When I first watched All the President’s Men (Alan J. Pakula, 1976) as a child, I didn’t know what the hell was going on, or why it resonated so much with me, but I have no doubt that it put me on the path I am on today. Cut to me visiting my dad’s office at age nine, wandering around and pestering him to go home. He then put me on a bean bag in a storage room with what I knew to be a 15-rated thriller about a criminal president and ambitious young reporters whose lives were in danger. I couldn’t have been happier. Though it is a complex plot, the retelling of the story of the two reporters who uncovered the Watergate Scandal in All the President’s Men is inspiring and thrilling.
Every time I rewatch this film I’m transported to that day on the bean bag, but I see new things and get a better understanding of the political history it depicts and the essential role that the media plays in making the actions of our leaders as transparent as they should be. It is an extremely accurate portrayal of the investigation by Washington Post reporters Bob Woodward (Robert Redford) and Carl Bernstein (Dustin Hoffman) that eventually led to the resignation of President Richard Nixon in 1974. It is possible, however, that due to the excessive representation of the journalistic process, this film may be unappealing to some who are looking for a more conventionally Hollywood-styled political thriller. However, I think that a very fine balance is reached between dramatizing events and perfectly depicting America’s political history in the early 1970s. The film’s realism persists down to the little details, such as the cameo by Frank Wills, the actual security guard who re-enacts his discovery of the break-in to the Democratic Party headquarters in Watergate, Washington.
Without delving into the private lives of Woodward and Bernstein, Redford and Hoffman managed to pull off gripping and emotive performances that will have your palms sweating and you fearing you’ll be bundled into a white van by guys in suits on your next trip to the shops. Instead of hammy melodrama, as is often seen in other films that deal with complex conspiracies, their performances are honest and true. Though there are no action sequences or car chases, this perfect partnership makes All the President’s Men the all-time classic conspiracy-based political thriller. These powerful performances of two real people deserve more recognition.
The raw and urban aesthetic reeks of iconic 1970s America. The cold cinematography mirrors the heroes’ paranoia and the production design couldn’t be more accurate to the period, although it helps that the film was made only a few years after Watergate actually happened. There are countless subtly designed sets throughout the film that tell us who the characters are without them having to utter a word about themselves, leaving the film free to tell its story, creating a vibe like none other. For instance, in locations such as Bernstein’s apartment, musical instruments and books lay strewn about and a curious bike wheel sits by his office desk, helping us learn about this messy but productive character. We see the continued influence of the set design and costumes in Zodiac (David Fincher, 2007), where the similarity between the newsrooms is uncanny. Other films such as The Post (Steven Spielberg, 2017) and Spotlight (Tom McCarthy, 2015) show the continuation of this style of journalistic thriller. The Post takes place a mere year before Watergate and even involves the same newspaper.
If I hadn’t watched All the President’s Men, I would have no passion for writing, and this article wouldn’t exist. It inspired me to get a typewriter and take up writing short stories as a hobby and even sometimes review films. It is a truly special movie that reminds me of the most carefree and innocent time in my life, and has never failed to inspire me to pick up where I left off on an unfinished story or script. Just as Woodward or Bernstein would make a breakthrough on a source, I would solve character arcs and invent plot devices. My views on this film remain positive and consistent at every viewing, whether it’s at two in the afternoon or at the crack of dawn. It’s a masterful production that deals with the core message of holding power to account, and does so in a tasteful and intimate way. It doesn’t hurt that this message is more relevant today than ever.
