January 28th, 2009 Graig
This is the time of year people hit the “culture” films in response to the Oscar buzz, and I can’t say that I’m exempt. Of course, many of the films that receive commendation I saw (or intended to see) in advance of any awards being won, but there’s still an attraction that the Oscars create. While I did always intend to see Frost/Nixon, it might have become one of those films on the “meant to but never did see” list, primarily because of it’s director.
I shouldn’t come down on Ron Howard, afterall he’s a decent (if not exactly groundbreaking) director, and one of the men responsible for getting Arrested Development on the air (for which I’m forever grateful). But at the same time, Opie is a generic director, making movies not quite for art but for the general populace. He’s got more than a few success stories under his belt (Apollo 13, The Da Vinci Code) so it’s not surprising that Frost/Nixon has also been well received.
While technically it’s not a remarkable movie (the camerawork and editing are adequate, the set design and costuming not bad), and its story is rather a simple one to tell (adapted from a book, retracing fairly recent history), what it all comes down to is acting. And while the supporting cast, including Kevin Bacon, Oliver Platt, Sam Rockwell, Rebecca Hall and Tobey Jones (and, of course, Clint Howard) is necessary to tell the story, the whole thing rests in the laps of Michael Sheen and Frank Langella in their respective titular roles.
Sheen’s Frost is a congenial, well-mannered, motivated individual, a playboy rife with charm but rarely letting his smile down. He’s a talk show host, a television presenter of banal triviality, and it’s only in his desire to hit the big time that he courts Richard Nixon, virtually hidden from public since his resignation. Langella’s Nixon, on the other hand, is a brilliant mind with no lack of charisma himself, he’s tortured by his failure and going stir-crazy in his retreat from the public eye. He seeks redemption, but on his own terms, and, incongruously, he also seeks a challenge. Frost’s proposal may be the soft journalism that he needs to put him back in a positive public eye, while at the same time, he hopes he can get a respectable challenge from the young Brit.
Villainized over the past three decades, I’m not sure most young people actually know much about Nixon. I didn’t. All we tend to know is Watergate and his legacy of suspicion that’s surrounded the Presidency since. The movie paints him in hardly a heroic manner, instead as a man defeated, with history already telling that there’s no hope for a resurgence. You almost feel sorry for him, until you understand his philosophy on life and people, on power and responsibility, at which point it’s hard to reconcile the friendly, aging man with the bulldog that bites.
Sheen handles Frost with mostly reactionary looks. It’s the facial gestures and body language that say so much more than the words out of his mouth. A man who has bitten off more than he can chew is basically Frost’s side of the story, and it’s the shift when it becomes not about money or good television but the truth, about reputation, about legacy that he starts taking it seriously.
Howard’s direction is perfunctory, it captures the story, but not so much the intimacy that the actual broadcast interviews had. It’s a behind the scenes, and it is compelling viewing. I wasn’t overly thrilled with the attempt to turn it into a documentary (with the supporting actors giving “talking head” “interviews” with the camera, telling small elements of the story in retrospect), but it’s so minor it could have been omitted.
Langella’s performance is great, completely Oscar worthy. The film, though enjoyable, not so much.
(Alternate Title - “Frosty Nixon: Who Can Thaw Out This Tricky Dick?”)
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