The presidential election is still nearly six months away, but I’m already completely overwhelmed by the nonstop political punditry. Whether it’s due to the never-ending news cycle or the constant name-calling and divisiveness, political fatigue is real. Fortunately, Nashville Repertory Theatre has just the remedy — its hilarious season closer POTUS: Or, Behind Every Great Dumbass Are Seven Women Trying to Keep Him Alive.
Penned by Selina Fillinger, this “fiercely feminist farce” opened on Broadway in 2022, and takes us behind the scenes on an especially difficult day at the White House. It all starts when the president drops the C-word in a room full of foreign diplomats and members of the press. And there’s that nasty anal abscess he’s been meaning to have drained. And a pregnant mistress, who discreetly announces that she’s “here about the position.” (Wink, wink.)
It’s a crazy setup, to be sure. But as Lauren Shouse states in her director’s note, POTUS is “political, but not partisan.” Indeed, much of the brilliance behind Fillinger’s script is that we never actually meet the fictional idiot-in-chief. He may be the reason things are teetering on the brink of disaster, but this sharp comedy is much more concerned about the women in his orbit — and the absolute bullshit they’re forced to endure in the name of career, family and, you know, world peace.
Shouse makes a welcome return to Nashville Rep, directing what feels like an A-list ensemble of farcical Flying Wallendas and walking the story’s outrageous tightrope with a delightful sense of daring. Balancing the smart with the silly, Shouse keeps the action moving forward with great precision and clarity. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that she has pulled together a stellar cast.
Lauren Berst is sensational as Harriet, the long-suffering, super-stressed chief of staff who everyone agrees is the real brains behind the Oval Office — despite the fact that she just had T-shirts printed up for the Female Models of Leadership Council, unwittingly using the unfortunate acronym FML. Tamara Todres provides an excellent counterbalance as Jean, the no-nonsense press secretary and resident spin doctor with a penchant for turtlenecks. (“They’re universally flattering!”) Watching these two pros go toe to toe is always a treat, but they’re particularly strong here.
Tamiko Robinson Steele is picture-perfect as Margaret, the astute, über-accomplished first lady, who has taken to wearing Crocs in order to appear more relatable and “earthy.” Kris Sidberry is also terrific as Chris, a seasoned journalist and single mom, doggedly chasing down stories while simultaneously double-pumping breast milk for her infant twins.
As always, Rachel Agee is a riot as the president’s wayward sister Bernadette, a caustic, drug-dealing loose cannon who’s hoping for a pardon. (Sizing up Jean’s sensible turtleneck, she declares it “very Jackie O. meets Carl Sagan.”) And newcomer Quincey Lou Huerter is priceless as Dusty, POTUS’ goofy girlfriend, who’s into blue slushies and conflict management, but is not above giving the occasional blowjob in service to her country.
But it’s Darci Nalepa Elam (in another impressive Nashville Rep debut) who earns some of the evening’s biggest laughs as Stephanie, a hardworking admin struggling with self-esteem issues. Elam is positively fearless in her physicality, whether practicing her self-help power stance, racing about the stage in an inflatable innertube or delivering a scorching air-guitar solo while hopped up on hallucinogens.
It may sound like sheer chaos, but beyond all the absurdity, POTUS poses some serious questions about women who are seemingly complicit to the very system that holds them back. And though it’s all done with tongue planted firmly in cheek, Fillinger does remind us that women are at their best when they set aside their differences and work together.
Gary C. Hoff’s set provides an efficient and believable playground, with plenty of slamming doors and an ingenious center section that opens up like a dollhouse. Darren E. Levin’s lighting is quite effective, particularly in an extended montage in which the ladies throw down, executing Carrie Brewer’s fabulous fight choreography with relish. (Extra points for the production’s girl-power soundtrack — dubbed the “Bitch Beats” playlist — featuring tunes from the likes of Blondie, Pat Benatar and Bikini Kill.) And Melissa K. Durmon’s costumes help establish each character — whether it’s an elegant pantsuit for the first lady or Dusty’s more free-spirited sundress.
Fast-paced and searingly funny, this is one POTUS that is sure to win the popular vote.
