NIXON: Blu-ray reissue (Hollywood/Cinergi, 1995) Kino Lorber
On the heels of
his controversial JFK (1991),
director, Oliver Stone tackled an even more ambitious, and, unfairly maligned
presidency, with Nixon (1995); at
times, critical, though, arguably, partisan, even intermittently compassionate
toward this extremely complicated individual and his impact on the American
political landscape. In the years since Watergate, the game of politics has
grown far uglier and more ruthless. And yet, Richard Nixon remains the
celebrated piƱata for the liberal left to bash at will and whim with affected
glee. Yes, the highest office in the land was tainted by a third-rate burglary.
And yet, spying has been almost a prerequisite of politics since its inception.
Would it make the ‘liberal left’ jeer as loudly – if at all – to recall deities
from their own camp - F.D.R., J.F.K. and Barak Obama - as guilty of similar
offenses? But back to Richard Milhous Nixon.
Am I defending the man or his methods? Certainly not – and there is
little to deny if Nixon had it to do all over again, he likely would not have endorsed,
then feigned zero culpability for the disastrous break-in at the Democratic
headquarters in Washington.
Miraculously, Oliver Stone casts no aspersions on Nixon – the man. Nor
does he shield him from his failings, both as a President and as a human being.
I suspect the
chief difficulty most critics had with Nixon
– the movie – is that it wasn’t JFK.
There is no ‘Magic Bullet’ theory to
debunk, no assassination coup to resolve, no mystery being explored and/or exploited
this time around. Or is this entirely true? For Nixon was as complex an enigma
if ever one held public office. His resignation in the face of almost certain
impeachment created a stain on the presidency unlike anything before or since.
It also left a perpetual bullseye on Nixon’s back for the rest of his life and
far too many unanswered – or perhaps, unanswerable questions. Why, for example,
install tape-recording devices in the White House if what was being recorded
was never meant to leave 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.? Could the President truly have been so naĆÆve
or hell-bent on ego that he failed to see how anything discussed, even casually
and unrelated to matters of ‘national security’, could – and would – be
misconstrued by the mainstream press and his political opponents as clandestine
plotting? And who tipped off security at the Watergate Hotel about Howard Hunt
and his cronies burglarizing the Democratic offices? No, those who would dismiss Watergate and
Nixon as mere addendum – nee, blemishes – in history, as inescapably painful
as Kennedy’s thought-numbing assassination - though for different reasons,
eventually incurring anger in place of remorse – would have overlooked a
fundamental truth about Richard Nixon that Oliver Stone exposes with his
inimitable clairvoyance as investigatory pseudo-history; that Nixon could never
be quantified or dismissed as a mere embarrassment, if for no other reason,
than much of what he had put into place during his presidency has since given
rise to an era in politics appropriately known as ‘the age of Nixon’ with consequences and fallout far-reaching
within the political machinery to this very day.
Nixon – the movie – is a meticulously researched,
ambitious, probative and ultimately heart-breaking critique of an as defective,
zealous, and, single-minded political creature. No one can – or should – chide Richard
Nixon on his accomplishments in foreign affairs. Yet, he constantly lived in
the shadow of Jack Kennedy and, increasingly, allowed self-doubt, fear and pity
to color his political thinking. For this, and other indiscretions unearthed in
Stone’s brilliantly conceived film, Richard Nixon paid the ultimate price;
sacrificing his reputation and opening himself up to endless public
humiliation, effectively to dismantle whatever legacy remained. Ultimately, it
also broke the man down to bedrock. Even today, generations of Americans
misguidedly regard the Nixon presidency as little more than a national
discomfiture and a very sad epitaph to a man who ‘had greatness within his grasp’, only to watch it all slip away.
And yet, in his emeritus years, Nixon rose like a phoenix from these ashes to
become Washington’s honorary – if closeted – statesman to whom virtually every
president since his time, until his death in 1994, consulted on international
diplomacy. There is no denying his prowess as a political strategist. Few
presidents have had more raw instinct and moxie than Richard Nixon.
