Beale show lost money.

He wants Howard Beale on the air...

and he wants him kept on.

I would describe his position on this
as inflexible.

Where does that put us, Diana?

That puts us in the shithouse.
That's where that puts us.

Do you want me to go through this?

The Beale show Q score
is down to 33.

Most of this loss occurred in the child
and teen and 18-34 categories...

which were our key core markets.

It's the AR department's carefully
considered judgment, and mine...

that if we get rid of Beale, we should
maintain a respectable share...

with a comparable Q level.

The other show segments, Sybil the
Soothsayer, Jim Webbing, Vox Populi...

have all developed
their own audiences.

Our AR reports show that it is Beale
that is the destructive force here.

Minimally, we're talking about...

a ten-point differential in shares.

I think Joe oughta spell it out
for us.

A 28 share
is 80,000 dollar minutes.

I think we can sell complete positions
on the whole.

As a matter of fact, we're just getting
into the pre-Christmas gift-sellers...

and the agencies are coming back to me
with four-dollar CPMs.

If that's any indication, we're talking
$40-$45 million loss in annual revenues.

- Want the flak from the affiliates?
- We know all about it, Herb.

You would describe Mr. Jensen's position
on Beale as inflexible?

Intractable and adamantine.

What do we do about this Beale
son of a bitch?

I suppose we'll have to kill him.

I don't suppose you have any ideas
on that, Diana?

Well...

what would you fellas say
to an assassination?

I think I can get
the Mao Tse-tung people...

to kill Beale for us
as one of their shows.

In fact, it'll make a hell of
a kick-off show for the season.

We're facing heavy opposition on the
other networks for Wednesday nights...

and the "Mao Tse-tung Hour"
could use a sensational opener.

It could be done right on camera
in the studio.

We oughta get a fantastic
look-in audience...

for the assassination of Howard Beale
as our opening show.

If Beale dies...

what would our continuing obligation
to the Beale Corporation be?

I know our contract with Beale
contains a buy-out clause...

triggered by his death
or incapacity.

There must be a formula for
the computation of the purchase price.

Offhand, I think it was based on
a multiple of 1975 earnings...

with a base period in 1975,
which I think was 50 percent...

of salary, plus 25 percent
of the first year's profit...

multiplied by the unexpired portion
of the contract.

I don't think the show...

has any substantial syndication value,
would you say, Diana?

Syndication profits are minimal.

We're talking about a capital crime.

The network can't be implicated.

I hope you don't have any hidden
tape machines in this office, Frank.

The issue is,
shall we kill Howard Beale or not?

I'd like to hear
some more opinions on that.

I don't see we have any option.
Let's kill the son of a bitch.

Ladies and gentlemen,
let's hear it!

How do you feel?

We're mad as hell...

and we're not gonna
take this anymore!

Ladies and gentlemen, the "Network
News Hour" with Sybil the Soothsayer...

Jim Webbing and his
It's-the-Emmes-Truth Department.

Miss Mata Hari
and her skeletons in the closet.

Tonight another segment
of "Vox Populi."

And starring the Mad Prophet
of the Airways, Howard Beale!

...network news anchorman
on the UBS "Network News Show"...

known to millions
as the Mad Profit of the Airwaves...

was shot to death tonight in
a fusillade of automatic rifle fire...

just as he began
this evening's broadcast.

We never compromise,
so why should you?

Canada Dry Mixers.
Why compromise?

Have you seen the other side
of where you live?

- What's this stuff?
- Some cereal. It's good for you.

- Did you try it?
- I'm not gonna try it. You try it.

I'm not gonna try it.

- Let's get Mikey to try it!
- Yeah!

He won't eat it.
He hates everything.

The extraordinary incident occurred in
full view of his millions of viewers.

The assassins were members of
the Ecumenical Liberation Army...

two of whom were apprehended.

The leader of the group known
as the Great Ahmed Khan escaped.

This was the story of Howard Beale...

the first known instance of a man who
was killed because he had lousy ratings.