Frost Nixon Interview
Given the success of Ron Howard’s film: Frost/Nixon, many people will undoubtedly want to watch the original interview upon which the film was based. The incident has also been immortalised in film with All The President’s Men – an account from the perspective of Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein, the journalists who broke the story of “Watergate”.
The term “Watergate” has become so firmly entrenched in our lexicon, that “-gate” is a common suffix used to describe just about any controversy that people have tried to cover up. So, too, the term “Deep Throat” has often been used (more comically, for obvious reasons) to describe someone “in the know” who discloses secret information.
The Watergate scandal was the first major revelation of American political misconduct. Its legacy is present today in the scepticism with which American politicians are regarded. It was earth-shattering when the deeds were revealed, but there were startling reverberations which lasted several years, one of which, was Gerald Ford’s contentious pardon of Nixon’s wrong-doings. John Dean’s testimony has been studied by political psychologists, eager to gain an insight into truth and self-deception. But perhaps the most striking after-shock came courtesy of an interview between Nixon and a British political satirist turned interviewer: David Frost.
In 1977, three years after Nixon was forced to give up public office and after years of silence surrounding Nixon surprised everybody by selecting David Frost to conduct his first major interview since his departure from public office.
Perhaps he thought that Frost would be an inhibited, mild-mannered English man. Who knows? It certainly seems clear that Nixon, with his initial conviviality and toothy smile, probably thought the interview would exonerate him of all responsibility and enable him to re-capture the hearts of the American public.
What he hadn’t counted on, was a well-briefed, quietly persistent interviewer, who most likely had his own agenda: the opportunity to establish his credibility as an interviewer.
The collision of these agenda make for fascinating viewing: far more compelling than any fictionalised account (not to detract from Ron Howard’s fine film). There is something uniquely gratifying in watching the original footage in its entirety.
The interview, which took place more than three decades ago, was watched by more than fifty million Americans. Given Ford’s summary acquittal, it was largely considered to be Nixon’s trial by media.
This is an interesting DVD to watch repeatedly: the first time, to get the overall feel for the interview, and with subsequent viewings to scrutinise the “tells”, as they say in poker: the subtle changes in facial expression that flash almost imperceptibly across Nixon’s face, as he realises that he’s in deep water. When the toothy smile has evidently failed, Nixon resorts to a battle of semantics, which he hasn’t a hope of winning.
This interview was conducted more than three decades ago. But the current debate regarding ex-President Bush’s responsibility for the conduct at Guantanemo, and the recent disclosure of misdeeds committed by a local council here in Melbourne, prove that the Frost/Nixon interview was a groundbreaking event in ascertaining our rights to expect those in power to be accountable for their actions.