And praise too,
to Nixon’s formidable achievements in foreign policy, working closely with
Secretary of State, Henry Kissinger to bypass all the ‘red tape’ and improve relations with both China and the Soviet
Union; in the process, heralding a new era of Sino-American relations. Indeed,
Nixon shocked the nation with the announcement he would visit communist China in
the winter of 1972. In a spirit of ‘full
disclosure’, publicly Nixon used TV to bring this message of diplomacy to
light. In private, it immensely pleased him to deny print journalists similar
access to his agenda. Indeed, the then reigning mandarins in print media had
had it in for Richard Nixon even before his presidency, and would continue to, without much integrity to journalistic ethics, spew open
contempt for the man and his methods. Nixon’s detractors would be the first to
pounce on his record in Vietnam, a quagmire that, but for an untimely
Presidential assassination, would have been Kennedy’s cross to bear. Instead,
Nixon was chronically blamed for the staggering 300 American G.I. deaths per week.
While Nixon abhorred the protesters against America’s involvement in the war,
regarding them as slovenly and disrespectful, he nevertheless made the
impromptu effort to engage a contingent of these same draft dodgers and hippies
on the
steps of the Lincoln Memorial, who viewed him as an anathema to their message
of free love and flower-powered peace.
Many also forget
Nixon’s secret bombing campaign of the North Vietnamese in Cambodia (a campaign
that, by some accounts dropped more bombs than the Allies did during WWII) was
an extension of a policy already begun under Lyndon Johnson; Nixon, hardly its
architect, and also, for a brief moment thereafter, championed as a ‘bold, decisive move’ by the Wall Street
Journal and Washington Post. In hindsight, which is always 20/20, it is far too
easy to simply condemn Richard Nixon for following this ensconced protocol of
his era, rather than going his own way – as though, it was easy to reroute the
direction of international affairs with the wave of a hand. And Nixon was not
easily swayed, and could be intractable, particularly when forced into a
corner; a personal failing to crest during the Watergate incident. But in
response to the floodgates of protest at home, Nixon did attempt to broker a
peace between South and North Vietnam, gradually replacing the U.S. military
with a North Vietnamese presence. To
some extent, the first crack in the Nixon presidency was the publication of the
leaked ‘Pentagon Papers’ – detailing
a web of deceit spun primarily by prior administrations and providing a
timeline for the U.S.’s involvement in Vietnam. Convinced by Kissinger the leak
was harmful to his own presidency, Nixon tried to suppress their publication in
the New York Times and Washington Post, but was overruled by the Supreme Court
– the inference being, Nixon had something else to hide. The press had a field
day. What other secrets was the
President burying under the guise of ‘national security’?
At the same
instance, another part of Nixon’s past continued to haunt his present; his
backing President Kennedy’s decision to initiate 1961’s Bay of Pigs; also, his
support during 1962’s Cuban Missile Crisis. In truth, the Soviets sincerely
feared Nixon would jeopardize this tentative peace established by Kennedy and Khrushchev.
And yet, it can almost safely be said Nixon, while loyal to the Cuban exiles,
always had his eye on the grander positioning of America’s supremacy on the
world stage. Therefore, another potentially crippling crisis in Cuba was not
worthy of his time or efforts. Instead,
Nixon sought to escalate his negotiations with the Soviets on nuclear
disarmament with two landmark ‘arms control’ treaties signed. Meanwhile, in the
Middle East, Nixon avoided direct U.S. combat assistance, while greatly
increasing arms sales to Israel, Iran and Saudi Arabia. As a direct result, the
Arab coalition attacked Israel and Nixon ordered an airlift to resupply Israeli
casualties, taking personal responsibility for the fiasco. In the famed superpower
crisis that grew out of this incident, Nixon engaged in a somewhat dangerous
game of chicken with the Soviets, resulting in Soviet leader, Brezhnev
eventually backing down.
I may seem to be
delving too deeply into history for ‘art’s
sake’, but it often becomes an occupational hazard when discussing Oliver
Stone’s movies; particularly those dedicated to two of the most high-profile
American presidents in U.S. history. And
Stone, while touching upon virtually all of the aforementioned snafus swirling
around the Nixon White House, is rather disinterested – at least directly – in
their politicized outcomes and fallout; instead, intensely focused on the
personal consequences impacting the man making these heady decisions. Nixon is about the man, the genuineness
of his sacrifices and his absorbingly fatal flaws that make him all too
fallible and easily ascribable as one of history’s most notorious scapegoats.
