Most effective of all are the scenes where Woodward and secret government informant ‘Deep Throat’ meet in an empty underground parking garage in the middle of the night. Woodward takes two taxis to the meeting spot and the sound of alighter points him in the direction of his contact standing in the shadows. In the darkness we can hardly see their faces, just the whites of their darting eyes, and their voices are scarcely audible above awhisper. Deep Throat, not wanting to be quoted by Woodward, speaks in riddles – himself aliminal figure, caught between the government he works for and his desire to help the press get the truthout.
All three of Woodward and Deep Throat’s meetings occur in asimilar fashion, and are all moments of significant development in the investigation. Setting these scenes in the dark, transitional space of the parking garage emphasises the precariousness of their situation: it’s hard to “follow the money”, as the famous quote goes, when the truth lies hidden, obscured by both literal and figurative shadow. In the darkness, Woodward gradually realises their proximity to something much bigger than aslush fund or an orchestrated break-in. Something which could wholly undermine the nation’s trust in its government. The word ‘liminal’ derives from the Latin ‘limen’, meaning ‘threshold’, and Woodward and Bernstein symbolically stand on the threshold of uncovering amuch wider conspiracy. Whether they choose to cross this boundary and run the risk of destabilising the entire political landscape is the dilemma theyface.
These shadowy scenes are even more impactful in contrast with those set in the messy, brightly-litWashington Postnewsroom. The majority of the film takes place here, on aset which was meticulously realised by production designer George Jenkins. He photographed, sketched and observed the realPostnewsroom, and in afeat of hard work and attention to detail very much in the spirit of the film, he faithfully re-created its sprawling mess of phone books, calendars, paper, typewriters and telephones. Carl Bernsteinsaid that Jenkins had “recreated it down to the trash on our desks”, calling it “a verisimilitude Inever quite expected from the movie business”, and Jenkins would go on to win the Academy Award for Best Art Direction alongside set decorator George Gaines.
Gordon Willis also went togreat lengths to light the set with fluorescent, migraine-inducing overhead lamps similar to those used in the real newsroom. The effect is aharsh and chaotic mood in the many scenes where Woodward and Bernstein juggle phone calls, scramble to note down information and, perched at their typewriters, illuminate the truth with their words. This stark visual contrast of both space and lighting further highlights the depth of turmoil and shadow in those liminal garage scenes.
All The President’s Menends with the two journalists still deep in the throes of their investigation, working at their typewriters while footage of Nixon’s second inauguration is broadcast on aTV in the newsroom. Asplit diopter shot holds both the television set and the two journalists in simultaneous focus, neatly contrasting the official party line with the truth uncovered by their reporting (there’s asubtle comparison to be made here with Sidney Lumet’sNetwork– also released in 1976 – about television’s obstruction of thetruth).