David & Goliath
In
Washington in 1972, a break in was intercepted at the headquarters
of the Democratic National Committee at the Watergate Hotel. The
‘thieves’ were not your average 'break & enterers'
and had links to the secret services. Before long a connection
had been made between the thieves and the President’s staff
and ultimately the President himself. The investigation leading
up to Nixon’s resignation to avoid impeachment is still
one of the greatest scandals in modern political history and his
pardon by the succeeding president, Gerald Ford, only increased
the public outrage. Peter Morgan has written a nice line in screenplays
(The Queen, The Last King of Scotland, even
Henry VIII) about alteration of a powerful individual's
image by a necessary but less powerful person. A film of Frost/Nixon,
his first play and another of these scenarios - this time the
famous image is rendered infamous - is on the way too.
Although Nixon's involvement with the 'Watergate'
scandal is generally well known now, partly due to the famous
David Frost interview, no preparation is required to enjoy the
play. The background is jointly sketched in by pro and anti Nixon
narrators (from opposing sides of the stage) who eventually become
part of the action but occasionally step out of it, along the
lines of a classic American 'memory play', to address the audience
with opposing memories about the action as it unfolds. The loyalist
is his military chief of staff, Jack Brennan (Neil Pigot) and,
reminding us that Nixon was also responsible for the disastrous
handling of the war in Vietnam and beyond, the anti Nixon-ite,
Jim Reston Jnr (Teague Rook) also helps establish the hostility
felt toward Nixon.
The first act is taken up with the preparations
by the apparently light-weight talk-show host David Frost (John
Adam) with the isolated and depressed Nixon (Marshall Napier).
For Frost it seems as just another project he takes on because
he likes proving himself. For Nixon the interview appeals as a
chance to exonerate himself without the threat a more savvy political
journalist might bring. That he does for an unprecedented fee,
negotiated by his agent (Bruce Myles) adds greed to his already
tarnished character. Morgan’s Nixon is multi-suggestive
created out the facts and fantasies that surround the man. So
is the portrait of Frost. Frost is a charming but tireless self-promoter
and always hustling money and people for the Nixon interview and
his many other projects. That he happens to meet Caroline Cushing
(Kat Stewart), the ex-wife of a millionaire on the flight to Los
Angeles is too good an opportunity for this lothario to pass up
and they are practically in a relationship before the plane lands.
Nixon is a shrewd politician and uses his presence
to easily disarm opponents with his simple, almost naive behaviour.
At the same time Morgan still gives him a whiff of the two-faced
and underhand methods that are part of his myth. No sooner has
he agreed to the interview than he jokes to Brennan about placing
Frost under surveillance. When he later greets Frost prior to
an interview taping he inquires if he had fornicated the night
before. An attempt at 'blokey' familiarity from someone who by
his own admission is inept in social situations? The seemingly
tactless remark to playboy Frost however makes you suspicious
that Nixon still resorts to covert surveillance and has gathered
files on every aspect of his ‘opponent’ including
his very new girlfriend.
The second act concentrates on the interviews and,
despite the entire world knowing the outcome, they are compelling
to watch as recreated here. The stage has been divided vertically
in half. Across the top is a screen that has been projecting fairly
superfluous images in the first act (plates and cutlery in a scene
set in a restaurant, palm trees in scenes at Nixon’s West
coast home etc). As the interviews are taped the screen relays
the action taking place below and presents them as they would
appear on television. Initially Nixon swamps Frost in a smokescreen
of rambling anecdotes, Frost's obvious boredom and confusion and
Nixon’s bland but controlling triumph are writ large on
the screen above. However, when Frost deals the revelation about
the Nixon’s supposed knowledge of the Watergate break in,
every micro-spec of Nixon’s discomfort is displayed as he
squirms before the cameras.
As Nixon Napier does not give a specific impression
(like Nixon’s contemporary and still best antagonist Rich
Little). Physically Napier looks more like an elderly Sam Neil
but instead he suggests the voice, look, and importantly, the
social awkwardness masking equal measures of vulnerability and
deviousness. Although Morgan includes Nixon’s apology he
has written a play about Nixon acknowledging his flaws and failings.
They are presented in a way that gives him a an almost classical
tragic dimension in the way Morgan includes a phone call from
Nixon to Frost on the eve of the final session where Nixon half
reveals the chinks in his armour (Nixon as the frightened Richard
and Frost as the glamorous and fearless Richmond, the night before
the battle of Bosworth?). When watching Napier televised onto
the screen, however, he is magnetic as the shifty and shifting
gestures take over. Earlier Nixon confides to Frost that he dreaded
appearing on television, that he sweated and his never clean-shaven
enough complexion made him appear untrustworthy. Although Napier
can't sweat or grow and five o'clock shadow on command he makes
Nixon's discomfort palpable. Adam brings out the lucky streak
that most people thought Frost possessed. He is calm and immaculately
dressed at every appearance while his scruffy production team
crumble and crumple with the mounting stress. The character of
Caroline never quite makes an enduring impression on the play
or its proceedings despite Kat Stewart fleshing out an enigmatic
character down to a sophisticated Euro-American accent.
Roger Hodgman’s production features a simple
but extravagant set with the huge television screen and busy revolve
but maintains a focus on the way the famous story is recreated.
Quite rightly that television screen - that made Frost famous
and Nixon notorious in one fell swoop - is omnipresent. As a final
compliment, Paul Grabowsky (in Alfred Schnittke mode) has composed
scene linking music, a dissonant violin resisting a piano accompaniment,
suggesting the uneasy relationship between two instruments fighting
over who will be the soloist.
Michael Magnusson
To read more of Michael Mangusson's theatre reviews,
check out his blog at
On Stage (and walls) Melbourne.
