Tribeca ’16: Elvis & Nixon

Generations of Americans grew up with the reassuring presences of Elvis Presley and Richard Nixon. You can’t get much more iconic than blue suede shoes, the swiveling hips not on The Ed Sullivan Show, Checkers the Dog, and the Pumpkin Papers. It turns out the two men had more in common than the general public generally assumed. Liza Johnson gives the famous late December 1970 summit meeting a thinly fictionalized treatment in Elvis & Nixon (trailer here), which is now playing in New York after screening as the centerpiece of this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.

In late 1970, Presley was already a regular fixture in Vegas, but it would be eighteen months before he cut his milestone cover of “Always On My Mind.” The Gospel-singing man from Memphis has had enough of the hippies, New Left agitators, and Black Panthers he sees on television. After shooting out the TV (because he’s Elvis), he decides to fly to DC in order to meet with Pres. Nixon. The King has a half-baked notion of becoming a “Federal Agent At-Large,” not that such a thing exists.

To fulfill his mission, Presley slips out from under the Colonel’s thumb, calling on his old friend and former Memphis Mafia member Jerry Schilling to coordinate the logistics. Of course, even in 1970, nobody could just walk into the Oval Office, but Elvis Presley could get closer than most. He finds a key ally in Egil Krogh, the White House policy specialist on narcotics, who not so realistically envisions the King serving as a powerful spokesman for the administration’s anti-drug campaign.

Elvis & Nixon is a surprisingly gentle and nostalgic film that truly forgives the foibles of its subjects. Johnson and the trio of screenwriters, Joey Sagal, Hanala Sagal, and actor Cary Elwes, zero in on the common ground shared by the two Horatio Alger figures. Frankly, it is downright shocking (in a good way), how steadfastly the film resists taking pot shots at the Nixon administration figures.

Although not an obvious candidate, Michael Shannon turns out to be an inspired choice for Presley. Granted, he hardly has that resonate baritone voice, but he can do Presley’s aura and bearing without resorting to shtick. He powerfully conveys both the pride and regrets of the man they still call “King.” As an added bonus, he shares some quietly effective scenes with Alex Pettyfer’s Schilling. On the other hand, it is harder for Kevin Spacey to avoid sliding into impersonation terrain as our beloved and reviled 37^th President. At least his Nixonisms never feel vindictive or cheap.

Watching the eccentrically simpatico chemistry shared by Shannon and Spacey will make viewers regret the famous 1970 meeting was a one-off. You can almost see Presley and Nixon being the sort of friends they really needed, because unlike Bebe Rebozo and the Memphis Mafia, each was completely separate from the other’s world. Regardless, it is strangely entertaining to watch the two legends eat M&Ms and drink Dr. Pepper together. Recommended rather affectionately, Elvis & Nixon is now playing in New York at the Landmark Sunshine and Bow Tie Chelsea, closely following its centerpiece screenings at the 2016 Tribeca Film Festival.

Our Nixon: We’ll Always Have Him to Kick Around

These days, when the NSA knows what’s on your Netflix queue and the IRS might audit you if you have too many John Wayne movies on it, one cannot help feeling nostalgia for the Nixon years.  Indeed, it was a more innocent era, when the government was secretly taping itself.  As if there were not enough tapes already, it turns out three of Nixon’s top aides also happened to be keen amateur super8 videographers, who constantly documented the history unfolding around them.  The not very widely seen home movies of H.R. Haldeman, John Erhlichman, and Dwight Chapin are blended together with generous helpings of news footage and other kinds of tapes in Penny Lane’s docu-collage Our Nixon (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

It is hard to get a handle on just what exactly Our Nixon is, starting with whether it is a feature film or a television special.  One of the first releases from CNN’s new theatrical arm, it has already aired on the second place cable news network.  Some have also taken issue with its subversive (some might say deceptive) editing style, in which the ellipses between events portrayed on screen are glossed over.  Strict historical chronology takes a backseat to sly, ironic humor.  That would be fine, provided the labeling was a bit more accurate and up-front.

Be that as it may, there are telling moments in Our Nixon, but rarely with respects to its ostensible subject.  Frankly, the film ought to be called Our Haldeman, Erlichman, and Chapin.  On good terms up until the bitter end, the three top aides apparently filmed each other as much as R.N., if not more so.  Haldeman in particular emerges as a rather decent sort, caught up in a whirlwind not of his own making.

With regards to the big question, Lane’s samplings essentially exonerate Nixon of any premeditated complicity in the original break-in.  Ironically, it was pretty clearly his compulsive need to micromanage the response (cover-up) that brought him down.  Still, Penny Lane (cue trumpet solo) did not set out to do any favors for Nixon’s image, choosing clips that accentuate his insecurities and craven craving for approval.  Poor Haldeman often sounds like Nixon’s shrink.

Our Nixon offers some decent material on the Nixon’s visit to China, but there is nothing particularly invaluable or newsworthy here.  The film has no surprising revelations, no smoking guns, and no secret Salinger novels, just some jokes regarding everyone’s squareness.  Almost as much a work of cultural history as political history, it is interesting to parse the film’s time capsule images.  Still, there is no escaping the slightness of the film (regardless of its authority or lack thereof).  Arguably, Our Nixon really is better suited for television viewing.  Nonetheless, it opens theatrically this Friday (8/30) in New York at the IFC Center, largely for Watergate junkies who missed it on CNN.