Was it an omen? Richard Nixon and the film industry arrived in Southern California in the same year, 1913. As Mark Feeney relates in this unusual and unusually absorbing book, Nixon and the movies have shared a long and complex history. Some of that history—the president's multiple screenings of Patton before and during the invasion of Cambodia, or Oliver Stone's Nixon —is well known. Yet much more is not. How many are aware, for example, that Nixon was an enthusiastic filmgoer who watched more than five hundred movies during his presidency?
Nixon at the Movies takes a new and often revelatory approach to looking at Nixon's career—and Hollywood's. From the obvious ( All the President's Men ) to the less so (Elvis Presley movies and Nixon's relationship to '60s youth culture) to several onscreen "alternate" Nixons (Fred MacMurray in Double Indemnity , Tony Curtis in The Sweet Smell of Success , Gene Hackman in The Conversation ), Feeney sees aspects of Nixon's character, and the nation's, refracted and reimagined in film. Conversely, Feeney argues that Nixon can help us see the movies in a new light, making a strong case for Nixon as the movies' tutelary deity during the early '70s, playing a role in Hollywood's Silver Age comparable to FDR's during its Golden Age.
Stylishly written and bracingly eclectic, Nixon at the Movies draws on biography, politics, cultural history, and film criticism to show just how deeply in the twentieth-century American grain lies the pair of seemingly incongruous nouns in its title. As Nixon once remarked to Garry "Isn't that a hell of a thing, that the fate of a great country can depend on camera angles?"
Mark Feeney's book is a difficult work to describe. At its core it provides its readers with an analysis of Richard Nixon's cinephilia, the consequences of which Feeney gleans in order to explain various aspects of Nixon's psychology. This he does in a series of interconnected chapter-length essays, the majority of which are built around a particular film Nixon watched during his time as president. Feeney uses his examination of these movies as a springboard for an extended exploration into specific aspects of Nixon's life and career, such as his relationship with Ronald Reagan or his time in Congress. Drawing upon his background as a film critic, he weaves together his examination into a study of the films themselves and their related works, which he breaks down not just to draw out the elements that relate to Nixon's life but to illuminate the America in which he lived.
The result is an engrossing read. Though Feeney provides no new details about Nixon's life or his time in office, he draws out connections that deepen our understanding of the man and provide some interesting interpretations of his character. It also has the effect of humanizing the 37th president in a way that that few other books have before, showing how, at his core, Nixon was a person who enjoyed losing himself in movies as much as anyone else. While this is not the first book people should seek out to learn about Richard Nixon, the originality of Feeney's approach and the insights it provides make it one that nobody seeking to make sense of the man can afford to neglect.
I absolutely loved this book! Every chapter is full of insights into Nixon and the movies. Mark Feeney takes five movies Nixon is known to have enjoyed, and wrings out all kinds of fascinating connections between the story line and Nixon's own personality. Not only politics, but culture and sex and money and ambition and pain -- this book teaches amazing lessons on everything that shaped Nixon. Don't miss the sections on Elvis and Nixon as twin icons of un-cool!
My only complaint is that Feeney never brings Humphrey Bogart into the mix. The amazing and authentic "movie diary" at the end of the book makes it clear that Nixon screened both THE CAINE MUTINY and THE TREASURE OF THE SIERRA MADRE while in the White House. Why didn't Mark Feeney jump on the SCREAMINGLY obvious ties between Nixon and Bogey?
Look at Humphrey Bogart's face -- the mean, kicked around face of Richard Nixon. Look at the unshaved beard, the shifty, beady little eyes. Look at how every man Bogart ever played was a cold, paranoid loner at heart, often with a homicidal streak. It's much easier for me to see Nixon as the vicious small time prospector Fred C. Dobbs (in TREASURE) or as the frightened, incompetent naval officer Philip Queeg (in CAINE) than as the smooth, sexually confident insurance salesman played by Fred MacMurray in DOUBLE INDEMNITY.
Note how Fred C. Dobbs is convinced everyone is after him. Note how he's capable of holding on to sanity -- just barely -- until he finally strikes it rich. The fact of finally having gold is what makes him lose his fragile grip on reality -- just the way Nixon survived years of political exile but cracked up the moment all his dreams were within his grasp. By turning on his buddies in bandit country, Dobbs ensures his own downfall systematically. He commits all the most horrifying acts of betrayal, but in his tortured mind it's always a matter of self-preservation. ("No, not murder, partner, not murder, your mistake! I'm saving my life that you'd be taking from me!")Sound familiar?
