The exception in an awards season of shallow glitz and glamour

With its slew of Oscar nominations, Ron Howard's latest film, "Frost/Nixon," runs the risk of disappointing audiences. This is, after all, a year in which fellow nominees have turned out to be bloated, flawed films whose visuals trump any real substance. But thanks to stirring lead performances, Howard easily meets expectations, delivering a methodical, rich film about a seminal post-resignation interview with former president Richard Nixon that surpasses simple caricature.

Screenwriter Peter Morgan has made a career of a scripting some of the most monumental moments of contemporary British history, notably the death of Princess Diana in "The Queen." In "Frost/Nixon," Morgan adapts his own play to the screen, focusing on a president (Frank Langella) whose abuses of power defined a troubled era in American history. The film opens with a montage that covers the Watergate controversy and the president's resignation in 1974, quickly establishing how the conniving leader polarized the nation as he sidestepped prosecution. Debonair British TV host David Frost (Michael Sheen), described by one character as "a person who achieved great fame without possessing any discernible quality," looked like the last person capable of forcing a confession from Tricky Dick. But in an extensive 1977 interview, Frost aimed to do just that. Their meeting had the potential to shape the rest of their lives: Frost wanted to prove he was not a mindless interviewer, while Nixon had the opportunity to cement his legacy in front of the cameras.

Nixon is the most harshly lampooned president, often depicted as either ruthlessly Machiavellian or crazed and inept. Best Actor nominee Langella takes advantage of his passing resemblance to the controversial leader to force the viewer to rediscover Nixon's humanity. His layered performance imbues the suffering politician with a complexity absent from past depictions. After suffering the humiliation of resignation, Nixon appears lost, lamenting that his life no longer has purpose. Though brittle, Langella gives Nixon a compelling energy that underscores how the awkward, brusque man succeeded in a world of politics typically driven by superficial charms.

Seconds before the cameras begin to roll for one of his interview sessions with Frost, Nixon quietly asks "Did you do any fornicating [last night]?" Langella delivers the disquieting line that baffles the interviewer with complete understatement, exposing Nixon as calculating and acutely aware of the mechanics of manipulation. As much as he understands what makes other people tick, Langella's Nixon displays a surprising amount of introspection, demonstrated powerfully when he is asked by Frost to comment on the failures of his presidency. Once his character begins to ruminate on his political humiliation, Langella's face becomes etched with pain. His eyes dart nervously back and forth, signaling that Nixon can no longer hide the truth about his wrongdoing from the American people or, more importantly, himself. Thanks to Langella, Nixon's charms and flaws have never been made more sympathetic, nor the icon of corruption more real.

Compared to the much-vaunted Langella, Sheen is in a thankless role as the suave Frost. The British actor holds his own brilliantly. His Frost initially appears to be a consummate entertainer, approaching every subject - from Nixon to the Bee Gees -with equal zest and passion. Sheen, though, brings a surprising vulnerability to a role that could have been played as a flamboyant swinger. In one scene, Frost quietly admits that he struggles with a "sickening thought" that he will never again attain professional success in America. Sheen's perfect smile belies a deep-seated fear as his character struggles with a nagging question: Is there nothing more to David Frost than the playboy facade that has made him so loved?

Complementing the actors who so completely inhabit their roles, filmmaker Howard constructs an organic world while patently refusing to include moments that scream the '70s. In taking pains to evoke the period with finesse, Howard ensures that the film's underlying insights on American power gone awry resonate deeply in a post-Bush era. The filmmaker never resorts to unnecessary visual flourishes, capturing the intellectual battle between Frost and Nixon with restraint. His camera moves slowly around the interview set, which is filled with lighting and video equipment, slyly hinting at the artifice inherent in all historical record.

One narrative device that detracts slightly from the immersive quality of the film is the continual use of a Greek chorus of sorts that comments on the action. Occasionally, the film cuts to one-on-one interviews with auxiliary characters that reminisce about the events. These documentary-style vignettes are often redundant. They slow, though never halt, the gripping momentum of the film.

Even with its few directorial miscues, "Frost/Nixon" remains a refreshing change of pace in an awards season dominated by movies with excessive visual pizazz and little else. Both the director and the terrific stars enliven history by focusing on moving moments of quiet rather than scenes of over-the-top bluster. The film often transcends its setting, becoming a potent, universal meditation on how the intersection between the mass media and political figures influences history. Less is certainly more in Ron Howard's latest, one of the year's best films that unquestionably deserves its place in the Oscar race.