Nixon’s triumphs have been obfuscated by Watergate. So, Stone addresses the
scandal head on, though not necessarily as the story’s centerpiece or focus;
rather, using Watergate as bookends to regress the audience into the not too
distant past. We meet the impoverished boy of a green grocer from Whittier,
California, who toughs out the loss of two brothers to tuberculosis, and,
arguably, lives in the shadow of his mother’s stringent piety, with the
constant belief he has failed to live up to her Quaker principles in the
political arena.
If only Nixon had been a hit with audiences, we
might have had more politically-driven masterpieces from Oliver Stone. Indeed,
in tone alone, Nixon is superbly
evocative and engrossing as a classic Median tragedy. Alas, and despite a big
marketing push, the film only took in a paltry $2.2 million in 514 theaters on
its opening weekend – an embarrassing gross by any barometer; its final tally
of $13.6 million falling well below the $44 million it cost to produce. As with
JFK, controversy dogged Nixon almost from its inception;
although, unlike JFK, the negative
press did not convince the public to run out and see the picture. Stone was
heavily chastised for representing both the President and Pat Nixon as chronic
alcoholics; Nixon, also shown abusing prescription medications; incidents Stone
based on research acquired from a book co-written by Stephen Ambrose, Fawn
Brodie, and Tom Wicker. The Nixon family also took umbrage to Stone’s
insinuation Nixon’s private life was in shambles almost from birth; a man who,
through a series of middle-age reflections, suffered from crippling bouts of
paranoia, tinged with Oedipal anxieties. For his part, Stone defended his
movie, claiming it was never meant as a definitive statement and/or history on
either the man or his presidency; rather, “a
basis to start reading…investigating on your own.”
If any criticism
can be ascribed Nixon – the movie,
it squarely rests on Anthony Hopkins’ performance; problematic and unconvincing
at best. Full of hunched posturing, too manic and insincerely prone to mimicry,
it neither effectively captures the timbre of Nixon’s baritone nor his
mannerisms as anything better than hackneyed affectations, nor does it
transcend the iconography of Richard Nixon – as characterization – into to a
solid piece of ‘movie acting’ beyond the psycho-manic highs and depressive subjective lows. In retrospect, it is no real surprise to learn Hopkins felt
ill at ease almost from the moment his signature had dried on the contract; his
own anxieties boiling over after co-star, Paul Sorvino reportedly told Hopkins
he was “doing the whole thing wrong”,
that “…there was room for improvement”
but that he - Sorvino – was precisely the pro to pull Hopkins’ proverbial bacon
out of the fire. To cull Hopkins fears, Oliver Stone cajoled, complimented and
eventually convinced his star to stay the course – a misfire from which Nixon arguably never recovers.
I adore Anthony
Hopkins. But Nixon is decidedly not
his finest hour; regrettably so, since any appreciation for this
carefully-crafted non-linear political epic is inextricably derived from our
ability to buy into Hopkins reincarnation. As this becomes increasingly
difficult to digest, we are left to the satisfaction gleaned from the movie’s
awe-inspiring roster of supporting players; some more successful at aping their
counterparts; the most exquisite of the lot, Joan Allen’s Pat Nixon, and, Paul
Sorvino’s chillingly on point recreation of Henry Kissinger. There are others
who do their part; Bob Hopkins – a wily and grumbling, J. Edgar Hoover; Sam
Waterson – foreboding, as CIA director, Richard Helms, Powers Boothe (a very
stoic, Alexander Haig), David Hyde Pierce (congenial as attorney to the
President, John Dean), and, James Woods, forgoing his usual afflictions as a
fairly credible, H.R. Haldeman. But
these are reoccurring cameos at best; undeniably, solidly crafted, though
subservient and often left dangling about the Nixonian mobile of political
intrigues that form the centerpiece of Stone’s exposĆ©.
