Theater Review: The 47th
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The 47th
directed by Mike Bartlett
Iambic verse and Donald Trump are an unlikely pairing. But here they are, brought together by Mike Bartlett in his gripping satirical imagining of the 2024 US presidential election. Writing a play about contemporary American politics would seem to be a fool’s errand given rampant polarisation – as Joe Biden (Simon Williams) puts it here, ‘party lines have become party walls’ – but Bartlett, for the most part, creates a terrifyingly plausible future that should make both liberals and conservatives uneasy. Quite what American audiences will make of it when it comes Stateside remains to be seen, but the Londoners at the Old Vic enjoyed this performance.
Like Bartlett’s 2014 production, King Charles III, this is a play about power and the battle to be head of state. It opens amidst the presidential primary campaigns, with Kamala Harris (Tamara Tunie) urging Biden to run for re-election (okay, so it’s not always plausible) and Ted Cruz (James Garnon) leading the Republican contest. This state of affairs doesn’t last for long, and by the interval the stage is set for a Harris versus Trump contest.
While it’s the raw power struggle that dominates this play, it is also infused with humour. Whether the jokes will resonate with audiences in the US remains to be seen but here, where we are only indirectly affected by the chaos of American politics, there is a perverse comedy to Trump and his interactions. There’s a running joke about orange juice – ‘I won’t forget the orange juice, that’s rude, just rude’ says Trump – and a hilarious conversation referencing Nelson Mandela. Miriam Buether’s two-tiered set generates opportunities for laughter from the very beginning, when Trump emerges in his golf buggy, but also tries to do too much, relying on gimmicks (like the rotation of the lower tier) that serve no purpose. The lighting, coordinated by Neil Austin, often moves us suddenly from darkness into bizarre comedic situations, and also helps create the contrasting moods of joy (for some) and foreboding (for others) now present at your average presidential debate or Trump rally.
This sense of ominous events to come is palpable in a scene where Biden sleepwalks around the White House, reminding us of Lady Macbeth’s inner turmoil – far from the only Shakespearean touch to this play. Most obviously, much of it is written in iambic verse. This is a bold move, given Trump’s limited language skills, but is generally used to great effect. Only occasionally does Bartlett’s version of the 45th president use words that one suspects the real Trump has never come across. It is in the soliloquies which regularly feature between scenes, however, that the verse really thrives. Harris’ are especially powerful, as she ponders how to respond to an ever more authoritarian challenger – should she sink to his level and win at all costs, or seek to achieve victory by retaining the moral high ground? Bartlett’s ability to vary the verse across a range of tones, from Trump’s unpretentious remarks to Harris’ more thoughtful deliberations, makes it sing.
It is thanks to the leading actor and actress that all of this works. Bertie Carvel has nailed Trump’s mannerisms, from his gait as he walks across the stage, to the hand gestures during his speeches. It would be unsurprising if he finds himself with more wrinkles on his face after this show’s run ends, such are the contortions we witness his lips making throughout. At times, it is hard to distinguish this Trump from the real thing – a credit to Carvel and to Richard Mawbey’s wig and make-up, though a bit more fake tan wouldn’t go amiss. Tunie is equally impressive as Harris, quite an achievement for a personality whose manner is less distinctive than Trump’s. Unfortunately, the writing of her character is often overly simplistic in comparison with her antagonist, who is presented as somebody using his unacknowledged intelligence for nefarious purposes.
The performances in the less prominent roles are a mixed bag. Among the Trump family, Melania is completely absent, while Oscar Lloyd as Donald Jr is slightly wooden. Lydia Wilson as Ivanka is better, but outshone by Freddie Meredith, who puts in a phenomenally awkward performance as Eric. The struggle of these three siblings to succeed to their father’s throne has its own Shakespearean echoes. Of the other supporting characters, Williams is unconvincing as a frail and easily intimated Biden, while Garnon is only passable as Ted Cruz. Ami Tredrea, making her professional stage debut, is superb as Rosie, Ivanka’s driver and an ardent Trump defender.
The play’s depiction of Trump’s supporters, led by Rosie, is notable for beginning sympathetically but soon becoming more hostile. We witness the snobbishness of Rosie’s brother, a liberal journalist, who says that Trump supporters ‘feel left behind’ but struggles to understand why they may be so dissatisfied with their lives. After that, however, Trump’s supporters are led in exuberant dances by one of the Capitol rioters and become increasingly militaristic. This portrayal of Trump supporters as part of a deranged cult is over-the-top, and a bad misstep: the events of January 6, 2021, mean that the threat from some Trump voters is already evident, and does not need to be exaggerated for dramatic effect as it is here. The plot would feel more realistic, and be more effective, without these odd gyrations from the ‘Make America Great Again’ crowd.
That said, this is still a good production, worth seeing for Carvel and Tunie’s performances alone. It is also a valuable reminder of democracy’s fragility, and its ruminations on how to respond to a leader like Trump should be of interest to all Democrats (or should that be democrats?). Seen in London, this won’t cause any arguments among an overwhelmingly anti-Trump audience. But given the febrile atmosphere of politics on the other side of the Atlantic, it remains to be seen whether Americans are ready for this reminder of the previous Trump presidency, and the prospect of another to come.
The 47th is playing at The Old Vic in London until 28 May.