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A briefing memo obtained by The Times appears to support former Rep. Katie Porter’s accusation that a Tom Steyer staffer leaked a video of her yelling at an employee, an outburst that tainted her gubernatorial prospects when the video became public.

The video, which was obtained in October by Politico, showed Porter erupting at a staff member who appeared in the background of a prerecorded Zoom call between the former congresswoman and then-Energy Secretary Jennifer Granholm.

During a nationally televised interview on CNN by Dana Bash on Monday, Porter accused the Steyer campaign of leaking the damaging video.

“I am confident that is the case,” Porter said after Bash asked how she knew Steyer was the source. “I’ve been told by many people it’s a Department of Energy video, it was only held by the Department of Energy, and people can follow the trail to who his campaign staffers are and understand what happened there.”

Following the CNN interview, Steyer’s campaign denied that the candidate was involved with the leak.

Gubernatorial candidate Tom Steyer hosts an “LA Block Party” campaign event Wednesday at East Los Angeles College in Monterey Park. Rocky Mosse, 9, waits his turn for a photo with Steyer.

(Robert Gauthier/Los Angeles Times)

“Tom has nothing to do with that video,” Steyer campaign spokesperson Sepi Esfahlani said after Porter levied the accusation on Monday. “This is an attempt from Katie Porter to deflect from her past mistakes. Katie Porter only has one person to blame for her standing in the race, and it’s herself.”

According to a briefing memo from the meeting obtained by The Times, Steyer spokesman Kevin Liao was listed as an “expected participant” on the video call between Granholm and Porter, which took place on June 21, 2021, and was filmed to promote electric vehicles by the Biden administration. Granholm and Liao were the only participants listed from the Energy Department, according to the document obtained by The Times.

“This is a 20 minute recorded Zoom with Energy Secretary Jennifer Granholm to discuss the importance of investing in electric vehicles,” the document apparently prepared for Porter and her staff states. “Kevin Liao, Granholm’s press secretary, reached out to set this up. His team will edit this video down into a 2-3 minute clip for social media. Secretary Granholm will have a whiteboard, as noted in the script.”

The edited video conversation was posted on the U.S. Department of Energy’s Facebook page in early July 2021. Politico reported that the Porter staff member snapped at by the congresswoman was not the source of the video provided to the news outlet.

The clip from the Porter-Granholm call was the second unflattering video of the candidate to surface last fall. Days earlier, another clip began to circulate, showing Porter threatening to end an interview with CBS California reporter Julie Watts after becoming frustrated by Watts’ questioning.

U.S. Secretary of Energy Jennifer Granholm speaks during the UNFCCC COP29 Climate Conference in Baku, Azerbaijan, in 2024.

(Sean Gallup / Getty Images)

The pair of videos prompted her Democratic rivals in the gubernatorial race to question Porter’s temperament, a criticism that has continued to linger during debates and throughout the hotly contested campaign. Though Porter became well-known for her blunt questioning of witnesses in Congress, her brusque style has not translated to broad support in California’s 2026 governor’s race.

Before the videos became public, Porter had a narrow edge in the race, according to a poll by UC Berkeley’s Institute of Governmental Studies, though many voters at the time remained undecided. Though Porter has continued to hover in the upper tier of gubernatorial hopefuls, she currently trails behind two Democrats — Steyer and former Biden cabinet member Xavier Becerra — and one Republican, former Fox News host Steve Hilton.

The UC Irvine law professor has repeatedly said she apologized to the employee, who spent four more years working in Porter’s congressional office. Dozens of former staffers also came to her defense in an open letter last month.

Liao declined to comment when reached Wednesday evening. He is a primary spokesman for Steyer’s campaign and sent the press release announcing the San Francisco billionaire’s campaign for governor in November. Granholm, when reached via text message, denied leaking the video and said she did not know who did.

According to his LinkedIn profile, Liao, a Los Angeles-based political consultant, worked as Granholm’s press secretary from January through October 2021, during the time the Porter video was recorded. In 2024, he founded Frontrunner Strategies, a consulting firm which has been paid more than $45,000 by Steyer’s campaign, according to campaign finance records.

Porter’s campaign declined to comment on the document.

Voting is underway in the primary election to replace Gov. Gavin Newsom, who is term-limited and exploring a 2028 presidential bid.