Nixon went through an arduous incubation period. Former
speechwriter and staff member of the House Foreign Affairs Committee, Eric
Hamburg pitched the idea to screenwriter, Stephen J. Rivele, and, Oliver Stone
simultaneously. At the time, Stone was busy developing two other projects: a movie
version of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Evita
and his own biopic about Panamanian dictator, Manuel Noriega. When Stone could
find no funding for either project, he turned his attentions to Nixon, initiating a pitch to Warner
Bros. Eventually, Hollywood Pictures – a subsidiary of the Walt Disney Co. –
would take over, fund and distribute the movie, resulting in yet another
obstruction. It seems Stone had agreed to a 3-picture deal with Regency
Enterprises under producer, Arnon Michan. Stone would eventually deliver three
movies as promised to Regency; JFK, Heaven and Earth and Natural Born Killers. On the success of
‘Killers’
alone, Milchan renegotiated Stone’s commitment so he owed an additional three
pictures (four in total). Regrettably, Milchan showed little interest in Nixon. Reneging on his promise to
commit to any Oliver Stone movie under $42.5 million, Milchan now agreed to
finance Nixon up to $35 million.
Rather than debate the point, Stone simply chose to shop the project to
Hungarian financier, Andrew G. Vajna and Cinergi Pictures who, along with
Disney Inc. agreed to put up the necessary $43 million. With egg on his face, Milchan threatened to
sue for breach of contract. He would later withdraw, but only after Stone
reportedly paid him off.
Meanwhile,
Stephen J. Rivele and his collaborator, Christopher Wilkinson hammered out the
details in this high-stakes drama, with Oliver Stone helping to infuse a more
ominous undercurrent; the President gradually becoming subservient to the
dictates of secret money men and the military-industrial complex: a ‘system’ comprised
of unseen corporate and state-sanctioned rogue elements, manipulating the
political process with the complicity of the media in order to protect the
status quo and its ownership; a system that, by design, Stone clearly saw as “…grind(ing) the individual down.” During pre-production, Stone flew to
Washington to interview surviving members of Nixon’s inner circle, including
lawyer, Leonard Garment and Attorney General, Elliot Richardson; also, Robert
McNamara, a former Secretary of Defense under Kennedy and Johnson. Stone added
cache to the project by hiring Alexander Butterfield, John Sears and John Dean
as his consultants. Butterfield’s involvement proved particularly fortuitous as
he had been the go-between during the Watergate scandal. Stone also encouraged
his actors to reach out to their flesh and blood counterparts; Powers Boothe,
David Hyde Pierce and Paul Sorvino all taking Stone up on his advice to dig
deeper into their characterizations. Only J.T. Walsh abstained, and only after
the real John Ehrlichman threatened a lawsuit, fearing a ‘hatchet job’ was in the works. Former CIA director, Richard Helms
would follow a similar path, forcing Stone to excise all of the footage featuring
Sam Waterston before the movie went into theaters. Ironically, these scenes
were restored for all home video ‘director’s cut’ releases without further
incident.
Nixon opens with the Watergate burglary; E. Howard Hunt (Ed
Harris) preparing his men for this third-rate burglary, destined to topple the
presidency. Hunt’s cohorts include Frank Sturgis (Robert Beltran), Gordon Liddy
(John Diehl), Bernard Barker (Lenny Vullo) and James McCord (Ronald von
Klaussen); Oliver Stone, intercutting with ‘breaking news’ reports of the
scandal to expedite the particulars of the incident without giving us a blow by
blow. We cut to Gen. Alexander Haig arriving at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave., helping
an inebriated Nixon load his reel-to-reel tape recorder; Nixon’s own words
coming back to haunt him. Now, Stone regresses us to the first of many
flashbacks; Nixon in a heated debate with his top White House aids, including
Ehrlichman, Dean and Haldeman, who warns the president his house of cards has
already begun to crumble. In times of stress, Nixon retreats into his cocoon;
recalling the 1960 presidential debate with Jack Kennedy that cost him the
election. Pat encourages her husband to give up his political dreams. They
could be happy if only he would only concentrate on practicing law and allow them
to live their lives out of the public spotlight. At one point, Pat even
threatens divorce. We regress even further into Nixon’s past; a very painful
childhood in Whittier, California (Nixon intermittently played at 12 years by
Corey Carrier, and, as a 19 year old college student by David Barry Gray)
saddled with a stern and uncompromising patriarch, Frank (Tom Bower) and even
more devoutly religious mother, Hannah (Mary Steenburgen); the family forced to
endure the loss of two brothers, younger, Donald (Sean Stone) and elder, Harold
(Tony Goldwyn) to tuberculosis. Nixon vows to become the pride of his family.
