Television, Movies and The Presidency: A New Series - Frost/Nixon (2008)

 

 

Introduction

During most of the 20^th century almost every major artistic medium whether it was Broadway, film or television went out of its way to either never deal with the Presidency or when it did to frame in the so called ‘great man’ theory. None of the leaders of our nation whether they were FDR, Wilson or Lincoln were shown as anything but saints incarnate with no hints of the kind of flawed individuals they were.

This remained a sad truth almost to the end of the 20^th century. Even when it came to such monsters as Richard Nixon, there were a few who tried to show them as human being if not saints. This was sadly the judgment of almost every historical drama that America or Europe would produce: there was almost no nuance and the leaders of the country were always the good guy with no nuance. However when cable channels like HBO and Showtime began to enter the TV movie industry they slowly but surely began to paint more complete pictures of the occupants of the White House. This almost always led to immense pushback from historians and those who were survivors of that period and it has led to controversy on many of those projects but I believe it was the best thing.

During the 21^st century with the rise of Peak TV and the work of a few brave filmmakers and playwrights we began to get more rounded pictures of many of the Presidents that we had long considered either great or even just mediocre. Movies have improved a bit in the last two decades and some filmmakers will attempt the rounded package. Mostly, however, that burden has fallen to cable and streaming to tell the kind of layered complex stories about our chief executives.

Now as anyone who has read my column for the last few years you know all of these three of these things – film, American history and criticism – are all my sweet spots. And for a while I’ve wanted to do a long-term project looking at how film and television have been portrayal the men who have occupied the White House, both on an artistic level and for historical accuracy. The former has always been easy to judge for me; the latter more difficult. But I now feel more than qualified to do both.

This series will deal with the films and limited series that had covered our Presidents. Because many filmmakers cover the same ground I expect multiple entries on the same Presidents. I’m also relatively certain that there will only be a certain number of Presidents who get covered in these columns: it’s not like anyone’s ever done a biopic on Millard Filmore and I suspect no one will do a limited series on the Harrison dynasty any time soon. And because this is going to be a historical series I’m going to follow the same guideline I did when it came to ranking the Presidents last year: I’m stopping at the end of the 20^th century. There is quite a bit of material on W, Obama, Trump and even some on Biden in the cinematic and TV archives but for reasons that should be obvious I’m not going to look at them in this series. (Maybe in ten years, but not now.)

What I hope to illustrate is how these storytellers have used our past to illustrate our present. In the majority of these cases they are objective – more so than I could be, I should mention. In all of them they use some exceptional actors and writing to illuminate historical figures in scenarios we are very familiar with and some we know too little about. Almost none try to use the ‘great man theory’ of politics – though in some cases, I need to be clear they do let the bias show. I hope that readers all along the ideological spectrum will find these films and TV shows and look for them with an unbiased eye. Now more than ever we need to learn from history in  order to make sure we don’t make the same mistakes.

 

Frost/Nixon (2008)

Written by Peter Morgan

Directed by Ron Howard

 

“It is not enough for me to win. My opponent must also lose.”

 

This piece deserves a bit more of an introduction then some of the others will get. And like all the pieces in this series I won’t hide my personal opinions on the figures involved.

As my readers might be aware I live in New York, which means that every so often I see a play on Broadway. Sometime in 2007, not long before its limited run was about to end, my family and I went to see Frost/Nixon. At this point I had barely embarked on my writing career and was nowhere near as knowledgeable about Hollywood as I would be when I started writing for medium in 2016. I only knew who Peter Morgan was for his screenplay The Queen, which I had seen and loved the previous year. That was also the first time I had any experience with Michael Sheen who even at that juncture was one of Morgan’s favorite actors and had played Tony Blair for him on HBO quite a few times. I knew who Frank Langella was, mainly from a few movies but not the kind of actor he could be. And  I knew nothing about the David Frost interviews of Nixon or why anyone would consider them worth writing a play about.

The play ran with no intermission and it was absolutely riveting from beginning to end. Langella, who would win the Tony for his work, was extraordinary as Nixon and Sheen, who had played Blair with tact and subtlety, showed a certain edge of the smarminess that I associated with David Frost from what little I knew about him. (Much of that, I should point out, was through that many of the members of Monty Python had worked for him at one point and based on Eric Idle’s portrayals of him, they seemed to hold him in contempt.) It was an extraordinary experience.

