All the World’s a Stage…
Or at least a House of Cards
By Deborah Salomon
Our PineStraw banner reads “Art and Soul of the Sandhills.” However, social media, SNL, magazine covers, cartoons and late-night comedians have made politics an art form demanding the same attention as a Broadway play, a concert or TV mini-series. Surely, it’s no coincidence that Veep and Madame Secretary take top honors, following the venerable West Wing and House of Cards. Here, art imitates life inside the Beltway, where satire practically writes itself. Politicians have become, if not rock stars, at least matinee idols. Most agree this obsession began with the Kennedys — Jackie’s style, John’s hair/smile/philandering. Nobody gave a fig what Eleanor Roosevelt and Mamie Eisenhower wore or that their husbands had “close” female assistants. Americans over 70 remember Kennedy-impersonator Vaughn Meader, whose The First Family album sold faster than The Beatles — until it wasn’t funny anymore.
The style part lived on in Nancy Reagan and Michelle Obama. Soirees featuring Yo-Yo Ma and Itzhak Perlman have long graced the White House calendar, usually when foreign dignitaries visit. Otherwise the best of folk, bluegrass, even pop. Rumor is the only soloist during this administration will be Wynton Marsalis, the jazz, uh, Trumpeter.
Let’s play around with other artsy connections.
Whodunits: Jason Bourne, 007, Inspector Clouseau and those cute NCIS guys would understand secret documents delivered, after hours, to the White House. Amnesiac witnesses, clandestine tapings, secret back channels funneled through foreign embassies. Undisclosed meetings between trusted advisers and dubious operatives.
Wouldn’t Shakespeare have a blast?
The villains: A shifty-eyed former general who, for a fee, dined with (Ras)Putin. A presidential spokeswoman with straggly blonde locks, bony fingers and over-glossed lips mouthing “alternate facts” and “fake news.” Did we ever find out who leaked that Access Hollywood tape?
The costumes: Look, I don’t mind if the First Lady owns a $50,000 Dolce & Gabbana jacket. But does she have to wear it at a photo-op seen by Americans who earn half that — in a year? Then, of course, the emperor’s new clothes consisting of many voluminous dark blue suits (Brioni, $10K), always-white shirts and b-o-o-ring ties. However, sartorial Oscars go to the supporting cast of senators for custom-tailored jackets, pressed trousers, well-fitting shirts, interesting ties and good haircuts.
Make-up/hair: Must be Creamsicle-hued Pan Stik topped by L’Oreal’s Buttercup Cotton Candy. Ombre hair shading suits Mrs. T Number Three. I can’t picture that on Pat Nixon.
The music: True, many politicos appear to be living in la-la-land minus the film’s exquisite score. No. 45 won’t mess with Tchaikovsky’s “1812 Overture” accompanying Independence Day fireworks, although the composition celebrates a Russian military victory. Damn, that Russia thing again. Look for Twisted Sister’s “We’re Not Gonna Take It” campaign anthem to remain atop the presidential playlist. Otherwise, per the inaugural ball, expect “My Way” all the way.
Script: Credit a gaggle of writers holding Ph.D.’s in teleprompter lit from a now-defunct eponymous online university.
Set decoration: Each First Family receives 100,000 taxpayer dollars to redecorate the living quarters. Talk about chump change. That amount doesn’t go far toward solid gold faucets, silk sheets, alpaca blankets and carpets arriving via AladdinAir.
On location: Our commander-in-chief’s favorite movie is Citizen Kane, where the unhinged zillionaire womanizer played by Orson Welles repairs to Xanadu, his Florida castle. Is Mar-a-Lago just a coincidence? Factor in a Fifth Avenue triplex, a vineyard estate in Virginia, a manse in Bedford, New York, digs on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills, a golfing pied-à-terre in New Jersey and, of course, that rustic little cabin called Camp David. Heavens to Betsy! POTUS owns more bathrooms than Howard Johnson had ice cream flavors.
Family ties: Children frequently follow their entertainment-industry parents: Kirk and Michael Douglas, Debbie Reynolds and Carrie Fisher, Tom and Colin Hanks, Judy Garland and Liza Minnelli. No wonder DJ installed Ivanka just down the corridor. For the Paris Climate Accord he needs the expertise gained during Fashion Week in the French capital. Her forecast: rainy April. Bring umbrellas. Preferably Hermès.
Last, but not least —
Cast of characters: Jeff Sessions by Tennessee Williams. Mike Pence by Sinclair Lewis. Steve Bannon by Truman Capote. FLOTUS by Jacqueline Susann. James “Cat in the Hat” Comey by Dr. Seuss. Trumpty Dumpty by Lewis Carroll. Kellyanne Conway by Edgar Allen Poe, Stephen King or whoever wrote Zombieland.
I knew that English major would pay off, eventually.
But, should this administration ever be made into a movie, who would play the president now that Philip Seymour Hoffman is gone? John Goodman, perhaps? I can see Cindy Crawford pulling off First Lady with Gwen Stefani vamping Ivanka. Jared eludes me, except perhaps a grown-up Haley Joel Osmet from, fittingly, Artificial Intelligence: A.I. or, at best, a Stepford husband.
Finally, the art part: Gilbert Stuart did George Washington’s official portrait. John Singer Sargent painted Theodore Roosevelt. Who, then, will immortalize the current Oval Office occupant?
Doesn’t really matter when the canvas is black velvet. PS
Deborah Salomon is a staff writer for PineStraw and The Pilot. She may be reached at debsalomon@nc.rr.com.