He follows the straight and narrow.
But his thirst
for political conquest eventually leads him to cut corners. He becomes a member
of HUAC and integral in the Elgar Hiss hearings. He shamelessly turns an IRS investigation
of his personal finances into a media event to gain public support for his
first stab at the White House. Alas, Nixon is chagrined by Kennedy’s undulating
charisma during their televised debate. After Kennedy’s assassination, Nixon is
approached by J. Edgar Hoover, who quietly suggests Bobby Kennedy will not
stand in his way should he choose to run for President again. Having sworn to
Pat he would officially retire from politics, Nixon slyly reenters the ring;
backed by a spurious consortium of Texas money men, fronted by the mysterious
‘Jack Jones’ (Larry Hagman). Nixon sweeps the ’69 elections; a landslide that
startles his opponents. But he is unable to enjoy the appointment, growing more
distant from Pat and his advisers; increasingly paranoid and guarded in his
decision-making processes. On several occasions, Pat reaches out to her
husband, but is rebuked; Nixon, claiming the walls have ears. Nixon embarks
upon his ambitious negotiations with China and the Soviet Union. Both Leonid
Brezhnev and General Mao are sincerely impressed by Nixon’s chutzpah; also, his
international diplomacy. Increasingly, however, Nixon is unable to keep focus
on these summits; his mind diverted by an increasing disunion in the American
fabric; campus riots and youth protesters picketing the White House because of
his bold move to bomb Cambodia. As the Watergate scandal grows more
problematic, fueled by conspiracy theories put forth in the media, Nixon
discovers he is unable to maintain his composure, even toward his die hard
constituents who once believed he could do no wrong. At the height of this
malaise, daughter, Julie (Annabeth Gish) confronts her father with the only
question that matters. Is he guilty of all the things written about him in the
Washington Post? Nixon weakens, but does not break in his resolve, professing
his innocence to Julie, who wholeheartedly believes in him.
Meanwhile,
Howard Hunt bribes the White House for hush money – Dean, confronting Hunt on a
lonely bridge in an attempt to learn just how much longer he intends holding
the president hostage for Watergate. Hunt warns Dean it is only a matter of
time before Nixon begins cutting his losses; pointing the finger at various
scapegoats to ensure the cover-up never infiltrates his own inner sanctum. Dean
is reluctant to buy into Hunt’s allegations. But only a short while later,
Nixon accepts Haldeman and Ehrlichman’s resignations, going on television to
profess his innocence in the Watergate scandal. Dean is asked by the president
to go to Camp David and put the whole incident in writing. But Dean tells Nixon
he will not be his next scapegoat. Not long thereafter, Dean turns against the
White House, offering full disclosure to clear his good name of all charges.
Amidst the chaos, Nixon hosts several galas at the White House, including
Julie’s marriage to David Eisenhower, and, a tribute to the brave soldiers who
fought in Vietnam. Nixon is also led to believe Henry Kissinger is leaking top
secret information to the Washington Post. Eventually, Nixon has nowhere to
hide; the Post unearthing the discovery of a secret taping system in the White
House. Nixon absolutely refuses to surrender his tapes to the Special Prosecutor
assigned to investigate the case. He also has transcripts of these tapes
heavily censored under the guise of ‘national security’. Unable to refuse handing over the tapes on
legal grounds as a public figure, and facing various articles of impeachment,
Nixon instead resigns. Under the law he is allowed to keep the tapes as a
private citizen. As the helicopter departs from the White House front lawn,
stunned onlookers quietly observe as the man they all looked to for guidance
departs 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. in utter disgrace.