And how could Feeney have skipped writing a chapter on Bogart's role as Commander Philip Queeg in THE CAINE MUTINY? Nixon is so obviously Queeg it's like the movie was an eerie prophecy. Queeg is a weak, shifty eyed nervous wreck pathetically masquerading as a heroic military commander. Queeg knows he's not the John Wayne type. And he knows his officers know it. He constantly feels menaced by "disloyal officers" and insists "from the first they were all against me." Queeg routinely lies and cheats in order to avoid taking responsibility for his own ineptness as a commander. ("Take the towline . . . defective equipment . . . nothing more!") Queeg longs to rouse and inspire with his speeches, but his attempts at frank man to man talk are pathetically hollow. ("I kid you not.") THE CAINE MUTINY is the best movie ever made about Watergate.
Humphrey Bogart would have been the most logical choice to play Nixon in a major motion picture. He understood Nixon and acted out his tragedy back when Nixon himself was just a young congressman from California. How did the brilliant Mark Feeney miss the Bogart connection?
Mark Feeney begins this quirky, largely successful study, by acknowledging that in some ways Richard Nixon makes for an odd match with the movies: JFK had more star quality; Reagan had the biographical connection; FDR perhaps the closest connection with and greatest degree of impact the movie industry of his day. But, Feeney argues, Nixon's relationship with the movies was deeply ingrained in his character and in a real way much more typical of most moviegoers. That's the key: Nixon was most comfortable as an audience, someone sitting in the dark, giving himself up to screen fantasies as a way of dealing with his own profound loneliness. One of the cool things about the book is the nearly complete list of the movies Nixon watched during his White House years. Some of the correlations between his viewing and historical events have been publicized, most notably the fact that he watched Patton three times during the week he decided on the invasion of Cambodia. But it's interesting to know that It's a Wonderful Life, with its vision of alternative possibilities, was the second to last movie he watched before his resignation; the last was Around the World in 80 Days, his personal favorite. Feeney approaches his subject from many different angles, appropriately given that one of his major themes is the parade of alternative Nixons and new Nixons which moved on and off the public stage over his half century in public life. There's a very good chapter juxtaposing the noir L.A. of Doulbe Indemnity with Nixon's childhood just a few miles from Hollywood during its formative years; a fascinating chapter that uses Mister Roberts to reflect on Nixon's time in the Navy, the only period of his life when he appears to have been truly at ease and popular with those around him; a chapter on Advise and Consent that reflects on just how out of place Nixon was in the Senate; a chapter on Nixon and Kissinger that bounces off Two Road Together; and, more predictably, a chapter on All the President's Men. One of Feeney's arguments, which I buy, is that, while Nixon couldn't stand (and for the most part didn't even watch) the classics of American film's 1970s "silver age," he was a constant presence in the emergence of the "paranoid thriller" exemplified by The Conversation.
There are times when Feeney pretty clearly just wanted to insert his reflections on movies he finds interesting, even when the connection with Nixon is a bit tenuous. Most of those occur later in the book, by which time he'd convinced me I was interested in his take even if it was a bit of a digression in context. More importantly, I came out of Nixon at the Movies with a changed sense of Nixon himself. Feeney's not exactly sympathetic to Nixon, but he views him as a human being rather than a cartoon villain. Definitely recommended.
A blend of semi-biography of President Richard Nixon and an analysis of the movies he watched in the White House, Camp David, and San Clemente during his presidency. Nixon was a peculiar introverted lonely man and it's strange to think he made it to the top, but those some attributes brought to him to his tragic political end. Big surprise was he loved movies. He may have (as of now) watched the most films of any President in history. He watched films even during the week at night when most Presidents do it only on weekends. He loved John Wayne, big musicals, and John Ford. He watched other genres and stars, as well, even Jane Fonda. Oh, and he loved Clint Eastwood.