A Wednesday Emerson College poll showed Democratic former U.S. Health and Human Services Secretary Xavier Becerra leading with 19%, followed by both Republican former Fox News host Steve Hilton and Steyer at 17%. Riverside County Sheriff Chad Bianco, a Republican, had support from 11% of likely voters and Porter had 10%. San José Mayor Matt Mahan, former Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa and state Supt. of Public Instruction Tony Thurmond were in single digits. Twelve percent of voters were undecided, according to the poll.

Top candidates, with the exception of Thurmond, are slated to appear in a Thursday night debate hosted by CBS California and the San Francisco Examiner.

“All the President’s Men” was released 50 years ago this month, an anniversary that’s been greeted with equal parts rue and reverence by the journalists, political junkies and discerning cinephiles who have worshiped the film for five decades.

As a member of all three of those constituencies, I’ve done my share of genuflecting, most recently as chief film critic at the Washington Post, whose city room was as vivid and fully realized in the movie as Robert Redford’s Bob Woodward and Dustin Hoffman’s Carl Bernstein.

Like so many Posties of my generation, I’ll never forget the so-real-it’s-surreal experience of walking into the fifth-floor newsroom for the first time in 2002. By then, standard-issue electric typewriters and six-ply carbon paper had been replaced by far less visually interesting computers. But the office’s pervading atmosphere of hard work and quiet focus felt uncannily similar to its big-screen analog.

For the last two years, I have been researching a book about the making of “All the President’s Men,” whose production involved almost as many contingencies and unresolved questions as Watergate itself. Among the film’s many mysteries, one I’ve found particularly intriguing has to do with Katharine Graham, publisher of the Washington Post and CEO of its parent company during the Watergate investigations. As the movie amply demonstrates, it took guts for Woodward and Bernstein to persevere with their reporting in the face of terrified sources and their own growing paranoia. But, unbeknownst to many observers at the time, Graham was enduring even more withering pressures, with determination that was all the more impressive for being almost entirely invisible.

I’m still in the process of discovering why she remained invisible in “All the President’s Men.” For now, it’s clear that the backstory is more nuanced than mere oversight or, as many are quick to assume, simple sexism.

In fact, William Goldman’s first script of the film featured a sequence with Graham and Woodward, a scene that appeared in every subsequent draft. Based on an actual meeting between the two, it’s a cagey game of cat-and-mouse, with the publisher taking the measure of a nervous, still-inexperienced journalist, looking for reassurance that his reporting will prove out.

Earlier this year, at a January staged reading of “All the President’s Men” at Harmony Gold Theater in Hollywood — a fundraiser for the Stella Adler Academy — it was possible for fans to conjure what might have been. Mark Ruffalo played Woodward and Ethan Hawke played Bernstein in a version of the movie assembled from different Goldman drafts.

A high point of the evening was when Ruffalo and actor Susan Traylor brought the Graham-Woodward scene to tentative, tense and teasingly playful life. After grilling Woodward about his sources and coyly asking him about Deep Throat’s identity, Traylor’s Graham asked him if the truth about Watergate would ever be revealed. “It may never come out,” Ruffalo’s Woodward replied. “Don’t tell me ‘never,’” Graham laments, before bringing the meeting to a close with a gently peremptory “Do better.”

In poring over director Alan J. Pakula and Goldman’s papers, I’ve probably read that scene dozens of times. But when I heard it play out in real time, I was ambushed by the emotions it stirred — a mixture of pride in Graham’s legacy and deep sadness at how that legacy has been so inexplicably ignored in recent years.

I was also sad that Redford, who died in September, wasn’t there. He often expressed regret that Graham wasn’t a featured character in “All the President’s Men.” Keenly aware of how her spine and steadfastness made Woodward and Bernstein’s work possible, he wanted to honor that crucial support. When I interviewed him for the first time in 2005, he insisted that fearless owners were every bit as important in preserving democracy as the reporters he and Hoffman helped glamorize.

Over the next two decades, every time I saw Redford, he bemoaned the “downward slide of this thing,” by which he meant the constellation of institutions “All the President’s Men” celebrates: not just journalism and a robust First Amendment but a Washington where investigators, prosecutors, judges, the Senate and Congress did their jobs regardless of partisan loyalties, and a Hollywood where a studio as mainstream as Warner Bros. would agree to finance a tough-minded film about a contentious and still-raw period in recent history.

Granted, that film was based on a bestselling book and anchored by two huge stars. But today, with political and corporate leaders — including media companies — falling over each other to curry favor with President Trump, “All the President’s Men” feels like an artifact from a vanished age.

