Taking a Deep Throat dive into a 50-year-old classic
Tuesday, September 8, 2026
In the political thriller wing of the American film library, they don’t come much better—or as highly applauded—than All the President’s Men, directed by Alan J. Pakula and released 50 years ago, back in spring 1976. Much as the Beatles did to light a fire in aspiring musicians after appearing on The Ed Sullivan Show, this film, and the true reporting it’s based on, inspired many young folk to choose journalism as a vocation. Here, we follow Washington Post journalists Bob Woodward (Robert Redford) and Carl Bernstein (Dustin Hoffman) as they investigate the seemingly minor 1972 break-in at the Democratic National Committee headquarters and uncover the massive Watergate conspiracy leading to the highest levels of the Nixon administration, aided by their steadfast executive editor Ben Bradlee (Jason Robards) and a secretive confidential informant known as Deep Throat (Hal Holbrook).
What’s unique about this film as a political thriller and magnificent exercise in suspense is that it relies on very little action: Most of the plot details phone calls, face-to-face interviews, and meetings in offices, doorways, and a shadowy parking garage. Other thrillers typically include chases, explosions, sex, and violence to keep your attention. The villains are rarely seen other than in a photograph or on television, keeping them enigmatic and elusive. It also doesn’t demonize the antagonists or tell the audience what to think, meaning no one proselytises against Nixon or his cronies.
The picture has a documentary-like feel to it, as if we are witnessing history unfolding. All the President’s Men avoids sensationalizing its subject matter, eschewing cinematic clichés, dramatic flourishes, visual hyperbole, or an exuberant, over-emotive score. Remarkably, the film skips over the journalists' official vindication, choosing not to include any triumphant closing scenes that show their hard-won reputations being officially restored.
What’s more, we already know the resolution ahead of time (a rarity among films of this type), yet it is how the characters get from A to Z that remains fascinating. Knowing the ending forces us to pay close attention to the details of how they pieced together the puzzle. We play reporter and sleuth along with Woodward and Bernstein, finding it fascinating to watch how they play the game with sources, communicate with higher-ups, and piece together clues.
The terrific acting speaks for itself. This is a well-cast film in which we appreciate facial expressions, reactions, body language, and the humanness of the characters. Redford and Hoffman demonstrate terrific chemistry and acting instincts that improve almost every scene they inhabit. The ensemble cast, including Robards, Holbrook, Jack Warden, and Martin Balsam, provides wonderful depth as fascinating side characters.
The sound design moves mountains by creating a wonderful juxtaposition between the loud, constant noises of the newsroom and the utter silences of doorstep meetings and interviews, while the opening typewriter keystrokes sound like gunshots.
The score is unfussy but pressing, letting the acting, dialogue, and events – as well as disturbing moments of quiet – do the heavy lifting. It’s a low-key approach that doesn’t drown out the plot or dialogue, instead underscoring the subtle ratcheting of tension.
Pakula opts for ample crane shots, deep focus, and split focus to amp up the fear factor. Zoom-out and tracking shots reveal how small Bernstein and Woodward are compared to the environment they are working in, visually depicting how they are searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack. We marvel at how the pair are frequently dwarfed by the exteriors of large buildings.
Recall, as well, how the bright, even fluorescent lights of the newsroom contrast with the dark, shadowy maze of the parking garage and other settings, signifying that the newsroom sheds light while the garage keeps things murky. Many of the sources the duo need lurk fearfully in the shadows and have to be “brought into the light.” Ace cinematographer Gordon Willis was responsible for this moody lighting scheme, often utilizing chiaroscuro for dramatic emphasis.
Of course, this adaptation of the famous book of the same name can’t include every key subplot and detail. It’s challenging within a two-hour window to tell the complete story. But the filmmakers risk losing the audience's attention if they go too deep in the weeds to stay as faithful to the source material as possible.
The gumption to conclude the film with a teletype epilogue should be saluted; this effect reinforces some of the film’s key themes: the power of the press (signified by the loud and speedy keystrokes of the teletype machine), the importance of the story over the persons responsible for writing it, and the speed at which history transpires and the world can change.