The book examines instances in Nixon's life and career and compares it to a film he watched and how it mirrored in some way the historical facts or psychological aspects of his life. Some of it gets a little too deep and hard to wade through. Chapters concern his relationship with The Senate, Vietnam, Kissinger, his paranoia and taping, and his visit with Elvis. Favorite section was on a look at what he watched in the screening rooms until he resigned. He watched AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 DAYS last. It was the film he watched most along with PATTON. The look at his relationship with Eisenhower is fascinating when reading about his admiration and appreciation of PATTON. Both men had to deal with Ike ... one as his Vice-President and the other as one of his generals in WWII. The facts and psychological observations made are quite interesting.
This mammoth biography is not what I bought it for. Primarily intrigued by the Nixon/Movies nexus, I was somewhat disappointed to find this the least developed aspect of the work. Long stretches go by with no movie-related content; some chapters have only the most tenuous connection to what I had presumed was the main reason for the book's being.
This was frustrating. There are plenty of Nixon biographies. The selling point here was to explore the films important to the politician, and the ways in which contemporary cinema had reflected the man back onto himself. There is some of that, of course; and just enough of it to make the book interesting in terms of its original appeal. The bulk of it is a more-or-less chronological account of the jowly-one's rise and fall; his relationships with Eisenhower and Kissenger; Watergate and so on.
Feeney has a nice touch for relating anecdotes, and there are many, some amusing and all highly illuminating. I did get a sense of Dick; I even felt a little sorry for him sometimes. The central image of this strange man slinking away to sit in the dark in his private cinema(s), whilst wars raged and Rome burned, is as compelling as it was unexpected. And it was fun to look through the official list of the movies he watched and when he watched them!
It is just a shame, in this reader's opinion, that Feeney hadn't focused more resolutely on his USP with this one, rather than (almost) risk losing it in the tide.
The conceit is intriguing. Nixon screened more than 500 movies during his time in the White House. The prospect is to relate aspects of Nixon’s psyche through his relationship to movies and Hollywood. The first three chapters are “Dark Victory”, “Double Indemnity”, and “Patton”; so, sort of a one trick pony. The critiques of the movies themselves are more interesting and insightful than the analysis of Nixon, whose flaws had been well established by the time this book came out in 2004. The acrimony escalates as the chapters go by, until pg. 312 of 333 gives us the following: “Pronouncing Nixon – the flatness of the n’s repetition, the hiss of the x – all too easily lent itself to a sneer. […] Nixon, alas: those five five-o’clock-shadowed letters would sit there and sigh – stop a moment to linger over the sound of them – like sullen poetry on the page.” My last name is Anderson. A hissing sssss between two n’s. Is my name “sullen poetry” as well. C’MON MAN!
A fascinating intersection of two of my favorite subjects: film and US presidential history, " Nixon at the movies" is a work of profound intellect and insight.
The chapter dwelling on the infamous Nixon/ Kissinger relation is my personal highlight, but the author doesn't put a foot wrong throughout - cleverly breaking up the work into approachable 30 page chapters which each cover a particular aspect of Nixon's life.
This is certainly not an " entry-level" Nixon book. It's best approached by those familiar with the subject matter, but the rewards are considerable. Earlier in the year, I read " Being Nixon" which strives to act as a psychological assessment - it's a very good book, but in many ways " Nixon at the movies" achieves that goal in a superior fashion.
I learned a great deal about Nixon, politics of the 1950s through the 1970s, and films from this book. It's really insightful. I got a sense of why Nixon was the way he was from it. Its language is a little highfalutin' and a few obscure expressions are repeated overmuch.
I am not doing this book justice. It was like talking with an interesting very knowledgable person at a cocktail party. I lived during much of Nixon's times and read several books about him and his times, and now I understand him so much better.
The book is disturbing. I learned something about my own Nixonian qualities in reading this book.
This is a terrific book. It is smart about politics and film.
Richard Nixon watched movies a lot. In this book Feeney covers the major experiences of Nixon's life and career, but how certain films reflect Nixon's attitudes, and how Nixon regarded the movies of his era and how movies of the era (and after) regarded Nixon.
This is one of the more original books I've read about both film and politics. Feeney has smart things to say about Nixon and Eisenhower, Nixon and Kissinger, and what Nixon thought about FDR. He has great insight into the films of Capra and Ford, as well as the films of the Seventies.