Later that year Ron Howard bought the film rights and while several big name actors wanted to play the title roles (I heard that Jack Nicholson and DeNiro had wanted to play Nixon) Howard insisted on having Langella and Sheen recreate their work on the silver screen. Howard cast many great character actors in several key roles. Sam Rockwell took on the role of James Reston, Kevin Bacon played Jack Brennan, Oliver Platt played Bob Zelnick. Most of the rest of the cast was unknown to me in 2008. I had no idea who Matthew MacFayden (John Birt) or Toby Jones (he did a brief role as Swifty Lazar) were and the only reason I’d heard of Rebecca Hall was that she also appeared in Woody Allen’s Vicky Christina Barcelona that same year. There was Oscar talk almost from the moment the film was announced.

However when it debuted in theaters that November I was reluctant to see it in the theater because I’d seen it on Broadway. I was already fond of filmed versions of plays to be sure but that didn’t include wanting to see one of a play I’d just seen live. I was going to see it but when it ended up on video or cable. I had to be talked into seeing by two friends. And within twenty minutes I was as riveted as I had been watching the same story on stage.

Now I need to make my historical opinion known. In his four star rave for the film Ebert admitted how horrible Nixon was but asked “I would infinitely prefer him in the White House now than its current occupant.” Now I’ll grant you how utterly dreadful W had been during his term (and we had yet to feel the full effects of the financial crisis that happened on his watch) but I never agreed with Ebert on that and I can only justify the usually saintly and foresighted critic of having to deal with Bush fatigue.

Nixon has always struck me as the most dangerous man to ever occupy the Presidency. I don’t deny all of his aspirants to that title ever since for their levels of monstrosity, especially the current occupant of the White House, but in addition to all of his other bad qualities Nixon was cunning in a way that I really don’t think Reagan, Bush 43 and probably not even Trump really were. Nixon wasn’t just evil; he understood the corridors of power because he had already spent the better part of 20 years working them well before he won the White House in 1968. All his successors were underestimated by the media because they were judged as incompetent and intellectually lightweight – “what kind of moron would vote for W?” is the attitude I remember. No one thought Nixon was dumb. The reason they thought no one would ever elect him President was because America had countless opportunities to see how monstrous he was and they believed America would follow the better angels of its nature. Nixon understood better than any politician to that point how to manipulate the worst parts of the body politic and turn into the will of the people.

I also think (and may make it clear in a separate article) that America was extremely lucky that the true nature of Nixon’s evil were laid out in such a way that even his greatest defenders couldn’t refute and that it was clear before every branch of our system that he had no choice but to be forced out. Nixon only became President because so many things happened in the 1960s; he only lost the Presidency because of a similar chain of events. The former he was able to manipulate enough to win the White House in 1968; the latter he could not.

What the opening moments of Frost/Nixon make very clear is that a similar divide is being formed even as Nixon resigns on August 8^th 1974. In it James Reston says that watching Nixon resign rather than feel joy he felt incomplete. “There was no admission of guilt. No apology.” Morgan will show the way the liberal establishment felt about Nixon his entire career but it also illustrates the kind of polarizing opinions that Nixon always inspired – and in a sense has come to illustrate so much of the media ever since when it comes to who they love and who they hate. In that sense, the quote that started this review (attributed to as many sources to Kissinger or Vince Lombardi) could apply to the researchers attitude when it comes to the interviews.

Nixon’s political life is over but for Reston and Zelnick, even more than Frost, is a desire for blood. Reston and Zelnick want America to see the Richard Nixon they have hated all these years. They want to hold him accountable in the eyes of the public for the monster that he was in the White House. At one point Reston says: “I want to give Richard Nixon the trial he never had.” It’s a noble statement but in 1977 America, except for his most die-hard defenders (such as Brennan) already are convinced as to Nixon’s guilt. Howard emphasizes this by having footage shown of America’s hostile reaction to Ford’s pardon of Nixon and the angry letters received by the White House. (“FDR had his New Deal. Truman had his Fair Deal. Ford had his Crooked Deal.”)

It’s worth remembering Ford’s actions were done in order for the country to move past everything Nixon had done and he suffered the political consequences, very likely losing election to the White House in his own right as a result. The reaction of the masses to it was judged hostilely at the time, bravely decades later and in recent years as a historical blunder given our current political situation. The latter opinion, I should add, is held by the same kind of liberal media that always judged Nixon so harshly when he was in office and which men like Reston and Zelnick would be a part of today. I’ve argued in a different article that I don’t believe a fair trial of Nixon would have been possible in 1974 or even years later and that even if it had ended in a guilty verdict (which again, I’m not convinced could have happened) how would our country handle the logistics of putting a former President in prison? Upon discussing this with a historian of the era (who still can’t decide if Nixon should have been tried) he admits even if the verdict was guilty Nixon would almost certainly still have to be pardoned, in which case what would the point of a trial be?

