Am I the only one to think that everything in this title should be in the same size font as "MOTHER"? |
Within this election
year (is it really a coincidence?) “smart” television shows have made a
startling yet pleasing comeback, and one of those top shows is USA Network’s Political Animals. The series, now on its fifth episode, focuses on the
struggles of a political family a cross between the Kennedeys and the Clintons,
that lives in and out of an alternate universe White House in which Adrian
Pasdar looks oddly presidential and it’s evidently plausible that Americans
voted for an Italian to lead the greatest nation on earth. Apart from starring
Sigourney Weaver, a feminist favorite ever since her iconoclastic roles in just
about every science fiction movie since 1979’s Alien, the aggregate acting talent of the remaining cast smooths
out a show that is still relatively rough around the edges. The heady ensemble
of characters don’t have to be talking politics to hold the viewer’s attention
or make an impact, as the scene-stealing Ellen Burstyn proves as the alcoholic
mother of Elaine Barrish.
"They never let me speak on record," Burstyn's Margaret proclaims, a martini in her hand. "I'm always too drunk, or too honest, or God forbid, both." |
And it’s a good
thing that the characters don’t talk politics, because that’s an evidently huge
gap in the knowledge of the writers of the show. Elaine’s Secretary of State title
actually seems to denote a dedication less to foreign affairs in and of
themselves but rather “extreme humanitarianism” work that forces her to save
others – one week, forced to go outside the payroll of the White House to save
three kidnapped journalists, the next, convincing the president to provide aid
to a woefully downed Chinese sub filled with a helpless crew (in both
scenarios, Ellen is cast as the only
person to understand the importance of a human life, a singularity underscored
by continuous references and flashbacks to her son TJ’s attempt at suicide). Had
true political knowledge been bestowed on all Political Animals characters,
then the show would have more to run on than what quickly becomes the fumes of
antifeminism – for Ellen, as an unintentional figurehead for working women the
world over, does not debate and take advantage of the machinations of the
political system. Instead, she quickly goes outside the box of the government
she could use to her advantage in order to “mother” away at foreign affairs
difficulties, ardently proclaiming what is right and wrong in whatever
situation happens to have reached her attention rather than lobbying,
consulting her colleagues, or ever letting the viewer know just how much
government power is at her disposal.
Thus, the Political
Animals title seems like a teasing misnomer as politics quickly takes a backseat
to the dramas of Elaine Barrish’s life. Again, the writers have made the
decision that it’s ultimately most important to Elaine’s story that we delve
into her personal life as well, to understand what motivates and hinders such a
powerful woman and to, perhaps, further remind the viewer that Elaine is indeed
a woman who cannot step outside the bounds of traditional feminine roles. Elaine
as a Politician is portrayed as inseparable from her role as Elaine the Mother,
Elaine the Divorcee, and Elaine the Daughter, and the show becomes such a
complex puzzle of those sometimes purposefully contradictory roles, that the
most we ever learn of politics is that all politicians ever talk about is their
former terms or their plans to run again. Even Elaine’s plans to run again for
president have less to do with broad political decisions and more to do, again,
with her “extreme humanitarianism” and her attempts to fulfill the role of
moral center.
Why do I always have to be the one with a heart and feelings to guide my hand? It's because I'm a typecast matriarch, isn't it? |
As the show
develops, it’s likely that the requisite family dramas will become ever more
intense, regrettably obscuring the powerful role that Weaver’s Barrish could
take on. Practically speaking, we’re a nation obsessed with the American elite
that the Barrish family is based on, so of course we find the “insider” drama
of Political Animals irresistible. As long as we’re getting our gossipy fill of
the meat of a political family dish, with skilled actors accomplishing the
seasoning, perhaps we’ll be able to ignore the fact that Political Animals contains some disastrous substitutions for a few key ingredients.
Stay tuned, my next Political Animals post will probably focus on the show's highlighted roles of sex, sexuality, and gender.
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