In adapting a play to the screen -- even an award-winning play such as this -- a screenwriter or director can fall into one of two traps. On the one hand, the staged nature of either the dialogue or the actors makes for dull viewing on screen, creating what Alfred Hitchcock once… More
In adapting a play to the screen -- even an award-winning play such as this -- a screenwriter or director can fall into one of two traps. On the one hand, the staged nature of either the dialogue or the actors makes for dull viewing on screen, creating what Alfred Hitchcock once described as "photographs of people talking". On the other hand, to combat this, the spectacles surrounding the action become too dominant and the film loses focus; by moving the action to an exotic location with impressive but unnecessary visual effects, the audience is needlessly distracted and compromised.
Thankfully, Frost/Nixon falls into neither of these traps. Ron Howard's direction is understated and unfussy; he shoots every scene, from the most trivial entrance to the gripping final interview with a silent sensibility, never feeling he has to prompt the actors to work harder in creating the mood, or deciding to help them with unnecessary camera angles. Despite the fact that the film's subject is a series of television interviews, the film never risks becoming 'televisual'. The camera is an observer to the process of making TV, without becoming TV itself.
Of the central performances, the most remarkable is Frank Langella as Nixon. While wisely choosing not to do a completely accurate pastiche, he embodies most of the Nixon mannerisms we know and love (or not). Thus he completely dissolves into the character, and we are able to go with him because we are not conscious that he is acting, or if we are, then we are not sufficiently irritated by his gestures that we get distracted.
Michael Sheen eventually becomes a match for him, although for the first few minutes there are more signs of parody than accurate performance, and occasionally he smiles in the way that his Kenneth Williams did in Fantabulosa!, causing audiences to raise an eyebrow. However once the largely expository first 20 minutes is over, we beginning to realise what makes his Frost tick, how he manages to be both ambitious and misguided, and eventually we find ourselves taking his side in the final interview. He never inhabits Frost in the same way as Langella does -- perhaps a reflection of his growing fame rather than a dearth of ability -- but the final interview sequence is particularly brilliant on his part.
In supporting roles, there are also many good turns on both sides. Kevin Bacon chews up the screen as the sinister, Milgram-esque Paul Brennan, Nixon's Chief-of-Staff, in what is probably his best performance since Apollo 13 (also directed by Howard). Rebecca Hall acquits herself very well as Frost's love interest, even if she is easily mistaken for Imogen Heap until the credits come up. And Sam Rockwell gives a great performance as Frost's fiery researcher, another example of complete immersion in the role. It's certainly hard to believe that only nine years earlier he played the retarded murderer Wild Bill in The Green Mile.
There are, however, a few problems with this film. Both the first 20 minutes and the ending are a little loose. The opening sequence is confusing, intercutting between Nixon as played by Langella and television clips surrounding the Watergate Scandal. Howard is clearly trying to place the events of his resignation in context for those unfamiliar with history, but to do this in this way confuses the audience. If you're going to have Nixon, Frost et al. played by actors, why not have the likes of Gerald Ford and others like him played by actors too? It would have been relatively easy to identify them, even through the use of strap-lines on the TV clips. The ending too, with the exchange surrounding the phone call, is also poorly executed. The phone call as a plot device works -- even if it didn't occur in real life, it helps explain Frost's transformation in the final interview -- but the final conversation between Frost and Nixon feels staged and fake as they struggle to tie up that loose end.
Comparisons were always going to be made between this film and Oliver Stone's Nixon, which ends where this film begins. But where Stone clearly has an axe to grind, squandering the best that Anthony Hopkins can offer in the pursuit of a point-scoring caricature, Howard's film creates a compelling portrait of Nixon which is neither overly sympathetic nor unnecessarily damning. It is definitely Howard's best film since A Beautiful Mind, and shares with that a sense of understatement in the face of grandeur that the likes of Stone and Michael Moore just don't understand. This is a highly compelling film, by no means a masterpiece or a completely accurate history lesson, but a powerful showcase of acting talent and political drama at its best.