Flashback: All the President’s Men

I’m doing a journalism writing course this semester at University, and on Wednesday our lecturer made us watch Pakula’s 1976 All the President’s Men. It’s a fine example of journalists at work since the adaptation is so devoid of the most obvious Hollywood-ization that most true-stories have today – sometimes, I must admit, to my exasperation.

Hoffman and Redford are two of the most conventionally “seventies” actors and the idea of them working each other is spirited. The thing, the best thing about All the President’s Men is also the worst thing about it. In its staunch upholding of the truth it seems to be devoid of characters, which is – incidentally – what makes me such an admirer of Hoffman and Redford here. They have little to work with, but they make it work excellently. I like Redford, but even at his best I always like him with reservations. And, he’s not at his best here – but he’s good. 

The two manage to make simple interviews come off as well acted arcs; the best of which occurs opposite Jane Alexander in a head-scratcher supporting actress nomination. She’s much better than the role, but it’s still one of the oddest acting nominations I can recall. Oddly, Robards, with a similarly small role manages to carve something much more indelible. No, not worthy of that Oscar, but oftentimes one of the highpoints of the film reminding you that these are real people and not just the means to an end in bringing down a government.

        

Like so many films that retain that quintessential feeling of Americana I often wonder how much more I’d like All the President’s Men if I was an actual American. To its credit, though, what emerges loudest from the narrative is not a pride that is nationalistic but journalistic – garishly, at times. Just like many would say that Saving Private Ryan offers a ferociously authentic look at war All the President’s Men does the same for journalism – although not ferociously. It’s content with showing the unglamorous nature of the job.

This is perhaps what makes the film itself sort of paradoxical for me. It doesn’t maintain the major tenets of the cinema, it’s palpably a non-fiction piece but yet its cinematic aspects are excellently done, its cinematography and score for example – though unobtrusive in both cases – is excellent. But, remember that adage about things not being as good as the sum of their parts? I get that distinctive feeling with All the President’s Men. It’s a fine example of filmmaking that is immediately admirable, both for its cinematic attributes and for the way it pushes boundaries with the form of storytelling – the screenplay is a beauty. But, there’s something distinctly cold about it, soulless even – but I still won’t deny that it’s a fine film.

          

What do you think of Pakula's film?