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September 27, 2005
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n ABC's Commander in Chief (Tuesdays 9 p.m., premiering 9/27), President MacKenzie Allen (Geena Davis) follows a short line of women who have occupied the big-screen and small-screen Oval Office. There's 1964's Kisses for My President — in which women get out the vote to elect Leslie McCloud — but that film turns mainly on the hijinks-at-the-garden-party travails of the first First Man (Fred MacMurray, natch). There was the 1985 TV series Hail to the Chief, but Patty Duke played President Julia Mansfield mostly for laughs. Counterstrike (2003) is unwatchable; Gun! (2001) is two minutes long, and French. Porn geeks might suggest Lick-It Man (2004), in which the first female president achieves global peace, but only after a visit from the titular "world's most sensitive superhero." And then there's The Beach Party at the Threshold of Hell (2005), but it's set in 2060, and Madam's presidency immediately precedes the apocalypse.
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Refreshingly, Mackenzie Allen's presidency is neither a screwball escapade nor a doomsday scenario. Relax, red states, President Allen wasn't actually elected or anything. In fact, she's not even — ooh, scary! — ambitious. A member of the Independent Party who's retired from a few years in Congress, she's living a nice, quiet life as a university chancellor when the president-to-be (Will Lyman) comes calling. A moderate yet calculating conservative, he asks her to be his running mate because he needs the female vote.
Once elected, however, he's stricken with a sudden aneurysm; VP Allen is summoned and promptly pressured to resign. The Man Plan, you see, is to pass the conservative torch to the paleolithic Speaker of the House, Nathan Templeton (Donald Sutherland, having a ball), who makes Trent Lott look like Amy Carter. As it turns out, it's Templeton who unwittingly drives Allen to crumple her resignation speech, but I won't spoil the moment; I had too much fun going "Woo-hoo!" when it happened. She's swiftly sworn in in her living room (feminist sap that I am, I had tears in my eyes at this point) and addressed forthwith as "Madam President" (a choking sob escapes). And President Allen's first speech to Congress? Forget about it. I'm bawling.
But I'll get back to that, because wish fulfillment isn't the only good thing about this show (or the pilot, anyway, which was all ABC made available in advance). Commander in Chief is not just the lady version of a certain other show about the White House, though it is temping to call it Breast Wing. This is older-fashioned television: no walk-down-the-hall camera, no light-speed conversation; you could fly Air Force One between the lines of dialogue. Dimples notwithstanding, Geena Davis looks and acts presidential. Mercifully, the show does not cut from her addressing the G8 summit to her scarfing Mallomars in the bathroom and whimpering, "How am I going to do this?"
Further, it bears mentioning that Allen — and the show — are also not an allegory for a second Clinton presidency. They're just not. That issue is tackled with hilarious dispatch by President Allen's husband's new chief of staff, who is left over from the previous administration. Like a ‘droid who hasn't been reprogrammed, she appears constitutionally unable to refer to Mr. Allen as anything but First Lady. "Mrs. Clinton had her office in the West Wing," she tells her new boss, all frozen smiles. "That didn't go over very well." I also like President Allen's teenage daughter, a scowling Ann Coulter in the making. "You get to be John-John," she tells her twin brother, "and I'll be Patti Davis."
All in all, the pilot is pretty pilot-y: mostly exposition. For many reasons, I hope the show can sustain itself. Which brings me back to my meltdown. I was not moved to tears just by the sight of a female president, even a female president who says things like, "And if you think I am going to stand by and watch a young woman be executed — tortured — for having sex, you are seriously mistaken." Rather, I was moved to tears by the sight of a president — any president — speaking with such conviction, eloquence, sincerity and humility. Yeah, I know, we already have Josiah Bartlett. But it's not like we had "enough" gay characters, say, when Ellen came out. And I can't help but believe that Will, Grace, the Fab Five, et. al., have done their teeny, tiny, cartoony part to work queers into the landscape, onscreen and off. Surely it couldn't hurt to keep reminding the TV nation what true leadership looks like, especially when it's wearing a skirt. n°
| ABOUT THE AUTHOR: | |
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Lynn Harris is author of the satirical novel Death By Chick Lit and its prequel, Miss Media, as well as co-creator of the award-winning website BreakupGirl.net. A regular contributor to Glamour, Salon, The New York Times, Babble and many others, she also writes the "Rabbi's Wife" column for Nextbook.org. Visit her at LynnHarris.net. |
Commentarium (2 Comments)
Saw the show tonight, and loved it! Of course, I've always had the hots for Geena.
Now you say something