I was kinda loath to see this when it was in theaters. Ron Howard is kinda meh these days; tons of other stuff--The Wrestler, Curious Case, The Reader, Milk, and Slumdog Millionaire--were also concurrently on the big screen; rehashing Watergate seems so forced; and having an actor play Nixon could not possible be good. In many ways, I was wrong.
Taken as a piece of entertainment, Frost/Nixon is just awesome. Frank Langella gives a performance that, while rightfully undeserving of the Best Actor honor, will stand as a crowning achievement for sure. David Frost is pulled off delightfully by Michael Sheen, who stands toe-to-toe with Langella in the key verbal battles. The film's style, especially in the beginning, is thoroughly engrossing; Howard's decision to weave in and out of "key player interviews," real footage, and historical recreations is as masterful as his execution. It speeds along quite economically while doing justice to the breadth of the story, keeping the viewer rapt but also informed.
HOWEVER, the film, even to a layman of Watergate like myself, is rife with flaws. Of course, there were always going to be people on the left saying Howard was too easy on Nixon, just as there will be rightwingers brushing the film off as the work of an Oliver Stone protege. That isn't really my quibble here. My quibble is with Howard's recreation (read: creation) of events. So much of what is featured in Frost/Nixon just did. Not. Happen. It's a bit of a lame Catch 22 in that regard; the movie wouldn't be good if no artistic liberties were taken, but if these liberties are taken, it does a disservice to the historical quality of the film. This is perfectly fine in say, Saving Private Ryan, because the film is so fairy-tale in its very nature that accuracy isn't wholly crucial. In Frost/Nixon--at least from my perspective--it is.
And so when you get the late-night "cheeseburger" conversation between the two of them; the totally unsubtly-partisan lines written for Nixon when in the confidence of his chief of staff, Jack Brennan (played... admirably by Kevin Bacon); or the boy-oh-boy-come-the-fuck-on Rocky VII reincarnation in Frost's final-interview surge to glory, you wonder a bit. "Really? I mean, really?" It's not even that it seems forced and awkward--it's simply that you know, deep in your heart, that this scene and that line and that look are mere fabrications, created for the sake of making a watchable film, but still created. And it distracts terribly from the viewer's faith in the entire production. I mean, I love JFK -- JFK -- but for some reason, the liberties taken here irked me.
Only a little, however. I do have to reiterate that the film was wonderfully shot, nearly perfectly acted, and very thrilling, especially considering the very non-thrilling constraints the filmmakers were working amidst. It's more than worth seeing.
