All language subtitles for Graves s01e07 The Careless Giant.eng

Previously on "Graves"...

I'm so glad we found each other, Olivia.

- (gasps)
- Olivia, stop! Come on, let me ex...

I just want to be anyone
else for one fucking moment.

The Rockefellers want a mediation.

Margaret: What haven't
you told us, honey?

Dr. Schwartz:
Mrs. Graves, you have a son

- with unsolved issues of his past.
- This one's for you.

Reporter: This is Martin
Treadwell's first release request

since his attempt
on the president's life.

Jeremy: Why would I worry? It's
not like this hasn't stuck to me.

Sammy, I like you.

Are you okay?

Yeah.

This is all new territory for me.

Brand-new.

- What?
- (laughs)

Nothing.

Nothing.

I just...

I like the way you look at me.

It's like you found
a unicorn or something.

- Robert: Isaiah.
- Oh, shit!

- Kitchen, now.
- I'll sneak out.

- Good idea.
- Okay.

(door opens, closes)

We should have gone to the coffee shop.

Oh, a little trust, sir.

You know, a latchkey kid learns
to either cook or starve,

so my mom taught me on the weekends.

Mmm.

You know, of all
the French mother sauces,

I think hollandaise is my favorite.

- Turn that up.
- Oh, sure.

...construction to go through his lands.

After two decades of legal challenges,
a federal appellate court

has ruled that Route 124,
the Richard Graves Highway,

named in honor of New Mexico's
former governor and president,

can begin construction through
the Hennepaw tribal lands

using the government's
eminent domain powers.

This ruling has barred
any further appeal.

You got a highway named after you.
Congratulations.

I never asked for it.

Reporter: How do you and your
people feel about this action?

The American government
authorized this highway

to trespass on tribal territory

in clear violation
of our existing US treaties.

This is an act of war.

Pratt.

- Pratt. I know that name.
- Oh. Well...

- Oh, my God, sir.
- What?

40 years ago,
as a US federal prosecutor,

Richard Graves prosecuted and
convicted Harlan Pratt for murder

following a fire at the
Albuquerque federal building.

Pratt's alleged arson was
responsible for two deaths.

Harlan Pratt's son, okay, Russell,

is an activist member
of the Hennepaw tribe.

The Pratt conviction
galvanized support for Graves.

The conviction...

Read on.

The Pratt case was widely
seen as a political move

by then Prosecutor Graves who,
when running for governor,

rode the conviction to a victory.

Most see the questionable
conviction on weak evidence

as essential to what would
become his eventual presidency.

Harlan Pratt alleged
he'd been railroaded,

claims that went unheard as Pratt
hanged himself in his jail cell

just four days before his appeal.

That guy on the news...

Russell Pratt, sir.

That's Harlan's son.

Find him.

(theme music playing)

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- (door buzzes)
-
Won't slow down

So I got your letter.

Thank you for coming

to meet me before the hearing tomorrow.

We actually met before
once when I was five

and then in, like, hundreds of
nightmares over the last 23 years.

So I want you to know
that I did want to see you

before I sat in front
of the parole board

to make sure that you never,

ever get out of here.

(chuckles)

Why?

There is no answer that I can give you

that would make any kind of sense.

What I know now is that Richard Graves

was a great president and the
sick young man who shot him...

My father. Shot my father.

Who shot your father
is not someone I recognize.

But the hardest part
about what I've done

has been all the collateral damage.

Especially my mom.

And now she's dying.

And I need to say good-bye,

to explain that this
has not been her fault

and that I'm so sorry.

(exhales)

That will never happen.

-
To do.

Ms. Graves acted without hesitation

when she poured bleach on
your late father's portrait?

Yes.

She said that I had hurt
something that she loved,

so she was going to hurt
something that I loved.

Allred: And what exactly did she love?

Well, I had slipped and accidentally
spilled a glass of red wine

on a photo of her and Justin Timberlake.

That was a gift from Justin

when I did "The Mickey Mouse
Club" at the White House.

William: The wine glass shattered.

I needed surgery on my thumb
to repair the nerve damage.

