All language subtitles for Death.Valley.Days.S12E15.The.Paper.Dynasty.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+2.0.H.264-bigworm_track3_[eng]

♪♪ [Waltz]
[Chattering]

All right, everybody,

let's lift them up there

for the new United States
Senator from California,

George Hearst.

Thank you, friends.
Thank you.

And thank you, Michael,

for not saying
"Old United States Senator."

[Others laugh]

Well, Willy, what do you think
of the old man now?

Not much.

Huh?

Not much more than
I've thought about you

all my life, Dad.

[Laughs]

Well, Senator, what about
those campaign promises?

I'll give them the best I have
in Washington, Willy.

I don't mean Washington.
I mean me.

You said, if I pitched in
at campaign headquarters,

I could name
my own price.

That I did.

And you were a big help, son.

Now, what is your price?

The San Francisco Examiner.

The paper?

You want the paper?

[Laughs]

But you'd be jumping
on a sinking ship, Willy.

I'd like to try and save it.

I'm afraid
the Senator's right, Willy.

The paper's lost
a quarter of a million dollars

in the last seven years.

Then what harm can there be?

Look, dad.

I learned the newspaper
business from one of the best,

Joseph Pulitzer.

San Francisco is going to be

one of the most important
cities in the country one day,

and it needs a newspaper
just as important.

All right, Willy,

the Examiner's yours.

If you don't show a profit,

I'll sell it.

Thanks, dad.
I'll make it work.

Well, I'd like to offer
a toast, Willy,
to your good luck,

but I'm afraid
it wouldn't do any good,

not with the Examiner.

[Chuckles]

I wouldn't count on it,
Mr. Tarpey.

I'm going to take that paper
and pop new life into it.

I'm going to give it
not only a mouth,

but a heart and a pair of hands
that will reach out

for every man, woman, and child
in the bay area

with a pair of eyes
and a penny to pay for it.

♪♪ [Theme]

Howdy, folks,
I'm the Old Ranger.

When the famous pioneers
came out to the west,

they carved their names
in history

in solid gold and silver

while others built
cattle and land empires,

but at only 24 years of age,

William Randolph Hearst

was well on his way

to engrave his name forever

in the paper dynasty.

Well, here it is,
Mr. Hearst,

your first edition.

Well, what do you
think of it, Sam?

It's good.

Well, you're not exactly
turning handsprings over it.

It's just--

well, the Examiner's
on its last legs, Mr. Hearst.

You came along just in time
for the wake.

What kind of talk is that,

coming from
a good newspaper man like you?

This paper isn't dead,
not until the presses stop,

and I plan
to keep them rolling.

There are people
out there, Sam,

hungry for news,

starved for excitement,

the frightened ones,

the lonely ones,

the bitter,

the rich, the poor.

Look at them, Sam.

I'll bet only one out of ten

have as much as $5
in their pocket.

But they all have a penny,
the price of the Examiner,

and that's who we're after,
Sam-- the people.

By the way,
I want some map tacks.

Map tacks.

Sure.

What's the current
circulation?

Almost 24,000.

16,000 are paid.
The others are giveaways.

From now on, there will be
no more giveaways.

We'll make them
want to buy this paper.

Who would you say is the most
read columnist in town?

Ambrose Bierce.

Right, and I'm getting him
over here with us.

He won't come cheap.

I don't expect him to.

Bierce is a wild man,
you know.

Doesn't care
who he steps on.

Well, he's honest.

He writes it
like he sees it.

Wasn't too long ago that
this whole part of the country

was one vast wilderness.

It took guts to carve
a hunk of civilization
out of that.

Bierce has guts.

And from now on,
so does The Examiner.

[Knock on door]

[Cocks gun]

Yes?

Mr. Bierce?
Mr. Ambrose Bierce?

That is correct.

I'm from The San Francisco
Examiner.

I'm very sorry.
I'm not buying any
subscriptions this evening.

[Chuckles]
I didn't come here to sell.

I came here to buy.

Just what do you want,
young man?

I'm very busy.

I want to speak to you.

I would say that's
what you're doing.

Now, what is it?
My time is valuable.

How valuable, Mr. Bierce?

The examiner will pay you
twice what you're getting now

to write for us.

[Scoffs]
If it weren't so tragic,
your offer would be funny.

I keep it handy.

I sometimes have irate readers
of my column

breathing fire at my door
in the middle of the night.

Now, young man,

is Mr. Hearst aware
of your running around

with these vertiginous
proposals?

I'm sorry
I didn't introduce myself.

I'm William Randolph Hearst.

Now, let's talk.
Shall we?

