Years of Poems and Spirits

Last year, just before the Election, Frank Rich said in an opinion column, something like, “it is a shame that GWB was so banal a terrible President, he didn’t even give us a Richard Nixon to chew over”. I didn’t think it was a casual remark at all. I always thought that Nixon is a such a Shakespearean figure that the great playwright himself must be turning in his grave for not having met him. Or he would have written “Richard IV”. Ha.

The movie is wonderful. But of course, I am biased. I haven’t seen a Nixon movie that I didn’t like.

On the 2nd pass:
I like the movie using character’s recalling of the event to guide along the narrative. Michael Sheen’s eye movement is as good as his dialogue.

I just can’t believe they made a movie about this lousy interview. Now that is art. That is creativity.

One thing I didn’t care about is that the script unnecessarily makes Nixon the man look petty. Like when he insisted Frost’s check is made out to him or advised Frost to move to Monaco to avoid tax. The midnight phone call (and Nixon’s subsequent “forgetfulness”) is also too cheesy a skit to make a point. If Nixon hasn’t internalized the dissonance which lead to what we consider as excess, he wouldn’t be Nixon. At the end of the day, he, like everyone else, lives in his own universe.

The greatness of Richard M Nixon is in his will to impose his world, his being, onto ours. And needless to say, that is also the greatness of his tragedy.