Nixon is so palpably Oliver Stone’s fanatical effort to get
under the hood of the Nixon presidency that, at times, it does begin to take on
the flavoring of a ‘caper/heist’ drama. And yet, Stone has cleverly anchored
his investigation in an even more probative quest for the truth behind Richard
Nixon, incorporating fact and speculation to paint a fascinating and, at times,
unflattering (though I would argue) fair portrait. Gradually, Stone’s
impressions of the man begin to take precedence as the movie steers us into the
darkened recesses of Nixon’s soul; his desperation to keep the world at bay and
whitewash his public persona in a series of ill-timed political gestures that
culminate in ‘the madman theory’;
roughly translated in the movie as Nixon’s callous, though ultimately
effective, bombing of Cambodia that ended the Vietnam war. Alas, as Pat had
predicted earlier in the movie, her husband’s unquenchable thirst for power,
his failure to effectively harness and maintain it once appointed to the
highest office in the land, and even more critically, his overall inability to
enjoy and build upon what little popularity he occasionally gleans from the
mainstream press, ultimately creates a vicious political whirlpool – some of it
instigated by Nixon himself to his ever-lasting detriment. This eventually swamps
any chances Nixon has for the sort of legacy all presidents reach for and
aspire to, though too few ultimately achieve during their tenure inside the
White House.
What the movie
does spectacularly well is to weave these various imperfect threads, dedicated
to the man and his malaise, into an impeccably crafted tapestry of melodrama -
intense, and at times, genuinely disturbing. To his pundits, Oliver Stone will
always be regarded as a rank conspiracy theorist. Yet, as with JFK, in Nixon, Stone illustrates not only his passion for history, but also
his copious abilities to assimilate a mountain of facts into a persuasive – if
slightly fictionalized – entertainment with the impression of being a more
impervious truth. Stone is marginally hampered by the fact Richard Nixon was
neither heroic nor noble. Pardoned by future President Gerald Ford, Richard
Nixon would go on to write several important political memoirs and be a silent
adviser to many more Presidents occupying the White House in times yet to
follow. The public never quite forgave him Watergate. Realistically, the media
wouldn’t let them. Yet, Stone’s movie never vacillates in picking the puss from
this chronically festering scab, nor is Stone similarly interested in
propagating the notion Nixon was clumsily evil.
What Oliver
Stone has done is to give us the first intelligent and ‘unbiased’ – if
speculative – portrait of Richard Nixon as a candidly faulty, occasionally
injudicious, though always authentically passionate champion of the America he
sought to reshape during some of its most turbulent times. To a large extent,
Nixon did exactly that, not only during his presidency, but ultimately, for all
time; the ripples from his time in the White House resonating long after his
misfires and worthy triumphs had been laid to rest. Stone’s movie, like his
subject matter, is imperfect; regrettably so. Although Stone never stumbles in
his quest for quality, the integrity of the piece is hampered by Anthony
Hopkins’ incapacity to grasp at a performance with anything more compelling
than superficial gesticulations. Hopkins is fighting a losing battle in Nixon, his actor’s prowess utterly
failing him. He delivers his lines with a sort of perpetual and extremely
petulant brusqueness; his own insecurities about the part showing through. He
just cannot seem to get a handle on Richard Nixon and, in lieu of peeling away
the layers of the man, Hopkins falls back on a sort of grotesque mime of the
personality we know from newsreels and press conferences, but without ever
unearthing the person hiding behind this public faƧade. Arguably, the real
Nixon shared such a character trait – always drawing a veil or shadow across
the public image he wanted the American people to believe in as their leader.
But such secrecy does not bode well for Hopkins. He never allows us a hint of what
is going on inside, even if the thought processes are more himself than his
alter ego. The net result is a vacuous and unfulfilling caricature that – here
and there – crackles with hints of his better work to be done, but ultimately
betrays Oliver Stone’s ambitious plans for a more heartfelt impression of the
man.
