Liberals be wary of rave reviews. The audience for political theater has changed.
The arrival of the 2024 Democratic National Convention means it’s time once again for that quadrennial debate: who put on the better show?
Conventions are, after all, huge theatrical productions built around the ancient narrative of citizens choosing a gladiator for the final combat. The skene of Greek amphitheaters is now a steroidal wall of LED screens and fancy platforms in a modern, bloodless arena.
Liberals might agree that only one political party flexes like they invented the term deus ex machina. The other party can’t quite shake off the tent revival dust. And maybe Democrats are, in a critical and aesthetic sense, right about the quality of their shows.
And maybe there should be a Tony Award for best political production. And maybe the prize will always go to Democrats.
But also, maybe, it doesn’t matter.
If the last eight years of political upheaval have taught us anything, it’s that the sound of pollsters and pundits patting themselves on the back is too often mistaken for real applause. Tastemakers may be great at awarding Best-in-Show. But they’ve little influence over who ends up with the Big Tiara.
There’s logic to why Democrats might align production values with political values. For one, liberals, in general, overpopulate the arts. They know what it takes to put on a great show: solid writing, impeccable choreography, rigid stage management. Democrats expect their administrations operate like a union shop, like trained professionals, everyone qualified for their respective jobs. More importantly, when the curtain rises, the cast and crew sticks to the same script. It’s a team effort. Stay consistent. No divas. Definitely no improvisations once the show is underway! Was the tan suit approved by wardrobe? No? Was Dark Brandon vetted by the sarcasm committee? Did someone misspeak at a press conference? Quick, issue apologies, disclaimers, trigger warnings!
But Donald Trump is and always has been an improv artist. His candidacy was an endless standup routine of stream-of-conscious rage, free of meddling producers. It’s clear as covfefe that no professional scriptwriter has ever come between Trump and his Tweets.
To a whole bunch of Americans, Trump is as authentic as a politician can get. Visceral, impulsive, with a natural immunity to contrition. He’s the real down-to-earth deal, while Democrats come across as showpeople putting on an esoteric ballet in an era of TikTok twerking.
Maybe it was so-called “cancel culture” that made liberals more risk averse and image conscious. Or maybe smart folks just have higher standards. But there was a time they owned authenticity.
Take the scene from “La Cage Aux Folles,” when female impersonator Albin is instructed by his partner to hide his true nature to win over his future in-laws. The drag-wearing Cagelles start the number by issuing the long-standing party line: “We are what we are, and what we are is an illusion.”
Illusion is the nature of any political campaign. But Albin is not into that. His personality is no illusion, but a source of power. He rebukes direction: “I am what I am. I am my own special creation. So come take a look, give me the hook, or the ovation.” Take him or leave him, you get what you get.
The audience, of course, goes wild for his decision to present authentically. To buck his own party’s dictates despite the repercussions.
In 2016, as Hillary Clinton twisted and contorted herself into a semi-relatable candidate, Trump pulled the ultimate Albin. His ill-tempered, unapologetic, authentic self grabbed the Republican party by the pussy. (“When you’re a star, they let you do it.”)
Everyone thought Trump would get the hook. Vegas gave him 5 to 1 odds of losing.
He got the Presidency instead.
In hindsight, a casual and unscientific review of the past few conventions might give us valuable perspective going into the next three months as both parties tally up their box office receipts.
Back in 2016, the RNC went first. The setting for Donald Trump’s debut as the Republican nominee was relatively straightforward. The reflective oval platform would have made a classy swimming pool. The backdrop was a two-tiered stack of LED screens projecting American flags and close-ups of the speakers. Large, imperial gold wings framed the proscenium as if a military emblem.
The entertainment – a glorified cover band – served up the greatest hits of suburban wedding receptions. Though participants danced in the aisles and gave speeches that were fashionably optimistic, the prevailing mood – at least as interpreted by the left-wing media – was one of uncertainty. No one present would be as confident of winning as the nominee himself.