Still hurts when it rains
or if I push a button.

Allred: And what about the
incident at your home

in Aspen, Christmas 2013?

We were arguing on the way there.

Olivia kicked me out
of the car and took off.

- And where did you go?
- I walked.

About four miles or so.

It was snowing. Blizzard, actually.

After a mile, my legs gave out.

An Amish family found me.

Hypothermia, frostbite, of course.

Both thumbs basically useless.

Rehab helps.

Ultimately, Your Honor,
my client alleges

that Olivia Graves was
pathologically incapable

of true human intimacy

because it was impossible
for her to feel empathy

or to feel love.

Mr. Rockefeller assumed
that these were emotions

that she never learned.

You are out of line, Gloria.

- Maggie.
- Mrs. Graves.

- We need a break right now.
- Ahem.

Judge, give me a moment, please.

(children shouting)

Mr. Pratt, may we come in?

(speaking quietly)

My grandfather wants
to know why you're here.

The highway through the reservation.

The Richard Graves Highway.

A final insult to my family.

I didn't name that road, but
I want to help you stop it.

Out of guilt?

No, the highway's wrong.

Breaks at least two US treaties.

1868 for starters.

Now, I broke them both drilling for oil.

You broke just about everything.

(sighs)

I can't do anything about the past,

but I can do something about the future.

Now, look, the US government
is a careless giant.

I can talk to it

because I was once a giant.

Go and don't come back.

You know, just because
they can't see past the past

doesn't mean that
we can't still help them.

Do you remember Moscow, sir?

Gorbachev, he didn't want
to come to the table,

so you twisted every arm
that held him up

until they snapped at the elbow.

Exactly.

Exactly, Isaiah.

You're getting it now, this path I'm on.

A second chance. Yes, Isaiah.

That's right.

(phone ringing)

(ringing, buzzing)

- It's me.
- Olivia, thank God.

I'm so happy to hear your voice.

I've been calling you, texting you.

I wanted to answer, I swear I did.

I spoke to my family back in Mexico.

They warned me to stay away.

Okay, does family mean drug people?

- (gun clicks)
- Olivia...

Yeah, see, that's weird.

God, I'm a president's daughter.

- You're a drug dealer.
- We are who we are.

And I don't care what anybody
says, you are what I want.

But how can you be so sure about us?

I mean, Jesus, I don't even
know if I'm capable of love.

Of course you are.

Love is understanding. It is acceptance.

And that is what you've shown me since
the moment we met at your ranch.

Who knows what we are,

but I will take the risk if you will.

(music playing)

Isaiah: Working the phones, it's
the perfect next step, sir.

- Jesus, it's another goddamn voice mail.
- Okay.

- (tone beeps)
- W., Graves here.

Listen, I need to talk to you.

I'm having a hell of a time
down here over a highway.

- (tone beeps)
- Kissinger, why, you old creep.

Give a shout. I need to talk to you.

- (tone beeps)
- Baker, Graves here.

How you doing, James?
Please call me back. Bye-bye.

You know, I really have a lot
of respect for James Baker,

but he's not as connected
as he used to be.

As in at all.

I know what we do.

Drive, we're going into town.

It's like a convention for the
depressed by association.

(laughs)

- Hmm, kill that smile.
- What?

Every phone in here has a direct line

to the loony bin down the road.

Is everybody staying here visiting
someone at the insane asylum?

Or they're about to check in.

Fuck, fuck, let's talk marketing.

You feeling down?
Do you know a convicted felon?

Do you... do you enjoy the dulcet tones

of desperate weeping
and psychotic screams?

(laughs)

You are so offensive

and yet somehow it's endearing.

That's basically me in a nutshell.

I'm Tasha.

Jeremy.

Mm.

So who do you know on the inside?

Do you remember that greengrocer

from Ann Arbor, poisoned
all the ears of corn?

The fucking Cornhusker?

Always hated that name.

Jesus. So many died.

There was, like, the four
generations of that family

at their big picnic reunion thing.

Gone.

That grocer is my sweet,
churchgoing dad.

You know, my father murdered thousands.

