AN EARLY FROST Sheen, left, demonstrates the TV presenter’s grilling technique.

Every American of a certain age can do a decent Richard Nixon impersonation: the V-for-victory fingers, the jackal-like grin, the chin-shake that accompanies a warbled “I am not a crook.” Even younger generations, who know of the 37th President’s tics simply through SNL reruns, have absorbed the mannerisms associated with Tricky Dick. He’s become part of the collective landscape of instantly recognizable figures. David Frost, however, is a different story; while most Brits can passably imitate the venerable TV personality, you’re apt to be met with a shrug if you mention his name to your average New Yorker.

In that sense, Michael Sheen would seem to have the easier job in Frost/Nixon. Ron Howard’s film adaptation of Peter Morgan’s play finds both Sheen and his Tony-winning costar, Frank Langella, reprising their roles as the English chat-show host and the disgraced former President, facing off during their historic 1977 interview sessions. While American viewers will critique Langella’s stunning performance as Nixon on how well it compares to the real thing, they can take the British actor’s portrayal of the interrogator can be taken at face value. “You’d think it’d be easier,” says Sheen, 39, sitting in his midtown hotel suite. “But actually, it’s the exact opposite. David Frost is like England’s version of Johnny Carson, so when we originally did the play in London [in 2006], the audience did the bulk of the work. Playing someone famous is like playing a jazz standard; everyone already knows the refrain, so the fun is riffing around the melody. But when we moved the play to New York, that shared cultural history didn’t register. It’s the harder role, but luckily, you don’t need that level of knowingness. Everyone understands the notion of abused power and accountability.”

Universal concepts or not, few would argue that Sheen isn’t up to the task of playing the “harder” role of the two. Honing his chops on West End stages throughout the 1990s, he was considered the second coming of Laurence Olivier long before his breakthrough turn as Tony Blair in 2006’s The Queen. Oddly, the man who would become one of Sheen’s key collaborators had never heard of the actor the first time someone mentioned his name. “When Stephen Frears and I were making The Deal,” Morgan (who adapted his own play for the screen) says over the phone, referring to the 2003 dramatization of the backroom politics that helped Blair become prime minister, “Leo Davis—Stephen’s casting director—said there’s only one man who could play Tony, so the entire production had to wait four months for him to finish something. I remember thinking, I could understanding shutting down for Tom Cruise…but who the hell is this Michael Sheen?” Morgan cracks up. “The answer was, ‘He’s the finest technical actor working in Britain today,’ which was absolutely true. By the time I started with Frost/Nixon, he was one of the main reasons for me to write it. I wanted to see what he would do with David Frost.”

What Sheen does with the role is exactly what Morgan had hoped for: a public figure who could seem effortlessly relaxed or incredibly ruthless. “How Frost used affability to charm and disarm people was brilliant,” the actor says. “He has this underbite that, when he smiles”—he juts his jaw out slightly and grins—“makes him look as if he has piranha teeth. Once I noticed that, it became this incredible hook to the character. Frost would use his smile to sustain the illusion that he was just having a nice little conversation. Then he would deploy it as he’s going for the jugular, and you can practically see Nixon’s heart stop.”

Like the play, Frost/Nixon doesn’t try to hide the interrogator’s intent on using this interview to, among other things, make his name in America. The fact that playing the highly ambitious Frost could help Sheen become a household name on these shores is fitting; surprisingly, the thought hadn’t occurred to the actor. “But now that you bring it up, I do see the connection,” he says, laughing. “You know, I tried desperately to get a film career in America for a number of years, but I just kept hitting my head against a brick wall. I had finally decided, That’s it: I’ll just put on plays in church basements with my mates. The next day, I got offered The Queen. The moment I actually let go of my ambitions.…” Sheen trails off and smiles a huge, Frost-size smile. This one, however, is earnest. He looks nothing like a piranha.

Frost/Nixon opens Fri 5.

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