By Erica Balanc
Staff Writer
I was not alive in 1977 when British TV broadcaster David Frost sat down with former-president Richard Nixon for a series of four interviews. I can only imagine what it must have felt like to be an American at that time. An image that has always stuck out in my mind–an iconic image for all–is Richard Nixon boarding a helicopter with his arms stretched out and his hands making two peace signs (or “Victory” signs). I always recognized it as an image of deceit, with a man so bold as to have a smile across his face when it should be showing shame. In Frost/Nixon, a semi-fictionalized account of the interviews, based upon Peter Morgan’s stage play (who also wrote the screenplay) and directed by Ron Howard, David Frost (played by Michael Sheen, who also starred in the play) simply catches this image on the television, as well as something more: a sad and frightened look on Nixon’s (played by Frank Langella, who also starred in the play) face as he puts his arms down.

The infamous meeting between Frost and Nixon
The first thing Frost wants to know is how many people were tuned in. The man is ambitious, and the opportunity to interview someone like Richard Nixon he is certain will boost his career. Not too deep in, he realizes that it could, in contrast, potentially break his career. People think he is out of his league; he should stick to interviewing actresses, not politicians. His team consists of his producer, John Birt (played by Matthew Macfadyen), and two investigators, Bob Zelnick (played by Oliver Platt) and James Reston, Jr. (played by Sam Rockwell). Reston, in particular, clues Frost in on how important these interviews will be: it will be the trial that Nixon never had, and a chance to corner him into admitting how wrong he was. There is also Caroline Cushing (played by Rebecca Hall), a woman whom Frost met on the plane-ride to the States, and invites along to meet Nixon. She doesn’t seem to offer much to the situation (or the film), other than keep the space under Frost’s arm warm during this ride. Zelnick, Reston, and Birt don’t let him forget that their reputations are at stake, but Frost, who financed much of the the two-million dollar operation himself, is the one who must take Nixon down.
Nixon, followed around by his loyal chief-of-staff Jack Brennan (played by Kevin Bacon), admits that being pardoned by President Gerald Ford stopped him from being able to say what he wanted to tell the public (though not an apology). He has an offer from CBS to do an interview, but a higher offer from Frost (initially both are primarily interested in their financial welfare) is what he accepts. The way he walks and acts, you’d never imagine that alone in bed at night a man like this could cry at the shame that overcomes him. No, he is quite optimistic when he meets Frost, shakes everyone’s hand, and sits down for the first interview with a handkerchief by his side, because his upper lip collects sweat. When the camera starts rolling, that is when the film begins.
The comic relief that fills up too much of the rest of the film is put on hold as the two men sit face-to-face against a darkened background. The looks on their faces and the words from their mouths are all that matters. We are watching more than just what aired in 1977; we know what is running through Frost’s mind as he struggles to break through the facade that the rambling Nixon has cleverly built up. In the beginning of the film, Nixon is described as America’s own “boogeyman.” As the interviews continue, Nixon becomes Frost’s own boogeyman, making him so on edge that when a bulb blows in one of the lights on set, Frost is the only one to jump. In the match of Frost vs. Nixon, it is up to Frost to break Nixon in the final round. The fourth interview, the one that everyone (in the film and in the audience) is waiting for, is Frost’s last chance–and he does his homework. Standing out against some comparably visually-underwhelming scenes, the scene is, as should be expected, the best in the film, containing the intense, infamous line: “When the president does it, that means that it is not illegal.” Ron Howard manages to take what were already considered powerful close-ups and magnify them, thus magnifying the words of Frost and Nixon.
In 1977, the Frost/Nixon interviews drew the largest television audience ever, up to that point. Nixon had resigned from office almost three years before, yet the public still wanted to hear what he had to say. In 2009, the intrigue surrounding the man still resonates among people now. Perhaps it is because the American public can imagine the interviews occurring presently, with a different presidential player. As someone who wasn’t alive when the events depicted in Frost/Nixon occurred, I find the film’s true success is its effectiveness today.