I mean, not directly, but still a
shitload of blood on his hands.

You know, the fucked-up thing is

Dad was on a day-to-day
basis a great dad.

Sure, when he wasn't
poisoning people's corn.

Yeah.

With all the respect
in the world, Mr. President,

I mean, what part of the title

Deputy Assistant
Secretary of Transportation

suggests to you that
I have any decision-making

or changing powers?

Don't bullshit me. You know
how to make decisions.

You make a decision,
people jump on board.

Yeah, the president's made some calls.

Calls to some very important people.

But clearly you understand
how the system works

and we're under a bit of a time crunch.

Now, I want to get this done fast.

I don't want that
goddamn road in my name.

People driving down the Richard
Graves Highway to Hell.

The highway is a massive job creator

and I can assure you, sir,

that the Hennepaw
will be fairly compensated.

It's eminent domain.

We've eminent domained
an entire population

out of their own country.

And now we're chipping away
at what little they have left.

Is that right, Nurbin?

Is it?

Make the call now.

Well, shit.

Ms. Graves, in February of 2013,

did you intentionally
drive your Range Rover

into Mr. Rockefeller's Aston Martin?

Yes.

And then in May of that same year,

did you throw a priceless
Ming vase at my client

because he declined your offer
to be intimate with you

in a certain very painful position?

Yes.

And just last year,

did you storm into
a boardroom in a negligee...

Yes, okay? Yes, Gloria Allred.

Yes to all of it.

Judge, can I have a minute
to confer with my client?

No, thank you, Jacob.

- Okay, what are you doing?
- Ending this.

Jesus, I mean, from the
moment I met you, Billy,

I thought we were right for each other.

Because we came from the
same place, the same things.

We understood each other
like soldiers in a foxhole

who get home from it all and realize
that they don't have anything in common.

Neither of us really wanted this.

It felt expected.

And maybe you're right.

Maybe I was incapable
of loving my husband.

But loving him or anyone was
never really expected of me.

But that's starting to change

because you know what?

Little Livy burned up in a fire

and the soon to be ex-Mrs. Rockefeller

is fucking a Mexican drug dealer

for whom love is expected
and probably required.

I'll sign whatever you want.

And I don't want a penny of his money.

Just be happy.

Okay?

(nickering)

Richard: The highway's a done deal.

It'll pass right through your land, yes,

but now with a higher payment.

Twice as much.

(people murmuring)

You say you want to help,
but you don't know how.

If you are willing, I will show you.

(music playing)

We drink the tea to summon the spirit.

If you are true, the Creator
will show you the way.

Oh.

Thank you.

Ooh, smells delicious.

Oh, bitter. Funny.

That's definitely not a chamomile.

Is it a Chinese oolong, maybe?

Interesting, though.

Ooh, definitely nauseous.
That's curious.

- Peyote.
- What?

- Jesus, peyote?!
- (tea splashes)

Sir, that's a schedule one narcotic.

Of course. What the hell else
did you think this was about?

Oh, my God!

- (breathing heavily)
- Mom? Mom, where...

Oh, my God. Mom, breathe.

Mom, come here. Just sit down.

Keep breathing. Just breathe.

(sobbing)

Just like you always taught me.

(breathing heavily)

Okay. It's okay.

I just think I ate something
that didn't agree with me.

Or learning who your daughter really
is made you literally nauseous.

Don't say things like that, Olivia.

God damn it, I hate when you do that.
I know who you really are.

- (sighs)
- Okay.

I'm sorry.

Well, you're a mess.

(sniffles)

(exhales)

Did I push you into that marriage?

I mean, ish.

Tell me how to help you.

If I want something

and it's important to me,

then that has to be okay.

Because otherwise
I'm never gonna be happy.

I need to be free.

Look...

I know I was a total bitch about it,

but I think you're gonna
be a kick-ass senator.

(chuckles)

So call that woman
in the sensible skirts...

- (laughs)
- ...and you tell her

that your answer is hell fucking yes.

(sighs)

Fight the man, Maggie.

(phone chiming)

Hi.

