When I first watched this film, I had no idea about any of the details of Watergate whatsoever. I mean, I was a burnout in high school, I barely paid attention. I knew the broad strokes, and that was it. Richard Nixon was impeached for spying on and sabotaging his political rivals and it all came to light because a handful of burglars got caught breaking in to National Democratic Headquarters, which were located in an apartment complex known as “Watergate”. The story was revealed due to a couple of reporters at the Washington Post, Woodward and Bernstein. That’s it, that’s all I knew. I didn’t even know Woodward and Bernstein’s first names. Just the bare minimum (I mean, I think ANY American should know that much, no?).

Now, of course, I know more than your average person. Eventually my love for this movie would lead me to read the book, and I’m a sucker nowadays for anything related to Watergate on PBS or the History Channel or wherever. Which is a nice compliment to the flick in and of itself, right? That my love for the movie led me to explore its subject more deeply, yada yada. But that’s not where I’m going with this.

What I’m saying is, I fell in love with this movie without having any idea what the %#$& was going on.

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