Nowhere is this more distressingly true than at the Post itself, where the newsroom immortalized by the movie has been slashed by more than a third, and where Jeff Bezos, who bought the paper in 2013, seems intent on erasing Katharine Graham’s legacy until it vanishes completely. During the first Trump administration, Bezos stood up to threats against the Post and the press at large that would make Nixon blush, or at least pea-green with envy.

Now, Bezos has become a one-man meme of what author Timothy Snyder calls “obedience in advance,” quashing an endorsement of Kamala Harris, ostentatiously grinning his way through Trump’s second inauguration, vastly overpaying for a promotional film about First Lady Melania Trump and staying conspicuously mum (at least publicly) when a Post reporter’s home was raided by the FBI in January.

All of this has come at an enormous moral and material cost, with thousands of readers canceling their subscriptions and an alarming number of the Post’s finest reporters and writers leaving for other publications and platforms. As my former boss Marty Baron told my former colleague Ruth Marcus in the New Yorker in February, Bezos’ turnaround has been “sickening” to witness: “a case study in near-instant, self-inflicted brand destruction.”

Of course, that brand was built, in no small part, by “All the President’s Men,” which taught a generation how to walk, talk, dress and act like real reporters. (Hint: A good corduroy jacket and a pen in your mouth can’t hurt.)

In 1976, Pakula was interviewed about his dealings with Graham, whom he admired tremendously and with whom he would become close friends. “I could do a film about the Katharine Graham story,” he enthused. “It’s a superb story.”

Thirty years later, Steven Spielberg would bring Pakula’s idea to fruition with “The Post,” about Graham’s decision to publish the Pentagon Papers, a dress rehearsal for the even higher stakes of Watergate a year later.

“The Post,” which starred Meryl Streep in a shrewdly judged performance of aristocratic assurance and creeping insecurity, premiered in Washington less than a year into Trump’s first administration. Bezos attended that screening, which many of us saw as tacit acknowledgment that he was taking her lessons in character, comportment and competence to heart.

That was clearly wishful thinking. Graham may have finally assumed her rightful place in the newspaper-movie canon, but we’re still left to ponder her absence from the most iconic journalism movie of the 20th century.

It’s no longer the shoe-leather reporters who need a big-screen tutorial in how to do their jobs. It’s their bosses. A simple place to start would be to memorize the best two-word speech to never appear in a major motion picture: Do better.

Ann Hornaday was a film critic at the Washington Post from 2002 to 2025, when she retired. “All the President’s Men” plays at TCM Classic Film Festival Saturday at 2:45 p.m.

SACRAMENTO — In a rare action, a legislative staff member has filed a complaint charging Democratic Assemblyman Roderick Wright of Los Angeles with assaulting him and threatening to break his jaw in an alleged dispute over a gun bill.

Staffer Geoff Long filed the charge with the Assembly Rules Committee on Thursday night against Wright, a freshman legislator who represents a district in South-Central Los Angeles.

Capitol veterans said the formal complaint may be the first of its kind filed with the committee.

Long, chief consultant to the Assembly Appropriations Committee and a legislative employee for 15 years, said Wright pushed him by the shoulders against a wall Wednesday and then threatened three times to break his jaw.

The altercation occurred after a Wright bill on gun safety was defeated by the Appropriations Committee, which attached amendments to the measure. The amendments came from the committee’s staff and Wright was apparently angered by them, Long said.

In an interview several hours before the complaint was filed, Wright refused to say whether he and Long had a confrontation. “If Mr. Long has a grievance, he should file it,” Wright said.

Wright insisted he never “‘confronted” Long and said, “There is nothing that has occurred, that I am aware of, that I would call physical.”

Wright did not return calls Friday seeking comment.

Long said Wright “erupted” when he attempted to discuss the defeat of the bill, which dealt with safety standards for firearms.

“Shut up or I’ll break your [expletive] jaw. I will. I will do it,” Long said Wright told him.

Long said the incident occurred in a hallway near the Assembly chambers and was witnessed by Betty Yee, also a committee staffer, who filed a statement with the Rules Committee in support of Long’s complaint.

Jon Waldie, chief administrative officer of the Assembly Rules Committee, which governs internal affairs of the lower house, confirmed that Long had filed a complaint. But Waldie declined to make the document public, saying the dispute is a confidential personnel matter.

Waldie said he was uncertain how to proceed because no one could recall a similar case.