The President’s Analyst

Dr. Sidney Schaefer is chosen by the U.S. government to serve as the president’s top-secret personal psychoanalyst, a decision that comes through a referral from Don Masters, a CIA-like operative who vetted him while undergoing his own introspective work. The assignment is approved over the objections of Henry Lux, the small, sharp-tongued head of the all-male Federal Bureau of Regulation (FBR). Lux’s quip-filled, vacuum-cleaner-inspired nickname echoes through the tale as a sly reminder of the era’s satire. Schaefer is installed in a comfortable home in Georgetown and given an office that connects to the White House by a hidden tunnel, ensuring he can be reached at any hour to fit the president’s relentless schedule.

Yet the job comes with a strange, almost existential isolation: there is no one he can truly speak to about the president’s private problems. As stress compounds, Schaefer begins to feel watched at every turn, until paranoia takes hold. He even doubts the affections of his girlfriend, Nan Butler, suspecting she might be an agent of the very agency that vetted him. All of his fears, the movie suggests, have a grain of truth. To complicate matters, he has a habit of talking in his sleep, a detail that only deepens the sense that he is constantly under scrutiny.

Soon Schaefer finds himself in a dangerous game, fleeing with the help of a seemingly ordinary New Jersey family who shield him from foreign agents intent on kidnapping the president’s confidential briefing. His escape is aided by a colorful, rebellious current of counterculture—a hippie tribe led by the emblematic Old Wrangler. Together they dodge pursuers from multiple nations who want the insider information he possesses.

The chase broadens as the U.S. intelligence apparatus, led by the FBR, presses hard to neutralize him. He is captured and briefly taken by Canadian Secret Service operatives posing as a British pop group, only to be rescued by Kropotkin, a Russian agent whose loyalties become murky as he contemplates defecting from the KGB. Kropotkin aims to spirit Schaefer away to the Soviet Union, but a revelation during a psychoanalytic session with the doctor causes him to rethink his plan and return the psychiatrist to U.S. soil.

The twists don’t stop there. A new kidnap attempt comes from The Phone Company (TPC), a shadowy Organization that dwarfs the CSS and the FBR in its menace. Schaefer is hauled to TPC headquarters in New Jersey, where he confronts a leader who reveals himself to be an animatronic robot—invented for the company’s audacious, dystopian scheme. The plan hinges on the Cerebrum Communicator (CC), a futuristic device that can link every mind to a single digital network. With CC implants, everyone would be numbered, not named, and the world would be wired in an invisible, global phone system.

The TPC pitch unfolds with a close-up on the roboth leader, signaling the cold ambition behind the scheme: to control humanity by eliminating personal identity in favor of instant, brain-initiated communication. Schaefer is pressed to aid in steering the president toward legislative support for this radical overhaul. The company even illustrates its grand design with a brief animation—a spoof of the era’s animation style—explaining how the CC would function across the globe.

In a dramatic reversal, Masters and Kropotkin spring into action, using their espionage skills to rescue Schaefer. They place him back in action and, armed with an M16 rifle, he makes a striking, almost gleeful stand against the Phone Company’s security forces. The trio triumphs over their adversaries, and though the immediate danger ends, the story lingers on a holiday-season echo. Months later, Schaefer and his allies gather for a Christmas reunion, while animatronic executives from the Phone Company watch a secret monitor—and the final image is set to a festive, bittersweet note, as “Joy to the World” swells in the background.

Last Updated: October 09, 2025 at 10:43