The beauty of the film lies in the detailing. Ron Howard is known more for his sincerity than his consistency, the director oscillating from the sublime to the schlocky, and Frost/Nixon finds him at his most skilful. The film weighs in at just over two hours, but it is the rare cinematic achievement that leaves you wishing for more, a film that makes you wish it was longer.
There are whispers of dissent, of course. The fact that Morgan's play and Howard's film climactically rest on a completely fictional phone-call belies the accuracy of the nearly-verbatim script itself, and there is something to be said against a film that ends up making you begrudgingly like at least some aspects of Richard Millhouse Nixon. You are, of course, merely smitten by Langella's performance, but a fact's a fact.
Yet we aren't rating this film on historical accuracy, or Frost on journalistic merit. I do admit that the presenter flounders cluelessly more than he ought, and that things do fall into place more because the President himself is weary and less because Frost has worn him down, but Howard keeps the punches strong, and the narrative rallies from round to round breathlessly, like at a boxing match.
Watch Frost/Nixon. It's wonderfully crafted, terrifically acted, and a film so perfectly balanced it's alarming. But in the end we ought to head back to fighting terms, talk about the movie in the squared circle, dust off those gloves. It's a knockout.
Rediff Rating: 4.5 stars
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