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Mr.
Sorkin Goes to Washington: The West Wing
Written
by James Koonce, September 23rd, 1999
Poor Josiah
Bartlett. He's the President of the United States (or POTUS for
short, as we hear him called repeatedly in the first several minutes
of NBC's new drama The West Wing), leader of the free world, and
yet he still can't seem to get it together enough to ride a bike.
His highly-publicized collision with a tree sets off the first
of many crises in the new ensemble series from Sports Night creator
Aaron Sorkin, and from there we're off and running. And running.
And running.
Martin Sheen
plays Bartlet, though we don't see him until well into the second
half of the premiere episode. First we get to know the rest of
the characters, namely crusty Chief of Staff Leo McGarry (John
Spencer), his deputy Josh Liman (Bradley Whitford), Press Secretary
C.J. Gregg (Allison Janney), Communications Director Toby Ziegler
(Richard Schiff), Deputy Communications Director Sam Seaborn (Rob
Lowe), and political consultant extraordinnaire Madeline Hampton
(Moira Kelly).
We come across
all of them fast and furious, a Sorkin hallmark, each getting
a memorable entrance and interweaving with the others in short
order. And because we're in the White House, center of the political
universe, naturally we're in the midst of a hotbed of activity
- Liman recently offended a powerful figure in the religious right
on a TV show, and suspects that his hours remaining employed are
numbered. Seaborn accidentally slept with a pot-smoking call girl,
and frets over future political ramifications. Ziegler and McGarry
try to strategize spin on the fate of a group of Cubans illegally
en route to America caught in a tropical storm, and Gregg just
wants to find time for a personal life. Hampton, the only interloper,
works for a rival senator with eyes on the presidency come election
time, but she used to date Liman so it's okay if she sticks around.
There's a
lot going on, to be sure, but Sorkin and fellow executive producer
John Wells (E.R.) are well-versed in hyperactive, multi-threaded
storylines. In fact, their co-production feels like a literal
hybrid of their respective work: take one part SportsNight, mix
in a liberal dollop of The American President, fold in ER, and
presto! The West Wing. But to his credit, Sorkin is a markedly
prolific auteur. Last season saw him write or co-write every episode
of SportsNight, and he plans on doing the same this season
with both that show and The West Wing.
It's a thankless
uphill task, one few are suited for. The notable exception of
course is David E. Kelley, executive producer and creator of multiple
Emmy-winners Ally McBeal and The Practice, which
he runs concurrently. Where Kelley succeeds, however, is in diversity,
and here Sorkin might take a few notes. Both of Kelley's focal
points are lawyer shows, but they're as different as night and
day - McBeal is loopy and whimsical, The Practice hard-edged
and gritty. What they share is a certain intricacy of story, a
frequently fresh take on loopholes in the legal profession. Sorkin's
two shows, by contrast, are virtually identical in character,
dialogue, tone, and visuals - SportsNight seems like nothing
less than a primer for The West Wing, a trial run in half-hour
form until the bugs were worked out.
Part of the
problem lies in the fact that Sorkin, despite his gifted ear for
dialogue, basically only writes three characters: there's the
Father Figure (played by Robert Guillaume on SportsNight, Spencer
and Schiff on The West Wing), the Guy (Lowe and Whitford, SportsNight
clones Peter Krause and Josh Charles), and the Strong Woman (Felicity
Huffman in New York, Moira Kelly in D.C.). Do the math - there
aren't that many combinations for these people, so it isn't long
before one starts to feel like a retread of another. Action is
synonymous with character, it's said, but these folks never seem
to get past than the action part - McGarry, noticing an error
in the New York Times crossword puzzle, calls the paper to report
it. And thereby we learn something about him, but… who cares?
So we know he's a smart guy who does crossword puzzles. Amusing
character traits do not characters make.
Sorkin also
considers himself a tackler of issues, so each of his series is
prone to lengthy blusters of substantial moral weight from one
character or another. And, befitting his exalted place at the
top of the governmental food chain, the man of the hour in this
case is Bartlet himself. By the time we finally meet the Prez
(hobbling in on his freshly sprained ankle), a cross-section of
the bubbling fracases has come to a dramatic head, and he alone
is able to keep heads cool and guide his troops in battle. It's
a great TV moment watching him easily dispatch plot point after
plot point, returning smiles to the faces of his assembled minions,
making it safe for them to relax knowing that he's in the House.
But at the same time it's preachy, didactic, and overwrought.
Patriotic music swells under Bartlet's jingoistic pearls of wisdom
as director Thomas Schlamme's peripatetic camera swoops in on
his strong, American face… we get it, guys. We get it.
Of course,
how else should the President be portrayed in episodic form? The
point is well-taken; America remains the global promised land,
and a certain reverence for its leaders isn't the worst thing.
But focusing on Bartlet's foibles and folly will give the show
considerably more breadth than focusing on his bicycling snafus.
We need to get to know him if we're to understand him. Presidents
make mistakes; we know it. We've seen it. And if Bill Clinton
is anyone to go by, they really only seem to make him more endearing.
So there needs to be a man down under Bartlet's electoral victories,
not just the guy with all the answers. A man of flesh and blood,
the same man who once came to Washington with nothing but a dream
and a head full of bright ideas.
If we can
just meet that guy, The West Wing will be a shoo-in.
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