there are many things to savour in this exquisitely uncomfortable 1971 interview with Richard Nixon, who evidently felt the same way about Christmas I do. Among them:
- the grim determination with which he sets about describing Christmas as a 'rich and happy day', even though he can clearly feel the blood freezing in his veins as he does so.
- the way he leaps at the subject of 'trains', hoping it will whistle him away from the horror of the conversation at hand. His speech speeds up, he begins to babble, and you sense him clinging on to the topic for dear life (the editor cuts it short, so we'll never know how far this diversion took him).
- the relief with which he falls on his dogs, getting down to their level and obviously hoping he can stay there and never have to return to this conversation or any other human interaction ever again.
- the final moments, particularly the gloom with which Nixon intones his hope that 'it's a happy time out there for everybody', and the anguished sigh that meets his interviewer's wishes of good fortune. Dead air fills the studio. Even Mrs Nixon steps away from him, as if his misery might be toxic.
