On the bitterly cold afternoon I went to see Frost/Nixon, the marquee had spelled the second "N" of Nixon's name backwards.
Those of us too young to have ever seen Nixon on live TV know him from Futurama as a sociopathic tyrant with a werewolf's accent. His flopsweat during the Kennedy debate is legendary. And as the movie itself says, Nixon's Watergate crimes are so notorious that to this day, any American political scandal is immediately suffixed with "-gate."
But who's really got the last laugh here? The guy whose name is synonymous with criminal failure, or all the rest of us whose names mean nothing at all? I've got to give it to Tricky Dick "Only Sitting President to Ever Resign" Nixon, that's who. That's why my plan, if my secret dreams of being a dashing playboy novelist are ever shattered -- oops, cat's out of the bag -- my backup plan is to go on a tri-state spree of candy heists. It's everything you could ever want: fresh air, getting to see some country, and the knowledge that, whatever else happens, I'll always be known as that sick monster who mailed his ex-girlfriend a box filled with the severed heads of a thousand chocolate gummy bears.
It's the mid-'70s, and though Nixon (played by Frank Langella) has resigned, he never stood trial, Ford pardoned him, and the American people have been left angry and unsatisfied.
Seeing this anger on TV, playboy talk show host Michael Sheen (as David Frost) has visions of turning it into ratings by landing a Nixon interview. Others have tried, but Sheen has two things the big networks can't or won't offer: a boatload of cash, and a reputation for frothy irrelevance.
Nixon and his advisors see it as an opportunity for him to acquit himself in the all-important court of public opinion. Sheen's team of investigators see it as a chance to give Nixon the trial he never had. But both sides have underestimated the other: Sheen's not as daft as he seems, and Nixon is far more charming and slick than his reputation suggests.
Here's how surreal this job can be: mere days ago I was watching Sheen as a bulked-up idiot shrieking about werewolf suffrage, and here he is holding his own against Langella's brilliant take on one of the nation's most behated presidents.
It's Langella's performance that elevates a competent, enjoyable struggle of wills into something moving. How do you evoke sympathy for a man who's almost universally reviled? Witchcraft! Toad-powdering, goat's-blood-spattering witchcraft, and this is the final proof director Ron Howard is up to his talented neck in it.
It's either that or the way he and the Peter Morgan-written script treat Nixon as a human being rather than a sweaty, hotel-ransacking bogeyman. In showing both his charm and his naked greed, his callous manipulation and his pathetic need for love and respect, Nixon is explained without being exonerated.
That's an honest-to-goodness artistic achievement. Not content to rest there, Frost/Nixon penetrates more sharply into what drives people to great deeds than most biopics can muster. The answer? Not nobility or the urge to improve the human condition, but insecurity and vengeance. Think about that next time a firefighter saves your life. Wait, do more than think about it, tell him about it. Especially if he's holding one of those big axes.
Most of its depth doesn't arrive until the second half, but up to then things remain brisk, funny, and well-acted. Though the concept of two dudes yakking at each other may not sound compelling, Frost/Nixon nails the cultural significance of its story every step of the way.
Grade: A-