What happens when politicians shut themselves away, and stare into an abyss both political and personal? After Bruce Anderson’s revelations about Gordon Brown yesterday, I think we need to know. So I re-watched Robert Altman’s 1984 film Secret Honor last night, looking for a bit of elucidation.
Secret Honor gives us a fictionalised, post-Watergate Richard Nixon. He locks himself in a room – not with a computer and the garbled recollection of a Dominic Grieve quote, but with a bottle of scotch and a loaded gun – and delivers his political testimony to a tape recorder. That’s what we get for the next 90 minutes.
Stephen yesterday referred to Brown’s actions as “more that political paranoia”. But that doesn’t begin to cover the Nixon on display here. He constantly checks the four surveillance monitors in the corner of the room, whilst spitting crazed monologues to an imagined jury.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in