These questions likely never occurred to Morgan (and may not have even been considered at the time) The play is after all about David Frost as much as it is Nixon. To his immense credit Morgan makes it clear that the interviews mean something far different to him than what his researchers and likely the people he represents want. Of course Frost is British and has the benefit of detachment from the situation that America does. He sees the millions of people watching the Senate Subcommittee Hearings and all the people who watched Nixon resign and sees the possibility for a media event.

For him there’s a different context: Frost had an American late night show in the 1970s that like so many during the era couldn’t survive the juggernaut that was Johnny Carson. He’s a success in Britain and has shows in other parts of the world but having had a taste of success in New York, he is hungering for it again. Unlike his researchers -  but critically, like Richard Nixon – he understands the power of the medium and what it represents to America. Like the song says, if he can make it here, he can make it anywhere and he wants to get back.

Frost is in Australia when Nixon resigns and comes to John Birt initially with the idea of the project. Birt is incredulous: “Last night you interviewed the Bee Gees!”  “Weren’t they great?” Frost responds. Initially he fails at his attempt to get Nixon who suffers an attack of phlebitis. Not long afterwards he’s writing his memoirs and has hired Lazar –  arguably the most famous agent in the 20^th century – to try and sell it. He pitches Frost and it’s clear that Lazar may have the best handle on how to manipulate men like him. He calls him in the middle of the night and Frost makes an offer half a million. “Do you think you could get $550,000? Nixon asks. “I got six.” Lazar brags.

While flying to LA Frost meets and picks up Caroline Cushing (Hall) who comes with him to San Clemente for the two’s first meeting. Frost gives him a check for $200,000 which Nixon knows it not only likely out of his own pocket but possibly the only money he’ll get. We see Frost fighting with the networks for airtime and after they all turn him down, he decides to syndicate it himself. He ends up hiring Zelnick (Platt) who is the ABC correspondent for DC and Reston who at this point has already written four books about him. Reston is combative from the start, particularly considering Zelnick went to bat for him, making it clear that he already thinks this project is beneath him. When Frost learns that Mike Wallace has already run a story about the project diminishing him in particular, it clearly stings but he allows Reston to stay.

Morgan goes out of his way to show that in the years leading up to the interview both men are doing things that are far beneath their dignity: we see Frost giving an interview for an escape artist in Australia and Nixon giving a talk to the Houston Society of Orthodontists. Frost has to essentially raise all the money from his friends and we see him battling for sponsorship even up to the initial taping.

What’s striking watching the days leading up to the taping is how little regard even in rehearsal Zelnick and Reston show not only the subject but in a way the man who’s working on the project. Zelnick plays Nixon in the interview segments and it’s very clear in the way he responds to questions that he has no respect for the man. Tellingly both he and Reston mention that Kennedy and LBJ started the Vietnam War and immediately brush past it; we see very clear that they are examples of the liberal media who Brennan talks about on the day of Nixon’s resignation. This is a more than valid historical point, one that generations have basically chosen to ignore in their vilification of ‘their boogeyman’. And they show contempt for Frost right up not only before the taping but as it goes on. It’s clear they do think of him as a talk show host and a performer – someone who is beneath their dignity.

Even more interesting is Reston’s reaction when the interviews begin. He says that this is the first time he’s met him and he’s upset that the former President is not only taller than he expected but not ravaged with guilt. Zelnick asks if he’s going to shake Nixon’s hand and Reston insists he won’t. The moment Nixon offers it, he does so after barely a beat – something Zelnick rags him immediately afterwards. This is likely a subtle commentary by Morgan on how academics live in a separate world from the one they write about: later they attend Frost’s birthday party and are starstruck to see that Neil Diamond is singing.

Also notable is how both sides view the interviews. I find it interesting that Reston views it as a trial and Nixon’s team views it as a battle or duel. This is very much how the far left and far right seem to view politics and much of society in a microcosm: Reston sees this as the rule of law, Brennan as a blood sport. If you ever needed a reason why the Republicans have done so much better in electoral politics to this day, there’s clearly a metaphor as to this.