To listen to a recording of our CineVerse group discussion of All the President’s Men, conducted last week, click here.
What’s unique about this film as a political thriller and magnificent exercise in suspense is that it relies on very little action: Most of the plot details phone calls, face-to-face interviews, and meetings in offices, doorways, and a shadowy parking garage. Other thrillers typically include chases, explosions, sex, and violence to keep your attention. The villains are rarely seen other than in a photograph or on television, keeping them enigmatic and elusive. It also doesn’t demonize the antagonists or tell the audience what to think, meaning no one proselytises against Nixon or his cronies.
The picture has a documentary-like feel to it, as if we are witnessing history unfolding. All the President’s Men avoids sensationalizing its subject matter, eschewing cinematic clichés, dramatic flourishes, visual hyperbole, or an exuberant, over-emotive score. Remarkably, the film skips over the journalists' official vindication, choosing not to include any triumphant closing scenes that show their hard-won reputations being officially restored.
What’s more, we already know the resolution ahead of time (a rarity among films of this type), yet it is how the characters get from A to Z that remains fascinating. Knowing the ending forces us to pay close attention to the details of how they pieced together the puzzle. We play reporter and sleuth along with Woodward and Bernstein, finding it fascinating to watch how they play the game with sources, communicate with higher-ups, and piece together clues.
The terrific acting speaks for itself. This is a well-cast film in which we appreciate facial expressions, reactions, body language, and the humanness of the characters. Redford and Hoffman demonstrate terrific chemistry and acting instincts that improve almost every scene they inhabit. The ensemble cast, including Robards, Holbrook, Jack Warden, and Martin Balsam, provides wonderful depth as fascinating side characters.
The sound design moves mountains by creating a wonderful juxtaposition between the loud, constant noises of the newsroom and the utter silences of doorstep meetings and interviews, while the opening typewriter keystrokes sound like gunshots.
The score is unfussy but pressing, letting the acting, dialogue, and events – as well as disturbing moments of quiet – do the heavy lifting. It’s a low-key approach that doesn’t drown out the plot or dialogue, instead underscoring the subtle ratcheting of tension.
Pakula opts for ample crane shots, deep focus, and split focus to amp up the fear factor. Zoom-out and tracking shots reveal how small Bernstein and Woodward are compared to the environment they are working in, visually depicting how they are searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack. We marvel at how the pair are frequently dwarfed by the exteriors of large buildings.
Recall, as well, how the bright, even fluorescent lights of the newsroom contrast with the dark, shadowy maze of the parking garage and other settings, signifying that the newsroom sheds light while the garage keeps things murky. Many of the sources the duo need lurk fearfully in the shadows and have to be “brought into the light.” Ace cinematographer Gordon Willis was responsible for this moody lighting scheme, often utilizing chiaroscuro for dramatic emphasis.
Of course, this adaptation of the famous book of the same name can’t include every key subplot and detail. It’s challenging within a two-hour window to tell the complete story. But the filmmakers risk losing the audience's attention if they go too deep in the weeds to stay as faithful to the source material as possible.
The gumption to conclude the film with a teletype epilogue should be saluted; this effect reinforces some of the film’s key themes: the power of the press (signified by the loud and speedy keystrokes of the teletype machine), the importance of the story over the persons responsible for writing it, and the speed at which history transpires and the world can change.
Similar works
- Citizen Kane (1941)
- The Front Page (1931)
- His Girl Friday (1940)
- Ace in the Hole (1951)
- Sweet Smell of Success (1957)
- Absence of Malice (1981)
- Broadcast News (1987)
- The Paper (1994)
- Quiz Show (1994)
- The Insider (1999)
- Good Night, and Good Luck (2005)
- Spotlight (2015)
- The Post (2017)
Other films by Alan J. Pakula
- Klute (1971)
- The Parallax View (1974)
- Sophie’s Choice (1982)
- The Pelican Brief (1993)
