Frost/Nixon, Langella/Rockwell

Frost/Nixon is, of course, about the infamous interview in which a very minor celebrity -- who admittedly referred to himself as a performer more readily than as a journalist -- entered the history books by, against all odds, not only landing an interview with former President Richard Nixon, but also being the first person to get Mr. Nixon to publicly admit to engaging in a cover-up.

On another level, Frost/Nixon is about a contrast between two very different great performances. On the one hand, we have the more obvious of the two, Frank Langella, who nails Richard Nixon so precisely that from the very first moment he appears on screen, we feel that he was born to play the role. It's actually quite amazing how much he resembles Nixon, in both face (his make-up is minimal, especially when compared to such artificial transformations as that of Anthony Hopkins) and voice (which he doesn't have to change at all, although he does slightly alter his speech patterns to mimic Nixon's). Yet there is more to Langella's performance than a mere resemblance to Nixon. With the help of writer Peter Morgan, Langella paints Nixon not as a caricature, but as a man who, paradoxically for one who had so much to hide, wore his emotions on his sleeve for all to see. Morgan depicts Nixon as a man who delights and even excels in playing mind games with his adversary (for that is indeed what David Frost was from the beginning). Amiable when he should be defensive, devilishly throwing social curveballs just before the cameras roll, and always quick with a justification and an anecdote to make himself seem folksy, Nixon is here presented as a man who borders on outright villainy, but is saved from such a label by his own delusions that he is ultimately a good guy, that he and Frost are kindred spirits. One seeks to bury the truth, the other seeks to uncover it, but in Nixon's mind, these contrasting goals are merely two sides of the same coin. He has fun with the whole concept, and if this eventually leads to the overconfidence that resulted in his downfall in the Frost/Nixon interviews, Morgan shows how this turn of events could have seemed like a surprise to a man like Nixon.

As Frost, Michael Sheen gets the job done. His performance is a bit too broad, as if somebody forget to tell him that this isn't a comedy, but a political thriller. By the time the movie gets to the final interview -- the scene that matters most -- we are accustomed enough to Sheen's interpretation that the scene remains effective, but the end result is the same: Although we are clearly meant to, we never quite identify with Frost; he remains a cinematic archetype, the Man who Must Fight the Odds to obtain his goal.

If the film has an everyman, it's Jim Reston, played by Sam Rockwell, and here we get to why Frost/Nixon plays like a contrast in great performances: While Langella gives an undeniable tour-de-force, Rockwell makes his character believable as a guy you might know. His outrage at Nixon's crimes go beyond political belief; he actually feels emotionally hurt by Nixon's actions. Even the juxtaposition delivered by Rockwell (and the film has a great deal of exposition, which many actors consider the toughest task for a performer) feels natural and familiar. Initially, I was taken aback by how well Rockwell inhabited such a role, which made me realize he has never played an everyman before -- he's been the goofball, the wacko, the sociopath, the best friend, but even in his lead performances, he's never been called upon to play just a Regular Guy. Here, he does so with a naturalism that invites you into his world, and makes you feel that even if you don't know Jim Reston himself, darned if he doesn't remind you of someone you can't quite put your finger on.

Langella was nominated for an Oscar for his performance, and rightly so. But Rockwell's performance is arguably the more impressive one, and if it was overlooked as a performance -- well, that's kind of the point.