The primary reason, I believe, we cherish cinema about great journalism is because we don't see enough of it around in the inept, tabloid-worshipping media all around us.
It is the ultimate genre for crusader cinema, people taking it to the man because -- well, because it's their job to, not because they share a theatrical sense of taking a stand or martyring themselves. Truth and justice aren't an option, they're the job order.
And that black-and-white bottom-line is what bestows the leading men and women in these movies with complete credibility.
Having said that, this particular film isn't a stellar example of such gold-ribbon journalism. This isn't All The President's Men or even Good Night, or Good Luck -- where journalists are the clear leading men.
We all know how the interviews eventually pan out, (if you don't, enjoy the film first and save all the Google-YouTube research for later) and the fact remains that David Frost -- who went on, really, to become one of the finest and most iconic presenters -- didn't really get Nixon's goat.
He wanted to shove Nixon into a corner, and squeeze a confession out of him with his back to the wall, but that isn't what happens.
Which makes Frost/Nixon doubly interesting. It doesn't quite choose a side.
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