Secret Honor

"Secret Honor" is an actor's wet dream.

This screen adaptation of a one-man play stars Philip Baker Hall as Richard Nixon on the dark night that follows his resignation from the office of President of the United States. The film makes clear from the outset that it is not a representation of facts but rather a fictional exploration of the thoughts and feelings that may have been torturing Nixon at the time. Hall has the screen to himself and gives a fierce, if rather one-note, performance. The material isn't very deep and doesn't give Hall a lot of room to explore, but I suppose it succeeds on its own modest terms.

Robert Altman made this film at the apex of his disenfranchisement from the mainstream Hollywood system. He filmed it at the University of Michigan with the assistance of Michigan students, and the tiny budget and minimal resources show. It's not remotely cinematic, though Altman makes a solid effort to make it so. Though the action is confined to Nixon's private office, Altman frequently pans his camera over to a bank of security cameras that Nixon has trained on himself, so that much of the time we're watching an image of Hall on a T.V. monitor rather than Hall himself. The message is clear -- Nixon, and by extension any politician, is constantly performing, even in his most private moments. Once one takes the oath of the presidency, he can't ever stop being the president. How good a job would any one of us do under similar circumstances, and how harshly do we have the right to judge our leaders?

Admittedly, much of my lack of enjoyment of "Secret Honor" is my own fault. It made me realize how little I actually know about Nixon's presidency, which was over in the years just before I was born, and I wasn't able to understand many of the film's references. As is often the case, my knowledge of the more distant past is greater than events that have occurred within my lifetime.

Grade: B

If you ever get a chance to see this film, grab it! Phillip Baker Hall doesn't simply portray Nixon, he inhabits him. The familiar hunched shoulders and odd poses employed by every Nixon impersonator, in Hall's hands seem less like imitation than brilliant artistic choices, revealing the inner struggles of a remarkable, tormented man. No disrespect to Anthony Hopkins, unquestionably a very talented actor, but his Nixon doesn't hold a candle to Hall's.

This is of course a work of fiction, but like the best fiction it lies in order to reveal a deeper truth. Nixon never made the tape we see him creating through the course of this film, but what is revealed through it is both psychologically and historically honest. The portrait that emerges is unsparing and sympathetic. Nixon emerges as a hero in a Greek tragedy with the same grandeur and the same tragic flaw.

Fans and critics both of Richard Nixon will find their judgements challenged by this complex, revealing portrait. Even someone who has never heard of Nixon couldn't help but be fascinated by this powerful, complex man.

Note to PT Anderson fans: According to Anderson, this was the performance that convinced him he had to work with Hall. It's no accident that Anderson's first full-length film, Sidney (or Hard Eight), was a showpiece for Hall's amazing talent.

"You, ladies and gentlemen of the American jury, shall look at the face that is under the mask!" - Philip Baker Hall (Richard Nixon)

It takes 12 minutes for Robert Altman's "Secret Honor" to really get going, the audience having to endure some terribly dated TV music and lots of theatrical posturing by Philip Baker Hall, but once the actor begins his meaty monologue, it's hard not to be transfixed.

Hall, of course, plays former president Richard Nixon. Recently disgraced by the Watergate fiasco, he prances about his private office with a loaded gun and a glass of whisky, spewing scorn at the Kennedy's, Helen Douglas, Henry Kissinger and a mysterious group called both "The Committee of 100" and "The Bohemian Grove".

Employing students from the University of Michigan, and a script that sticks religiously to a stage play by Donald Freed and Arnold Stone, "Secret Honor" is a fairly small scale project for Altman. Still, there are at least four interesting things being done.

The first is the film's location. Altman doesn't use his small set with the same gusto that Stone does in "Talk Radio", Hitchcock does in "Rear Window" or Lumet does in "12 Angry Men", but he does add his own little flourishes here and there. For example, Altman surrounds Nixon's room with wall-mounted pictures of past presidents and places a huge bank of security monitors to one side. The effect is such that Nixon, whose monologue takes the form of a courtroom plea of defence, is addressing a jury that is at once himself, we the audience and those political figures he both admirers and detests. There's therefore a sense of profound scrutiny, Nixon waging a war for his own innocence, politicians over his shoulders, a security camera in his face, a national audience behind his back and a bank of monitors recording his every move.

The second interesting thing is Hall's performance itself. Unlike Stone's "Nixon" or Ron Howard's "Frost/Nixon", "Secret Honour" is categorically not an attempt to portray some "ultimate truth" of Nixon. Instead, Altman creates something more fragmented; a creature with different faces, facets and feelings. Altman demonizes as he humanises, deconstructs as he constructs, each of Hall's anecdotes serving only to further muddy the water. Altman's Nixon is both raging bull and wounded child, Altman content to create a portrait that is as baffling as it is complex.

The third interesting thing is Nixon's insistence that it was a mysterious group of powerful figures who orchestrated and mismanaged his career. He calls them "The Bohemian Grove", a cadre of economic power brokers to whom Nixon is nothing more than a paid lackey and perpetual outsider. Even as he damns them, Nixon mourns that he was never fully accepted by this group.

The fourth interesting thing is Nixon's insistence that he staged Watergate deliberately in an attempt to get himself out of office. This claim is filled with ridiculous reversals. The honourable president made himself guilty, he says, committed a deliberately obvious crime, not because he was a paranoid, power hungry mad man, but because he was too noble, too just and great, to associate further with the cartels, criminals and deplorable politicians who were pulling his strings.

Watergate thus shifts from becoming a criminal act, to an act of nobility. Nixon, the man so used and abused that he had to sacrifice his own career for the greater good. Poor boy.

7.9/10 – This is essentially filmed theatre. Still, Hall delivers a fascinating monologue that is both riveting and demented. Incidentally, Altman pretender Paul Thomas Anderson would use actor Philip Baker Hall extensively throughout his filmography, casting him in "Sydney", "Magnolia" and "Boogie Nights". Worth one viewing.

Made 11 years before Oliver Stone's "Nixon", with Anthony Hopkins, Robert Altman's direction of Philip Baker Hall in his gritty portrayal of Richard Millhouse on his last night in the Whitehouse, rehashing out all his problems over a bottle of scotch. Fumbling and bumbling around the office with tape machines and casting vague hints into the real motives and players behind the whole debacle. A very watchable and interesting film for anyone interested in Nixon/Watergate. A better film than Oliver Stone's version in spite of a much smaller budget.

(for the Laserdisc notes: aspect ratio is 4:3)

It's interesting to know some background of the film. First, Secret Honor began as a stage play written by Donald Freed. Altman toured it around the country. These notes are derived form the commentary tracks on the laserdisc.

The filming occurred while Altman was in residence at the University of Michigan. The set was constructed in a residence hall and video cameras were installed so that students could observe the production. Graduate students in the film program filled many of the technical positions.

The play was shot on 16mm film, which was then enlarged to make 35mm release prints. Consequently, the photographic quality is rather flat. There's no denying the power and accomplishment of Philip Baker Hall's performance, however.