This is a really good speech from a really good film, and it’s really well acted too.
The phone rings.
FROST stares at it for a while. Cannot face it. Finally he goes to answer it. When he speaks, it’s with a quiet, defeated voice.
FROST
I’ll have a cheeseburger.
But the slurring voice at the other end does not belong to CAROLINE.
VOICE (ON PHONE)
Mmm. Sounds good. I used to love cheeseburgers. But Doctor Lundgren made me give them up. Switched me to cottage cheese and pineapple instead. He calls them my Hawaiian burgers. But they don’t taste like burgers at all. They taste like Styrofoam.
FROST freezes. Immediately recognises NIXON, speaking from San Clemente.
INT. NIXON’S STUDY – SAN CLEMENT – NIGHT
NIXON is in his study high up in San Clemente. (We intercut between the two locations as necessary)
NIXON
I…ah….hope I’m not disturbing.
FROST
No.
NIXON
It’s Friday night. You..ah..probably have someone there.. whom you’re entertaining.
FROST
No.
NIXON
Then what are you doing?
NIXON is flicking through a file on his desk. We notice it is full of pictures of FROST.
NIXON
A handsome young fellow. An eligible young, bachelor, alone on a Friday night?
FROST
If you must know..I’m preparing for our final session.
NIXON
Ah, the all-important final session.
FROST
Yes.
NIXON
‘Watergate.’
NIXON continues to scan the file. We see newspaper headlines about FROST’s early career.
NIXON
It’s a small consolation to me that for the next couple of days, that word will be as much of a millstone around your neck as it has been around mine. Because I guess, the way you handle Watergate will determine whether these interviews are a success or failure. Should I be nervous?
FROST
Well, I’m going to give it my best shot.
NIXON
Quite right. No holds barred. No holds barred. You know, it’s strange. We’ve sat in chairs opposite one another, talking for hours, it seems days on end, and yet I’ve hardly gotten to know you. One of my people…ah…as part of the preparation of this interview…did a profile of you and I’m sorry to say… I only got round to reading it tonight. There’s some interesting stuff in there.
NIXON’s eyes take in childhood photos of FROST, humble beginnings…
NIXON
The Methodist background, modest circumstances. Then off to a grand university. Full of richer, posher types. What was it? Oxford?
FROST
Cambridge.
NIXON
Did the snobs there look down on you, too?
FROST
I…I…
NIXON
Of course they did. That’s our tragedy, isn’t it, Mr Frost? No matter how high we get, they still look down at us…
FROST
I…really…don’t know what you’re talking about…
NIXON
Yes, you do. C’mon. You know exactly. No matter how many awards – or how many column inches are written about you – or how high the elected office is for me – it still isn’t enough, am I right? We still feel like the little man? The loser they told us we were? A hundred times. The smart-asses at college. The high-ups. The well-born. The people whose respect we really wanted. Really craved. And isn’t that why we work so hard now? Why we fight for every inch? Scrambling our way up, in undignified fashion, whatever hillock or mountain it is, why we never tire, why we find energy or motivation when any sensible person would lie down, or relax.
In the file: articles about FROST’s failure in America. The network show being cancelled.
NIXON
If we’re honest for a minute. If we reflect privately just for a moment…if we allow ourselves…a glimpse into that shadowy place we call our soul, isn’t that why we’re here now…? The two of us? Looking for a way back? Into the sun? Into the limelight? Back onto the winner’s podium? Because we could feel it slipping away? We were headed, both of us, for the dirt. The place the snobs always told us we’d end up. Face in the dust. Humiliated all the more for having tried so pitifully hard. Well, to hell with that. We’re not going to let that happen. Either of us. We’re going to show those bums, and make them choke on our continued success. Our continued headlines. Our continued awards, power and glory. We’re going to make those motherfuckers choke. Am I right?
FROST
You are. Except only one of us can win.
NIXON
And I shall be your fiercest adversary. I shall come at you with everything I’ve got. Because the limelight can only shine on one of us. And for the other, it’ll be the ‘wilderness’. With nothing and no one for company, but those voices ringing in our heads.
A pause. NIXON sways slightly.
NIXON
You can probably tell…I’ve had a drink. Not too many. Just one or two. But believe me, when the time comes, I’ll be focused and ready for battle.
FROST
I would expect nothing less.
NIXON
Well, good night, Mr. Frost.
FROST
Good night, Mr. President.
NIXON hangs up, and disappears into the darkness.
brilliant bits of writing 
Great