It wasn't oolong, Sammy.

I mean, I only had a couple sips,

but still it's a schedule one narcotic.

I mean, I'll never pass
a high security clearance

if I ever want to work
at the state department.

I barely recognize myself, you know?

I mean, I'm cuddling with this goat

who seems to be okay with it, you know?

Wait, wait, wait. A goat?

Wait, what are you talking about?
Where are you?

I don't know.

I mean, maybe I could drop
a pin and you could come?

(music playing)

(coyote howls)

Richard's voice: Harlan Pratt.

I knew you'd come.

Harlan: Sometimes the
battle is already lost.

Sometimes it's just standing on the side
of what is right that is important.

(gun clicks)

Richard's voice: Treadwell.

(blowing)

(gunshot)

(crickets chirping)

Samantha: I still can't believe this.

I'm really sad, Sammy.

Truth is,

you should be sad, too.

Why?

You know why.

Iz, just lay back down and we'll
wait this out together, okay?

- Together?
- Yeah.

We're never gonna be together.

What?

Iz, you're tripping.

You don't get it.

What... what is there to get?

I thought we were just having fun.

- I don't...
- Exactly, yeah, fun.

We're never really gonna be together.

I'm gonna be a congressman

or a secretary of state
or even president, Sammy.

All this, all this on you, the tattoos,

you know, the piercings,
the life you've lived,

the conservative world I live in.

Come on.

(scoffs)

Are you serious right now?

You know, what would people say?

Here, keep drinking this
until you stop spinning.

Wait, wait. Where are you going?

Fuck you.

(music playing)

(panting)

This is the best mental hospital

serial killer dad visit ever.

Oh, man.

Okay, so you seriously...

you never knew who your dad was?

Nope.

Wow.

I mean, yeah, I guess
I didn't always think

my dad was a narcissistic
asshole either.

So you're the angry man-child.

Oh, I'm sorry. I thought
we'd been introduced.

- (laughs)
- Yeah, that's me.

"You will not be punished
for your anger,

you will be punished by your anger."

Come on, don't fucking
quote Buddha. God.

You know, our fathers,

they do what they can
with what they're given.

You don't actually believe that, do you?

I have to.

Why?

Because if it's not them, it's us.

Do what's right tomorrow at
the Treadwell parole thing.

(laughs) Okay.

Yeah, you want to tell me
what the hell that is?

(sighs)

Whatever you need it to be.

(birds chirping)

Russell, your father

was a good man.

You need to know this.

And as far as the
government and this road,

I have no power.

But I can offer you something.

I will stand with you

against the giant.

(music playing)

Freedom, kid... the absence of fear.

(clicks tongue)

Richard: In 1872,

we consigned the Hennepaw
to this reservation.

We took their land.

We broke what spirit they had left.

Now we're about to break
our last promise.

So now I ask the government,

which I once ran,

to please take my goddamn name

off this road and stop it.

(engine starts)

Reporter: Despite peaceful
protests by the former president,

construction will move
forward as planned.

The one concession
the government has made

is that they will remove
his name from the highway.

Annie: I don't know
how to spin this one.

Margaret, your husband
looks like he's gone

left-wing radical with what he's doing.

I don't need you to tell me
what my husband's doing.

You're here to advise me
what to do next.

Tell me the right person
is standing beside me, Annie.

- She is.
- Good.

Here's what's gonna happen.

Have Lawrence call Martin Bashir.

Make Martin think it's his idea to do
a profile piece for "America 360."

We are gonna manage the message
up until the exact moment

I'm standing at a podium
to announce, understood?

Uh-huh.

You've been telling me for weeks now
this train has got to leave the station.

Fine, we're leaving.

And I'm driving.

This guy's a monster, okay?

He's a sick man who gave up his rights

the moment he even thought about
pointing a gun at my father.

The fact that I was just a little boy,

that I witnessed it,
that's just collateral damage.

His mother shouldn't die
thinking that what he did

was in any way her fault.

She did nothing wrong.

So let him tell her that.

Let him give her some peace.

Ahem.

And then stick a fucking needle
in his arm, please.

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