One way or another, the old adages always seem to ring true. With Ron Howard’s Frost/Nixon, there is no questioning this one: Practice makes perfect.
Which is why having Michael Sheen (Music Within) and Frank Langella (Starting Out in the Evening) reprise the stage roles they took on in London and New York was a stroke of genius from Howard. As the title characters, they bring completely different but equally compelling brands of charisma to the director’s (The Da Vinci Code) dramatic retelling of the famed broadcast.
Banking on the strength of those personalities, Frost/Nixon develops into something far more than just a vivid piece of American history. These interviews went beyond a simple series of questions and answers – they were a toe-to-toe bout between a pair of the era’s most alluring figures.
In one corner, we have the recently disgraced former President Richard Nixon. In the other, unproven, though cordial, British talk show host David Frost. The entertaining battle of the wills is as much about mutual respect as it is heated rivalry, with redemption at stake on one side and vindication on the other.
Adapting his own play for the silver screen, scribe Peter Morgan (The Queen) adeptly crosses creative boundaries that could never have been expanded on stage. Presenting the film as a pseudo-documentary, Morgan enhances the historical ambiance by splicing retrospective interviews into the narrative.
Frost first thinks of the idea while watching Nixon’s famed resignation speech on Aug. 8, 1974. When new President Gerald Ford pardons Nixon, the stage for Frost/Nixon is set. The man who committed the greatest political felony in U.S. history never had to stand trial, leaving Frost to elicit the no-holds-barred Watergate confession Americans so desired.
Squeezing every last penny he can out of Frost, Nixon and his agent, Swifty Lazar (presidential movie authority Toby Jones, W.), agree to the record fee of $600,000 for four 90-minute segments. Along with his producer, John Birt (Matthew Macfadyen, Death at a Funeral), and researchers Bob Zelnick (Oliver Platt, Martian Child) and James Reston Jr. (an excellent Sam Rockwell, Choke), Frost prepares for the taping, only to find American networks aren’t exactly jumping to help finance the project.
With both men’s reputations on the line, the interviews are a true back-and-forth slugfest. As the broadcast takes a break, advisers rush in with guidance and encouragement. Both Frost and Nixon shift strategy throughout, doing whatever they can to come out on top, since, as Nixon puts it, “the limelight can only shine on one of us.” And ironically, the most intense scene between the two actually takes place when they aren’t even sharing the same room.
Howard doesn’t glorify or villainize either side, instead fairly portraying both men for their flaws and their strengths. In fact, the only central character who does come across as one-dimensional is Nixon’s cold, laughably loyal aide, Jack Brennan (Kevin Bacon, Rails & Ties).
Langella, who won a Tony Award for his onstage portrayal of Nixon, not only bears a stark resemblance to the shamed president, but also masters Tricky Dick’s dry humor, amusing eccentricities and forlorn nature. Most importantly, he does all of this without straying toward the trap of a cartoonish impression.
Sheen, meanwhile, effortlessly embodies Frost, masking a certain inner vulnerability through infectious charm and energy. Although many pundits are handicapping Langella as Frost/Nixon’s better shot at a lead actor Oscar nomination, leave no doubt about it – Sheen carries this film.
There was concern Frost/Nixon might strive too hard for Oscar gold, falling victim to an overdose of ultra-dramatized Hollywood glitz. While Morgan admittedly creates a heightened sense of reality, Frost/Nixon consistently avoids the outlandish filmmaking some feared it would entail.
Instead, what we have is thematically heavy storytelling at its finest. Coming off his underwhelming take on The Da Vinci Code, Howard returns to form with the type of elegant character study he so thrived with in A Beautiful Mind. So skeptics, rest assured – the Howard of 2001 is finally back.
tfloyd1@umd.edu
