By Lee Pfeiffer
In a dumbed-down world, it's truly gratifying that director Ron Howard managed to convince a major studio (Universal) to back his screen adapation of the stage play Frost/Nixon. The play centered on the bizarre pairing of chat show host David Frost with former President Richard M. Nixon, who had resigned in disgrace over the Watergate scandal in 1974. In the ensuing years, Nixon kept a low profile and took only limited responsibility for the cover-up of the bugging of Democratic campaign headquarters. Nixon presented his main flaw as being too loyal to errant staff members, but never really apologized for his actions or spoke candidly about the fact that he was front-and-center in masterminding the cover-up. Howard's film presents Frost's painstaking efforts to convince Nixon to sit down for a series of in-depth interviews. At the time, Frost was considered a lightweight, amiable talent with no credentials for such a task. His star had begun to erode and he was presently hosting an embarrassing "Believe It-Or-Not"-type program for Australian TV. Ever the optimist, however, Frost was convinced that landing Nixon would be the coup of a lifetime - and he was smart enough to hire aggressive politicos as producers, who kept reminding him of the gravity of his responsibility. If he were to ask lightweight questions or let Nixon control the interviews, his reputation would have been permanently damaged.
Frost managed to basically bribe Nixon into doing the interviews by offering the money-hungry President a (then) whopping $600,000 fee. However, Nixon was more motivated by his opportunity to manipulate Frost into allowing the sessions to present revisionist history that would take the tarnish off his reputation. After landing the deal, Frost found out to his amazement that none of the American TV networks were interested in broadcasting the pieces. Even then, the networks were more concerned about presenting money-making entertainment shows than informing the public. The film presents Frost's panic-stricken attempts to salvage the project by getting independent financing and selling the interviews as syndicated specials. In fact, he shot the interviews before even closing the deal on how to pay for them. In the first three of the four interviews, Frost allowed the media-savvy Nixon to take control. The result was a boring rendition of history from Nixon's viewpoint, as the former President practically did cartwheels to avoid hard questions. Ron Howard's film really comes alive when Frost realizes that he has one opportunity left to nail Nixon to the floor by soliciting an admission of guilt in the cover-up and an apology to the American people. It's amazing how much suspense Howard wrings out of a scenario in which most politically-informed people already know the conclusion. Howard also does yeoman work in transporting the audience back to the 1970s. Everything feels genuine: the wide ties, peasant dresses, floppy hats and ugly furniture and wallpaper.
The centerpiece of the film, of course, are the performances of the leads: Frank Langella as Nixon and Michael Sheen as Frost. Both are simply brilliant. In viewing the trailer, one might think otherwise about Langella. At first glance, he doesn't look too much like Richard Nixon, however, within minutes you realize he wasn't setting out to do a cheap imitiation of the man like a drunk with a lampshade on his head. Langella captures every nuance of the Nixon's gestures, mannerisms and speech. It's an astounding achievement and should earn Langella the Oscar. As for Sheen, he is equally good, but once again, this superb actor is overshadowed by a more attention-getting co-star, as he was with Helen Mirren in The Queen. Yet, he's fascinating every step of the way, transforming Frost from a shallow skirt-chaser to a man who matures literally overnight in the wake of his greatest career crisis. The film also points out that both Nixon and Frost had much to gain or lose from this bold attempt to salvage their reputations. The screenplay does indulge in a bit of anti-Nixon wet dreaming with an epilogue that suggests he basically remained in shame and oblivion until his death in 1994. In fact, the Frost interviews were the first step in his long return to the public forum. Every president who followed him consulted him about foreign policy, even Bill Clinton who extolled Nixon's undeniable achievements in that area when he delivered his eulogy. Nevertheless, Nixon, who was perhaps the most complex political figure of the 20th century, never did escape his crimes and was haunted by his status as the only president to ever resign from office.
The movie's greatest pleasure is the build-up to the climactic interview, which centers on the Watergate crime. Both Nixon and Frost are prepped by their handlers as though this is a heavyweight boxing match. When the two men do finally confront each other over the most important topic, it's like watching Sherlock Holmes pitting himself against Prof. Moriarty. Both men consider the other their enemy, but there is a grudging mutual respect. The film, which is certainly anti-Nixon, never makes the mistake of making him into a cartoon villain. As with Oliver Stone's biopic about him, Nixon emerges as a somewhat sympathetic character - a man whose obsession with showing off the snobs that he could succeed, ultimately led him to prove their predictions of failure to come true.
Frost/Nixon is just one of a crop of refreshingly intelligent films released in 2008. Let's hope the trend continues.
(The film has been nominated for five Oscars:Â Best Director, Best Actor, Screenplay and Editing)