All the President's Men

I didn’t expect a film about men on phones and typewriters to feel even tenser on a rewatch, but All the President’s Men still hums like a thriller. You already know how Watergate ends, yet watching Woodward and Bernstein inch towards the truth feels oddly nerve-racking, like you’re waiting for the penny – or the presidency – to drop.

Pakula turns newsroom grind into cinema: long takes, quiet corridors, that cavernous Library of Congress shot. Redford and Hoffman are great company, all frayed nerves and stubborn curiosity, backed by a parade of beautifully sketched side characters who seem one bad decision away from disaster.

What lands hardest now is how modern it feels. The film isn’t just about Watergate; it’s about who gets to define reality when power is cornered. In an age of spin, bots and “fake news”, its faith in painstaking, unshowy journalism feels almost radical. One of those rare films that deepens every time you return.