[Bierce]
Only two days ago,

"across the bay in Oakland,

that eminent merchant of mud
Hiram Higgins

once again succeeded

in pulling the wool
over his neighbor's eyes

by selling the city used
and moth-eaten blankets

long since discarded
by the army."

"On Saturday night,

that darling
of the social world,

Mrs. Eustace
Montgomery Lemond,

presently of Nob Hill,

formerly of a doubtful origin,

a saloon girl
in Virginia city,

threw a bang-up party

for some debuted tramps

at her plush pink mansion."

"It is rumored
that the eminent equestrian

Kenneth hodgson,

known to us commoners

as the saddle bum
with the clean shirt,

won a vast sum of money

from his dearest friends.

He ran a horse in the race

that was really a ringer,

imported for the purpose
from Denver.

The horse was appropriately
named 'fleecer.'

shame, shame, shame."

[Knock on door]

[Hearst]
Come in.

I sure hope the insurance
company doesn't drop us.

Another law suit?

Two more--

defamation of character suits
again.

Kenneth Hodgson,
Hiram Higgins.

What happened to you?

Mrs. Eustace Montgomery
Lemond.

She thought
I was Ambrose Bierce.

She swings a mean parasol.

Maybe we'll sue her.

Bierce is doing
a sensational job, Mr. Hearst,

but he's making nothing
but enemies for us on Nob Hill.

Good. It's about time
their ears pinned back.

The more screams that go up
from Nob Hill,

the more cheers will go up
for market street,

and that's where
the people are, Sam.

Just proves we need
more features

like Bierce's column.

See what you can come up with.

By the way,

circulation shot up
another thousand this week.

Fine.
Excuse me, Mr. Chamberlain.

Have you given it
any thought--

now, Miss Sweet,
I've told you a dozen times
already--

what is it, Sam?

This young lady's
been pestering me

for a job for two weeks.

She won't take no
for an answer.

Well, she shows determination.

It's a novelty
in women nowadays.

Let's talk to her.

Mr. Hearst,
this is Miss Sweet,
Winifred Sweet.

Miss Sweet.

How do you do?

Won't you sit down?

Thank you.

So you want a job.
What have you done?

Mr. Hearst,

I'm really an actress,

and I got stranded here
two weeks ago.

That's all I've done since
I've been out of school,

been on the stage.

A showman heard me
sing "Annie Laurie"

in a high-school play once.

He hired me.

Been on the road ever since.

What makes you think
you can write for a newspaper?

Well, I gave some of my pieces
to Mr. Chamberlain.

They weren't bad.

Style's a little unorthodox,

strictly a woman's
point of view.

A woman's point of view.

That might not be a bad idea.

Miss Sweet,

a writer should write about
what he knows best.

What do you think
you know best?

People, I guess.

What kind of people?

Oh, sales girls,

hairdressers, housewives,

policemen,

just average,
everyday people.

The competition doesn't have
a girl reporter, Sam.

She could be the answer
to that extra feature
we're looking for.

You've been on the stage,
right?

You know
how to entertain people,

how to make them laugh,
make them cry.

Do you think you could do that
in your writing?

Oh, I'm sure I could.

I'd-- I'd write about
what they were feeling.

Exactly.

Reach out to them.

Become one of them.

Let them cry
on your shoulder.

Laugh with them,
get sore with them.

Sob with them,

become a sister to them.

That's it.
Become a sob sister.

Put her on, Sam.

You-- you mean I'm hired?

As of this minute.

Sam, show her around.

[Chuckles]

That's no good.

Well, the name--
it's no good for a byline.

It'll have to be changed.

I have it.

It got you started
in one business.

It can get you started
in this one.

From now on
you're Annie Laurie.

Annie Laurie.

Sob sister.

[Laughs]

Sam, I want you to rush
every available reporter
to the fire.

The del monte hotel
is a landmark,

and I want it covered
from every conceivable
point of view.

Yes.
Hire a special train
if you have to,

but get everybody there,
including the artist.

I want them to capture
on-spot reactions

of the horror, the loss,
the tragedy.

Now, move.

Bierce, I want you to try
to come up with the cause
of the fire,

the hotel's background,
the famous guests
who stayed there, etcetera.

Fine.

Annie, you get the human side.

Talk to the maids,
the janitor, the guests,

but give me what they feel.

Yes, sir.

[Annie]
"The hotel guests
watched the fire

in stunned silence,

but not Margaret McMartin,

chambermaid for the del monte

for over 20 years.

Maggie, as they call her,

wept openly.

The hotel
wasn't just a job to her.

It was part of her life,

and now it was burning,

consumed in flames."

[Bierce]
"The famous del monte hotel
in monterey

has burned
for three days now,

and still there is
no official cause reported."