In his final
address to the nation, Nixon allowed the world to see a side of him rarely
shared; the fallen, though arguably, undefeated man, stripped of all power and
cynicism. Wisely, Oliver Stone lets Richard Nixon’s farewell address stand on
its own; the president, thanking all who served under his administration and
would continue to diligently lead by their own examples afterward, expressing
pride in the nation and accepting full responsibility for ‘mistakes’ made along
the way, though never meant for personal profit. In his concluding remarks,
Nixon returned, perhaps not surprisingly, to Whittier California for his most
unguarded summation of what life in general - and his more particularly - had
taught him, saying “I remember my old
man. I think that they would have called him sort of a little man, common
man…but he was a great man, because he did his job, and every job counts up to
the hilt, regardless of what happens….and nobody will ever write a book,
probably, about my mother. Well, I guess all of you would say this about your
mother -- my mother was a saint. And I think of her, two boys dying of
tuberculosis, nursing four others in order that she could take care of my older
brother for three years in Arizona, and seeing each of them die, and when they
died, it was like one of her own. Yes, she will have no books written about
her. But she was a saint.
We think sometimes when things happen that don't go
the right way; we think that when someone dear to us dies, we think that when
we lose an election, we think that when we suffer a defeat that all is ended.
We think…that the light had left forever. Not true. It is only a beginning,
always… It must always sustain us, because the greatness comes not when things
go always good for you. But the greatness comes and you are really tested, when
you take some knocks, some disappointments, when sadness comes, because only if
you have been in the deepest valley can you ever know how magnificent it is to
be on the highest mountain…Always give your best, never get discouraged, never
be petty; always remember, others may hate you, but those who hate you don't
win unless you hate them, and then you destroy yourself. And so, we leave with
high hopes, in good spirit, and with deep humility, and with very much
gratefulness in our hearts. I can only say to each and every one of you, we
come from many faiths, we pray perhaps to different gods -- but really the same
God in a sense -- but I want to say for each and every one of you, not only
will we always remember you, not only will we always be grateful to you, but
always you will be in our hearts and you will be in our prayers. Thank you very
much.”
Nixon was originally released on Blu-ray by Buena Vista
Entertainment in November 2012, ironically to coincide with the second
presidential election of Barak Obama. Then, only the director’s cut was made
available in hi-def. Kino Lorber’s new to Blu rectifies this oversight,
allowing audiences to choose between the ‘director’s cut’ and the ‘theatrical
cut’. Personally, I prefer the ‘director’s cut’. We lose nearly 21 minutes of exposition in
the ‘theatrical release’ – much of it, with pertinent info that wounds our
overall understanding of Nixon – the man, and also impugns Stone’s carefully
constructed regression into antiquity. Nixon on Blu-ray showcases cinematographer,
Robert Richardson’s vintage ‘look’; Stone, utilizing both 35mm and 16mm film
stocks to achieve a sort of aged Kodachrome and B&W ‘archival’ appearance,
adding yet another layer of stylization to his visual storytelling. Colors are
clear and distinct if slightly muted, although I suspect this is in keeping
with Stone’s approach to creating the pseudo-documentarian ‘time capsule’ impression. Both versions
of Nixon deliver comparable video quality. This Blu-ray is exceptionally clean
and satisfying. The 5.1 DTS audio is solid. Kino Lorber has not skimped here.
In addition to porting over all of the extensive extras that were a part of
Buena Vista’s retired Blu – including two independent audio commentaries from
Stone (director’s cut only), nearly an hour of deleted scenes, an hour-long
interview with Stone on Charlie Rose,
a half-hour ‘Beyond Nixon’ documentary, and a brief ‘making-of’ featurette
and theatrical trailer we also get a brand new audio commentary from historian,
Jim Hemphill on the 191 min. theatrical cut. Bottom line: while Nixon is not a perfect movie, much of it is riveting entertainment.
It’s not a movie you can just casually put on.
It requires wholehearted investment to be fully appreciated. Even so, it
comes across as an engrossing – if slightly failed – political epic, but very worthy
of re-investigation. Kino’s reissue is welcomed.
Bottom line: recommended.
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
Director’s Cut 3.5
Theatrical Cut 3
VIDEO/AUDIO
4.5 on both
EXTRAS
3
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