Starring Michael Sheen and Frank Langella. Rated PG. Opens Friday, December 12, at the Cinemark Tinseltown

Given the cowards, sheep, and gibbering cheerleaders we’ve grown used to recently, it has become increasingly difficult to recall when journalists actually went after presidents who broke the law.

But gather ’round, children, and listen to the tale of Richard Nixon, who waged an immoral war, lied about it constantly, and was felled by his role in a two-bit burglary. He was particularly undone by Washington Post writers Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward, as documented in All the President’s Men, both the book and movie.

Compared to the reporters’ Deep Throat skullduggery, British chat-show host David Frost was a decidedly lightweight choice to tackle the already deposed Tricky Dick. But it was Frost’s own choice, an attempt to hitch his own flagging wagon to the unmet desire of Americans to comprehend how a prez could go so Shakespearean on their asses.

In Ron Howard’s formulation—opened up but faithful to the long-running play by Peter Morgan, who wrote his own screenplay—the fluffy-haired TV personality (played with magnificent carelessness by Michael Sheen) knew he needed to nail Nixon (Frank Langella, reprising his Broadway triumph) on his unconfessed guilt over Watergate and more; Frost just didn’t know why he needed that. None of the U.S. networks knew why either, so Frost put up his own savings to stage the interviews; even in 1977, Nixon didn’t do nothin’ for nothin’. Drawing heavily on actual transcripts, the well-constructed tale gives plenty of space to angry researcher James Reston Jr. (Sam Rockwell) and indie producer Bob Zelnick (comic reliever Oliver Platt), with some moments for Frost’s sexy new girlfriend (Rebecca Hall) and Nixon’s frosty ex-marine aide (Kevin Bacon). In the end, Howard sees the match as an almost medieval sparring bout, with each man out to prove himself without the benefit of true self-awareness. And that’s still ahead of where we’ve been so far this decade.