Lights, Camera... Talking

Rating: 6/10 (3 February 2009)

You could be forgiven for having been completely unaware of the interviews between talk- show host David Frost and disgraced ex-US President Richard Nixon before the publicity blitz of this film. However, director Ron Howard and screenwriter Peter Morgan would want you to think that it was one of the most important moments for politics, journalism and basically American culture in modern history, and are willing to spend two hours to convince you of just that. Whether or not you end up believing them is one thing, but you can't doubt their tenacity and the fact that they very nearly succeed is thanks in no small part to the committed cast, particularly (and unsurprisingly) Michael Sheen and Frank Langella, who serve as the titular acting duet.
Langella may be the one getting all the attention for his stooping, roaring performance as the proud, dying lion that is Richard Nixon, and it is easy to see why. Mimicry being what mimicry is, he naturally and effectively disappears inside the role, and the entire film seems built to serve his performance (even pointing it out as Frost is criticized by his team for allowing Nixon to dominate the early interviews). However, it is Michael Sheen who quietly steals the film away from him, not only bringing the much needed pathos to a film that could otherwise have just been two arrogant men talking to one-another, but also imbuing the film with a surprising lightness of touch. In particular, the early scenes establishing Frost's character  the loud suits, the self-assured flirting, the ridiculous celebrity embellishments  are very funny in Sheen's capable grasp. It seems at first that he may just be doing his Tony Blair again, the role that made him famous in both The Deal and The Queen, but so sleight is Sheen's hand that you won't notice as the cocky smile weakens and the shifty eyes deepen that he has turned the character completely inside-out.
While the film is all about Frost and Nixon, however, with a cast featuring such heavyweight character actors as Sam Rockwell and Oliver Platt, there is some great acting from the sidelines as well, and it all serves as a welcome distraction from the weight of Peter Morgan's screenplay, which is almost as self-aggrandizing as David Frost himself. Morgan is a fine writer, and as he has proved with The Queen and The Last King Of Scotland, he is extremely adept at making engrossing stories and compelling characters out of episodes of history that wouldn't immediately seem to lend themselves to theatricalising. Along with Ron Howard, himself a consistently strong, adept filmmaker, he has created an absorbing, well-paced tale (apart from the misjudged documentary structure it has given itself), successfully finding character arcs in what is a very talky piece as the publicity-hungry Frost soon begins to realise that his selfish reasons for wanting to conduct the interviews  fame and fortune in America  pale in comparison to what his team, and the entire American public, expect of them  the trial Nixon never had to face over the Watergate Scandal.
However, Morgan is ultimately unable to escape from the inherent problems that the story itself brings with it. The film obviously fancies itself a call for the necessities of journalism on this age of Fox News, or a topical parable about a despised ex-President marred in scandal being brought to justice (how many Americans must wish that someone like David Frost was around nowadays?) but there is no ignoring the fact that the Frost/Nixon interviews were merely a relatively inconsequential event here being treated as if they were life-and-death.
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