Ron Howard makes a tense, absorbing contest out of the Frost–Nixon interviews, with Frank Langella making Nixon uncomfortably sympathetic. The sporting structure makes the politics too tidy, but the two leads make it worth the compromise.
Ron Howard’s Frost/Nixon is an absorbing drama with a simplifying habit: it wants us to watch a television interview as we would watch a sporting contest. There is preparation, an apparent underdog and the expectation that somebody will prevail. Peter Morgan’s screenplay makes that an effective way into two men’s ambitions, even when it narrows our interest in what they are discussing. We recommend it for the actors and for the tension Howard gets from conversation. It sustains that tension through most of its 122 minutes.
Michael Sheen’s David Frost has the charm the part needs, and Sheen makes it feel like a professional skill that might fail him. His likeability matters because the underdog treatment could otherwise make Frost an irritatingly convenient person to support. We can enjoy his confidence while remaining interested in how well it will withstand another man’s scrutiny. The performance gives the contest some uncertainty, even though Howard works rather hard to tell us which man faces the greater challenge.
Frank Langella’s Richard Nixon is the stronger reason to watch, partly because the performance keeps obstructing an easy response. The intelligence and charm are there, along with a vulnerability that does not make him harmless. We felt an uncomfortable sympathy for him in the interviews, because Langella lets the need to be understood show through the effort to stay in control. He makes Nixon’s wish for a sympathetic hearing seem plausible without asking us to forget his capacity for manipulation. His Nixon can be likeable, and the performance leaves us wondering how much of that has been rehearsed.
Salvatore Totino’s cinematography is most effective when a close view of a face becomes sufficient action. Langella gives the camera enough to look at without requiring Howard to keep finding diversions from the conversation. Michael Corenblith’s production design keeps the television setting unobtrusive enough for the men to dominate it. That helps us notice how much of this contest concerns appearance. Both men want to control what the audience sees of them.
Editors Mike Hill and Daniel P. Hanley keep the preparations moving and make the approach to the interviews feel purposeful. The talking-head interludes are less helpful, interrupting a drama whose performances already tell us how much is at stake. We do not need quite so much assistance in deciding what matters. Hans Zimmer’s score adds to the pressure, though it can make the occasion feel grander than the exchanges justify. There is enough tension in the questions without further encouragement.
The limitation is Howard and Morgan’s enthusiasm for a contest with a clear result. Nixon’s political wrongdoing receives less attention than the question of how he will perform under pressure. That limits how much the film can tell us about him. We understand why an audience might root for Frost; we get less help in deciding what these interviews can actually establish. The film’s attention to vulnerability also softens Nixon enough to make us wish it had kept more of the danger that Langella occasionally suggests.
The familiar underdog shape makes this accessible without any specialist appetite for political history. We would have preferred a little less guidance about whom to back, especially with two actors capable of holding our attention unaided. Watch it for Sheen and Langella, with some caution about the history lesson.
