It is a testament to how well-behaved Republicans have been, that for the last three decades, the Left hasn't found a better receptacle for their hatred than Richard M. Nixon.I'm sure Ron Howard and Co. believe their film goes overboard in being fair to him (that's what swell, morally-superior guys they are), even though the only "gotcha" moments in the film belong to David Frost and his minions, who, if they were Republicans, would have been charged with Hate Crimes, so vitriolic was their animus toward RN.
As in all biopics, the best lines and scenes are completely fictional: private off-the-record conversations and late night drunk dialing by, who else, but the sodden and disgraced ex-President. Nevertheless, the film is worth seeing -- no matter how you come down on whether a petty burglary was sufficient to overshadow Nixon's many and notable accomplishments -- because Frank Langella's portrayal of the fading and failing politician is, to put it mildly, astonishing. He captures the gravitas and graveness of Nixon in a way that is nothing short of amazing. Wearing little apparent makeup, but not succumbing to jowl-shaking, Langella so completely inhabits RN's junkyard dog scrapper personna that I believe even Nixon himself would admit he was well served by his actor avatar.
Having seen Howard's other films, and witnessed his clunky direction, I'm inclined to give most of the credit for this performance to Langella himself. Why he didn't get the Academy Award can only be explained by Hollywood's fist-clenching, howling hatred, not only for Richard Nixon, but for anyone who doesn't portray the man as an ax-murdering psychopath.
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