It doesn’t take too many swipes of the Facebook scroll bar to prove we live in a nation of political junkies—those who live for a daily dose of cable-friendly, Congressional talking heads or hyperbolic blog headlines. But Rick Cleveland’s Five Presidents, now at the Milwaukee Repertory Theatre in its world premiere production, offers a special sort of fix. It chronicles an imagined 90 minutes in 1994, as five living Presidents (current and former) hang out in between ceremonies at Richard Nixon’s funeral. It’s a Beltway-geek’s dream, whether it be documentary or fantasy, and Cleveland finds a way to leaven his history-lesson cum character study with enough zingers to keep the proceedings from turning into C-SPAN tedium. Mark Clements’ lively direction, well-schooled in comic timing, helps as well.
Cleveland is a former Chicago-based playwright, who made a name for himself as writer and producer of shows like The West Wing and House of Cards. Like these shows, Five Presidents displays a keen wit and a mind well steeped in Washington history and gamesmanship. And writing for live theater again, Cleveland also gets to display his gift for a well-timed joke of the setup-punchline variety, much of which is centered on familiar Presidential idiosyncrasies: Reagan’s jelly beans, Clinton’s dalliances, Carter’s battle with a killer bunny rabbit.
Some might fault the play for its sit-com sense of humor. But five men in a room, after all, is five men in a room (Reese Madigan is the Secret Service agent watching the door). Five Presidents doesn’t have the structure of a traditional well-made play, or even one that’s not so well made. There’s no loaded gun or buried family secret to drive the action forward. But it’s a lively evening, thanks to Cleveland’s wit, and the work of five experienced character actors (Mark Jacoby, Martin L’Herault, Steve Sheridan, Jeff Steitzer and Brit Whittle), each of whom display a talent for just the right level of mimicry to elicit chuckles of recognition when they make their entrance.
So instead of a traditional denouement, we get a stylized, fly-on-the-wall look at iconic figures in their very human form. Which doesn’t mean there isn’t substance here. Political tiffs are dragged up, discussed, and set aside with Presidential deference. Jimmy Carter confronts Ronald Reagan about the well-timed release of the Iran hostages. George H.W. Bush chides Carter for actively opposing Operation Desert Storm. And, prominently, Gerald Ford passes on the opportunity to deliver a eulogy at the funeral service for Nixon, whose portrait watches over the conversation.
Even more substantially, Cleveland poignantly suggests Reagan’s encroaching Alzheimer’s disease. And he has his Presidents grapple and reflect on the American lives lost on their “watch”: soldiers in Beirut, Grenada, Somalia and Kuwait.
The world’s most exclusive club, it seems, is not just power and glory, Five Presidents reminds us. It’s a job, occupied by mortals. Our portrait may not be as grand and our final salute may not involve 21 guns, but our motorcades are all headed to the same destination.