Right on its heels was the DNC. From the onset it appeared Hillary Clinton’s pageant wagon was built by the best designers in the business. Her stage was enormous and wide, tapering to the speaker’s lectern downstage center. Democrats seem to like the idea of drawing a ritualistic circle around their speakers (as you’ll see repeated in 2024).
Sprawling LED displays, vertical and horizontal, had the charm of a Frank Lloyd Wright prairie house built in Times Square. The show ran like clockwork. A-list celebrities made cameos. Famous musicians played their hits.
The DNC was pure Broadway, with Clinton towering over the marquee. The political media, meanwhile, soon began writing Trump off as a circus ringmaster, forgetting in their smugness P.T. Barnum’s quip: “No one ever made a difference by being like everyone else.”
Faith in stagecraft proved fatal on Election Day. The campaign’s slick choreography, amazing production values, high-tech gimmicks and electric crowds lost to a megaphone and a spotlight.
If Democrats failed to read the room in 2016, it was the GOP that ran their showboat aground four years later with the 2020 conventions. In the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic, Democrats opted for virtual events, abiding by the safety protocols of the day. Doing so came with the risk of looking weak or cowardly. But Trump, exuding that trademark overconfidence, came off as reckless.
Biden and Trump accepted their respective 2020 nominations in front of nearly identical groves of American flags.
But Biden’s lonely appearance on a stage in Delaware – foregoing an audience – was a stark contrast to Trump playing to a throng of unmasked supporters in front of the White House. As hospitals across the country struggled to keep up with COVID patients, the Republican party’s decision to downplay the pandemic reminded America that Trump had gone full Nero.
This year, both parties returned to big conventions in arenas with IMAX-level screens pulsating red, white and blue. The budgets are similar, about $85 million each. Subtly, or perhaps not so subtly, the stages evoke seagoing vessels plying their seas of supporters.
The spiky prow of the RNC’s stage resembles a modern destroyer designed with stealth technology to keep its top-secret Project 2025 weapons systems invisible to Democracy’s radar.
The U.S.S. Democrat of the Seas, conversely, is a lumbering cruise ship of a set where party leaders take the helm centerstage and steer “a course for adventure with their minds on a new romance,” as the old tune goes. The cruise directors have programmed one musical revue after the next, interspersed with celebs tasked with making a string of Instagrammable appearances.
No doubt the analysts will carefully study the Nielsen Ratings and newsfeeds to judge which show audiences like and share more, “The Hunt for Red October” or “The Love Boat.” Polls and approval ratings will follow.
Democrats would be wise not to mistake the “Moulin Rouge”-like Spectacular Spectacular of Kamala Harris’ primetime acceptance speech for a wave of aesthetic revelation – at least not in the handful of swing states that matter.
Trump voters may be getting tired of their candidate’s splenetic monologuing. But just as they did in 2016, they can still vote against Democrats if that splashy extravaganza appears nothing more than highbrow theatrical signifying.
Besides, since the birth of reality TV, Americans have been weaned on season after season of mean-spirited, low-brow, back-biting, win-at-all costs entertainment. From “Survivor” to “The Bachelor” to “The Apprentice,” folks sitting at home in rural America have these inspiring examples of human nature to draw from as they decide which politico-tainment they’d like to see play out in the media for the next four years. Tony Soprano, Walter White, Don Draper: we do love an anti-hero.
Trump’s term of office was nothing if not engaging. Every day a new episode full of plot twists and conflicts. There were victory parades, executive firings, courtroom dramas, crazy characters, book burnings, battle scenes at the capitol, weeping liberals and let’s not forget the whole craze of Mad Maxing your pickup truck with Trump flags and profanities to show what true authenticity looks like.
As the gladiator once asked: Are you not entertained?
The people who want this America are still out there, silently waiting for November to come. ✒ C.B.