Wires, Mr. Hearst.

Telegrams from the governor,
the mayor,

commending the paper
on the del monte coverage.

They did a great job, Sam.

Bierce, Annie, the artist.

You, too. You put it together
in excellent taste.

Oh, thank you, Mr. Hearst.
Sending that special train
to monterey

was an idea that's
never been done before.

We've always relied
on delayed reports.

Delayed reports
are no good, Sam.

The world's changing,
getting faster.

Newspapers have to keep up
with what's happening

and try to be there
to report it.

How did this
affect circulation?

It shot up to 40,000,
all paid.

40,000 out on the streets!

In a year, we've more
than doubled circulation.

Here's the bill for the train
and expenses for the staff.

It's pretty high.

Sam, we've doubled
circulation!

Do you realize what that'll
mean when I tell the Senator?

So what?

So you doubled
the circulation.

But, in that one year,

the paper shows a net loss
of $300,000.

It took me seven years
to lose only $250,000.

But dad--
is that how Joe Pulitzer
taught you to run a paper?

You don't see
his New York world
in the red.

And he didn't make it
a success overnight, either.

Look, dad, there are
40,000 people out there,

reading The Examiner.

40,000. I've raised
the advertising rates,

and they're standing in line
for the space.

We're getting
national recognition,

strength, respect.

At $300,000,

that kind of respect runs
too rich for my blood.

Mr. Tarpey, you help
put my father in office.

Tell him the value
of the Examiner.

Willie,
this is a family thing.

No, it isn't.

Dad's a good Senator.

He's proved himself
in Washington,

and California
needs him there.

The Examiner
can keep him there.

He's got a point there,
Senator.

I don't need a newspaper
or anyone else

to fight my battles.

You're wrong.

They're going to send
a strong man up against you
next time at bat.

And you're going to need
The Examiner as much

as California needs you.

Is that all?

I'm a good newspaper man.
I know I am.

I have plans.
Big plans.

A newspaper isn't
just a business.

It's a public servant.

A responsibility.
People depend on it.

Their whole lives
are affected by it.

It's part of them,
and it's all of me.

What do you want
from me, Willie?

Another year.

Just 12 more months
is all I ask,

and I'll have it
on a paying basis.

All right, Willie.

One more year.

I want all this to run in
all the editions tomorrow, Sam.

You may have to set the type
in asbestos, for this one.

"Railroad hoax.

The Examiner wants
to go on record

in stating that
the railroad combine

is reaching into
the pockets of the people."

You're not serious
about this?

Dead serious.

But the railroads--
this'll lose us

some of our biggest
advertisers.

We'll have to risk it.

The railroad people...

They're very close friends
of your father.

The Senator will never
stand still for this.

I can't help that.

I have to do
what I think is right
by the people.

You know what those
railroad men are up to.

Sure. Everybody does.

But they don't
put it in writing.

The Examiner does.

I've called you here to make
an official announcement.

This paper belongs
to the people.

You've heard me say that
time and again.

The people,
San Francisco,

The Examiner is declaring war
on the railroads.

I've always wanted
to do some big game hunting.

Now's your chance.

I want the facts,
all of them.

The deals being made,
the backroom meetings.

Annie, I want you to find out
how the man on the street feels

about his pocket being picked.

The housewife,
the bootblack.

I want pictures
of the railroad barons

as they really are.

The first shot
is being fired tomorrow.

After that,
it's all out war.

Get to it.

[Knock on door]

Come in.

It's Mr.--
Willie!

Are you out
of your mind, Willie?

About what?
About this!

The Senator went
right through the roof
when he read that.

I know. I've received
three wires from the Senator,
in as many days.

Well, then,
in heaven's name, man, why?

Because that's the way
I see it.

The people are behind us
all the way.

We've got a petition demanding

that the railroads repay
the money they've borrowed.

A petition?

What good are a couple
of thousand names?

A couple of thousand?

There are exactly 194,663.

Nobody's going
to walk over this town

without a cry of protest
going up,

and that cry is going to come
from The Examiner.

Will, you've got your neck out
a country mile.

They're all voters,
Mr. Tarpey.

Almost 195,000 of them.

You tell that
to my Father.

I'll tell him.

For whatever
it's worth, Willie,

good luck.

Well, we lost
another big account

with that last editorial.

Well, it's too late
to back out now, Sam.

But it is time
we gave our readers something
a little more pleasant.

Any ideas?

Well, it'll be spring soon.

We could have Annie do a feature
on the silly new fashions.

Oh, we need something else.
Something different.

What about Sarah Bernhardt?

She's touring
the United States now.

Yeah, I thought about that,

but she won't be
in San Francisco

for another month.

Take San Francisco to her.