Both Langella and Sheen do everything that they did in the performance I saw but the camera does help in a way it might not on the stage. Langella gets to play a side of Nixon that had never truly been shown on screen, even by Anthony Hopkins in Oliver Stone’s film. Nixon is trying to find a way to rehabilitate his image and sees the Frost interviews as that possibility. We see a bit of the elder statesman in his behavior when Frost appears, genuine amicability among Brennan who clearly is a die-hard supporter and then a sense of the manipulator in the sessions before the taping starts. He manages to manipulate Frost so subtly in the first sessions the viewer might not be aware of it the first time and then when Frost has been briefed, he waits seconds before the cameras roll to say: “Do any fornicating last night?”  At no point does Langella attempt to do a Nixon impersonation; that would be beneath the skills of his legendary actor. What he tries to give to do is give a portrayal of the public face of Nixon while allowing for a look at what lies beneath with a glance. Small wonder Langella received a Best Actor nomination for his work.

Sheen, as is his lot in life, has a harder job. He has to play someone who has a well-known public persona, who is openly charming and who is not particularly well respected in public life – and do so acting like he knows all of this but is putting up his on-camera persona at all time. And unlike Nixon who has the office of the Presidency which offers some respect David Frost doesn’t even have that among his own team. Only John Birt respects him and will say in private what Frost won’t. It’s only after the third taping when Reston actually calls him a talk show host that Frost comes close not only to snapping but finally shows his misery at how bad things are going for him.

The highlight of the film, as with the play, comes with what almost certainly a fictionalized late-night conversation. A drunk Nixon calls Frost late at night when Frost is at his nadir of despair and Nixon should be at his zenith. He tells him he’s read Frost’s file and talks about their tragedy:

No matter how many awards or column inches are written about you, or how high the elected office is, it’s still not enough. We still feel like the little man. The loser. They told us a hundred times, the smart asses in college, the high-ups, the well-born. The people who’s respect we really wanted. Really craved. And isn’t that why we work so hard now, why we fight for every inch…Isn’t that why we’re here? Now the two of us. Looking for a way back into the sun, into the limelight. Back to the winner’s podium…We were headed both of us for the dirt. The place the snobs always told us we’d end up. Face in the dust, humiliated all the more for having tried. So pitifully hard. Well, to hell with that! We’re not going to let that happen, either of us. We’re going to show those bums; we’re going to make ‘em choke on our continued success.”

When it’s over Frost acknowledges that: “But only one of us can win.”

When this piece played out on stage and Langella hung up, I remember the audience spontaneously bursting into applause, which rarely happens in a traditional play. Langella brings that same power into this monologue as well and it is magnificent. Morgan uses this fictional conversation as Frost’s motivation to double down his work in the leadup to the final taping session which fills up much of the last third of the film. Historical scholars and those who saw the interviews no doubt remember why that was such a critical moment, but it is not my place to reveal it  here.

Morgan goes out of his way to argue this was a victory for David Frost and the power of the medium. It points out that Nixon was never able to publicly rehabilitate his reputation when he was alive. Death and future Republican Presidents have no doubt managed to accomplish that as Ebert’s own review made clear and I suspect future viewers might come away with the same impression.

What may be the most significant moment in Frost/Nixon is one that I doubt was in the play and is almost ignored in the film. One of the members of Nixon’s team is a very young Diane Sawyer. Her character has no real dialogue  but I’m always reminded of when both teams go into different rooms when the taping begins and Zelnick seems to be always looking daggers at Sawyer who just meets his stare evenly. Sawyer of course has gone on to be one of the most respected broadcast journalists in television history but I have little doubt that there have always been those like Zelnick who viewed her with suspicion for ‘working with the enemy’. Sawyer has long been part of that ‘liberal media’ that Nixon famously chastises and I suspect that those who worked for Roger Ailes and the cable news networks that followed never forgave her for betraying her ‘conservative roots’.

Were the Frost interviews of Nixon a stepping stone to the era of polarizing of cable news that we see today? Roger Ailes did cut his teeth interviewing Nixon after all and he famously worked with Lee Atwater in Reagan and George H.W. Bush’s political campaigns in 1984 and 1988. I have no doubt he watched these interviews with great interest and perhaps started thinking of a way that future Republicans could find more comfortable settings where the questions would be more fair and balanced. He certainly understood the power of television as well as David Frost did.