"The Best Woman"
If I’m any example, thousands of theatregoers—especially progressive-leaning political junkies—must have begun salivating at the news that a play called Hillary and Clinton was coming to
Broadway. (It had premiered in Chicago in 2016.)
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| Laurie Metcalf. Photo: Julieta Cervantes. |
When it was announced that they’d be played by two of our
foremost Broadway stars, Laurie Metcalf and John Lithgow, the box-office polling must have leaped exponentially.
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| John Lithgow, Laurie Metcalf. Photo: Julieta Cervantes. |
Of course, all would be contingent on what aspect of the
Clintons’ lives rising playwright Lucas Hnath (A Doll’s House, Part 2, Red Speedo, The Christians). would examine, and how well he’d carry it off. With
so much to choose from, he’s zeroed in on the early stages of Hillary’s 2008 primary
campaign opposite Barack Obama, just after she’s come in third in Iowa, and
imagined what might have been going on between the Clintons at this delicate moment.
(The play was written in 2008, soon after the events depicted.) Despite the
presumed instability of their marriage, the Clintons' mutual interests couldn’t have
been more tightly conjoined.
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| Zak Orth, Laurie Metcalf, John Lithgow. Photo: Julieta Cervantes. |
It’s certainly a prime time in the ongoing Clinton saga but events
since then have so surpassed these on the historical and emotional scale that a
look back at 2008 seems rather quaint. Still, it definitely contains volatile dramatic
ingredients, such as Hillary’s strategy arguments with Mark (Zak Orth), her
campaign manager (inspired by Mark
Penn?); her fluctuating interest and disinterest in Bill’s advice, of which
Mark wants no part; and her bargaining with Barack (Peter Francis James), as he’s
called, regarding who might be the other’s running mate.
Nonetheless, Hillary
and Clinton sometimes seems more like a domestic comedy in the Adam’s Rib or State of the Union vein than a surgical examination of historical machinations.
You won’t learn anything new but you’ll appreciate viewing it as it happens.
Not that Hillary and
Clinton isn’t both fun and interesting, even if Hnath takes pains to insure
we don’t accept what we’re seeing as authentic fly-on-the-wall testimony to
what transpired. He has Hillary enter very casually, mic in hand, and explain directly
to us, after flipping a coin several times, that an infinity of earths exist, some
with people just like us, and including events similar, if not exactly
the same, as those experienced on our earth.
On such an earth, for example,
Hillary might have won in 2008. Hnath’s play, then, is about a Hillary and
Clinton in a parallel universe, regardless of nearly everything talked about
sounding awfully close to what we know, both fact and rumor.
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| Laurie Metcalf, Zak Orth. Photo: Julieta Cervantes. |
Metcalf’s brunette Hillary, decidedly unglamorous, makes no
attempt to physically resemble the one we know, nor does Lithgow, tall and
white-haired as he may be, use any familiar Bill mannerisms; no lip biting or
Arkansas drawl, I’m afraid. As costumed by Rita Ryack, she flops around in comfy clothes, switching from slippers and sweatpants to a red, cable-knit turtleneck, not
quite long enough to hide her white panties, before finally donning tan slacks. He’s
similarly casual, wearing an old windbreaker over a faded polo shirt, along
with running shorts, white socks, and deck shoes.
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| Laurie Metcalf, John Lithgow. Photo: Julieta Cervantes. |
Which isn’t to say that we don’t automatically impose the
real Hillary and Bill over those of the actors, a quite easy process. On the
other hand, James’s Barack is a close-enough ringer for 44, albeit a bit older
and more full-bodied. Mark, for his part, is an ordinary, bearded, bespectacled schlub, his belly too
big to keep his shirt in his pants.
As if to underline the situation’s universality, Chloe
Lamford’s New Hampshire hotel room set, outlined in thin, neon stripes that
occasionally come on (lighting by Hugh Vanstock), is a sleek, empty box, its
side walls and ceiling white, the upstage wall black, and the sole furnishings
a white, leather, rolling desk chair and a small refrigerator. There are two
doors, one to the hallway, the other to the inner rooms. Sitting or lying on the floor
isn’t out of the question, even for a presidential campaigner.
Hnath’s snappy, frequently profane, dialogue reveals both
the affection and tension between the Clintons (including the strong possibility of divorce). We witness Bill’s loneliness and need to stick his two cents in despite Mark’s wish to get
him and his advice the hell away; the campaign’s need for money; Bill’s ability
to get it (and the consequent problems it causes); the campaign’s current
status; Bill’s toxic past yet persistent popularity; and discussions about how to improve Hillary’s
personal appeal.
Much will strike a nostalgic bell for those who recall some
of the details, like how well it was received when a tear seemed to form in her eye while
delivering a speech to a women’s luncheon. Nonetheless, she has a hard time
believing that her policies rather than her personality will turn the tide. She even questions whether that tear ever did well up.
Some stuff stings, as when the question of what people will
remember of the Clintons when they’re dead reminds Bill of how his achievements
have been overshadowed by his peccadilloes. And the scene when the Clintons
unite to confront Barack is riveting.
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| Peter Francis James, Laurie Metcalf. Photo: Julieta Cervantes. |
Hillary is both vulnerable and defiant, and makes a big
point of asking Bill—who wants to be her attack dog—to stay out of the picture
so she’s not considered a woman who needed her husband’s help to win her job. The
byplay inspired by their rivalry and their confrontations with Mark, whom Bill
wants fired, is always agile, and raises the question of what a woman must do
to gain ascendancy in the political arena. A big laugh comes when Bill confronts
Mark by stepping over the body of Hillary, sprawled out on the floor.
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| Zak Orth, Laurie Metcalf, John Lithgow. |
Metcalf and Lithgow give Hillary and Bill just the right
amount of vivacity and bite you’d hope for, James is a solid stand-in for
Barack, and Orth is perfectly harried as the campaign manager.
Joe Mantello’s lively direction keeps things hopping throughout
the intermissionless 90 minutes of what is principally amusing because the two
characters at the heart of its domestic tit for tats are who they are and also because we’re
being given the chance to believe that something like what we’re hearing may
actually have happened in our own alternate universe. Moreover, there’s enough topicality to remind us of what the current crop of female candidates may be experiencing. Similarly pertinent is the issue of electability, including whether it's better for a candidate to be well
known or little known.
If Hillary and Clinton’s mix of domestic squabbling and
political intrigue during a long-past primary can glue your eyeballs to the stage,
I can only imagine what’s in store when someone—Hnath or otherwise—gives us,
what, Hillary and Trump? But only in this
universe, please God, after Trump has been dumped.
John
Golden Theatre
262
W. 45th St., NYC
Open
run
OTHER
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