Pardon?
Why not?

We'll send along
two of our best feature writers

to travel with her.

People want to know
about Sarah Bernhardt,

what she has for breakfast,
where she buys her clothes,

how she feels about love,
politics.

They'll eat it up.

But sending two writers
out on the road
to cover a story--

that's never been
done before.

The expense.

You get the story.

I'll worry about
the expense.

[Patriotic music]

[Speaking French]

[Speaking French]

Tonight...

For the one and only
Sarah Bernhardt,

I shall prepare
the most magnificent
crepe suzette,

with a taste admirable.

[Speaks French]

Yes.

But how did you
know about it?

I've read it in the paper.

Excusez-moi.

They all know you,
Miss Bernhardt,

and they all love you.

San Francisco is yours
to wear like a...

Another Jewel
in your tiara.

Monsieur Hearst,
your Examiner...

All those people
have read about me?

Those nice things
Miss Laurie wrote--

these and 200,000 more.

And I must thank you,
Miss Bernhardt.

Me? Why?

For the thousands
of new readers you gave me.

The Examiner
is the biggest newspaper

in all of San Francisco.

I don't care
if it is the biggest paper
in San Francisco.

Look at this
balance sheet!

We've got more advertising

than we've got
the space to handle.

And circulation keeps going up.
The paper's a success.

Who can afford
this kind of success?

But Senator--
in two years,
you've managed to go

three quarters
of a million dollars
in the red

besides ostracizing me from
some of my closest friends.

You call that success?

The paper's worth a lot more now
than it was two years ago.

At least we'll be able
to salvage something
when we sell it.

Sell it?

Sell The Examiner?

It's a losing proposition,
Willie.

All I'm asking is for
$50,000 working capital

to run us a few months,

and then it'll finally
be on a paying basis.

Willie, you know how I am
about making a deal.

My whole life,
my whole career,

is based on
my keeping my word

and being just as firm
in making others keep to theirs.

It's not just the money.
It's...

It's a philosophy.

We made a deal.
I've got to stick to it.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, son.

[Sighs]

That was pretty rough, George.

A deal's a deal.

Well-- [clears throat]

I guess I better
come back later

to talk to you
about the campaign.

No, no, no.
Let's do it now.

All right, George.

Now, the opposition means
to get you out.

Well, this campaign
is going to be a lot tougher

than the first one.

You'd better drag out
your checkbook, George.

[Chuckles]
I've got to skin me a cat,

two ways.

[Sighs]

Well?

They turned us down.
No cash, no paper.

We've got presses
but nothing to print on.

That's it, then.

The last edition
goes out tomorrow morning.

Then we put it to bed...

For good.

Willie?

We'll both be out
of jobs tomorrow,

so I guess I can
call you "Willie" now.

You could have called me that
any time you wanted to.

We wanted you
to know that

if you could have kept
the presses rolling,

we'd have worked for nothing
till things straightened out.

That's a fact.

If there's anything
we can do...

You've already done it.
Thanks.

I'd say
"The Examiner thanks you,"

but you are The Examiner.

Ambrose?

Keep that typewriter
sharpened.

And Annie,
you keep them sobbing.

Thanks to you both.

Say, what is this?

Been reading too much
of your own stuff lately, Annie.

Yeah, I guess so.

Uh, excuse me for
barging in like this,

but the advertising department
seems to be closed.

The editorial department
is about to join it.

I've got to buy
some space.

Sorry,
we can't accommodate you.

We have the space
but no paper to put it on.

Gee, that's too bad.

I've got to start
a political campaign,

and I'm starting out
with a check for $50,000

for newspaper advertising.

50 thou--

tarpey, does the Senator
know about this?

Not yet,
but he will.

Don't worry.
I'll handle that
when the time comes.

Annie, Ambrose,
what are you waiting for?

Show the nice gentleman
to the advertising department.

Right this way, sir.

I didn't recognize you
without your beard.

What did you do
with your reindeer?

[Laughs]

[Both laugh]

We're back in business, Sam.

Say, whatever happened
to those map tacks

I asked you for
two years ago?

They're right there
in that little box.

San Francisco
is only beginning, Sam.

The Hearst papers
are going to branch out

all over the United States.

Los Angeles...

New York...

Boston...

Texas...

It's only the beginning, Sam.
Only the beginning.

[Old ranger]
William Randolph Hearst
was a man of his word.

He didn't stop with
The San Francisco Examiner

but went on to establish
his newspapers

throughout the country.

And today,
his communication services

not only include newspapers
but magazines, T.V.,

and radio stations
throughout america.

Hearst proved he was a pioneer
in his own right,

and today,
his empire is a monument

to his courage
and determination.