BigJeffLebowski Blog

Early in the film All the President's Men, Editor of the Washington Post Harry M. Rosenfield (Jack Warden) tells reporters Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein (Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman) that "Charles Colson, special counsel to the president, has a cartoon on his wall. The caption reads 'When you've got 'em by the balls, their hearts and minds will follow.'" This could just as easily apply to the film; All the President's Men grabs viewers with its first shot -- an extreme close up of a typewriter banging out the date -- and, without the use of the gratuitous histrionics of most thrillers, doesn't let let them go until its close.

All the President's Men tells the story of Woodward and Bernstein, the reporters who broke the Watergate scandal and followed the story all the way through. The two fought to get the scoop, fought to tell the story, fought to find the truth, and then fought to get it published. (There was a lot of fighting, as you can tell.) The film is based on the book they went on to write which detailed the endeavor, and neither the book nor the movie brush up the relationship they had. Woodward is the new guy with the story, and Bernstein is the established reporter who wants in. Bernstein doesn't muscle in very discreetly, either. He boorishly takes Woodward's article and rewrites it, explaining that it lacks an effective news story structure.

From that point on, they are working together -- almost against each other, really -- each one trying to get the better scoop before the other. Once they've got some hard evidence, they pass it on through the executive staff headed by Ben Bradlee (Jason Robards, in a role that won him an Oscar) and into the public consciousness. They face a lot of opposition: they can't get people on the phone, the paper is wary of printing their articles, and they are constantly directed in circles by their sources. The only person who gives them any salient information is Woodward's mysterious and (until recently) unidentified informer Deep Throat (Hal Holbrook).

Alan J. Pakula built a name for himself directing intelligent thrillers like Klute and The Parallax View. With All the President's Men, he uses his prowess to consistently hit all the right notes in telling a truly absorbing and suspenseful story. He is known to nuance his films and imbue as many accurate details as possible, and one of the most striking aspects of the film is how well we come to know the characters simply through their environment. The only time we see them at home, for instance, is asleep in a messy room about to be woken up by a phone call that will draw them back out to work. Another fine example is the presence of editor Harry M. Rosenfield. Early on in the film, he constantly looms in the frame, looking over the two reporters; as the film progresses, however, his presence is reduced to the point that he is only on screen when it comes to publishing time.

That sense of detail and deliberation continues into the acting. The entire cast is perfectly chosen and deliver some of the best performances of their respective careers. Jason Robards gives a third dimension to what could easily have been a place-holder role with Ben Bradlee, and his Oscar is well-deserved. He plays the poker-faced executive editor to perfection, only letting emotion slip out in a knock on a desk or a single clap as he walks away.

Many people will see this movie to learn about the Watergate scandal. They are wrong in doing so. This film, intentionally and smartly, never acts out the events of the scandal itself. The only time we see Nixon -- or really any political figure -- is on television through stock footage. The film is about Woodward and Bernstein, not Nixon, and wisely jumps right from the final verification and completion of their story to Nixon's resignation (presented to the audience as facts-only copy in a closing montage) to the credits. This is not shorthand filmmaking, but rather astute understanding of the film's focus; in All the President's Men, when Woodward and Bernstein's story is over, there's nothing left to tell.