Some initial thoughts about the West Wing

My sister and I have set ourselves the task of watching The West Wing, in its entirety, in preparation for the real life Santos administration (replete with Chief-of-Staff Lyman). And I must say, even though the series ran from 1999-2006 (which I was surprised by--I thought it had started in the mid-1990s, given an early subplot involving swapped pagers), it has a very odd, very dated vibe to it. I think a part of it might be that, after the epic 2008 general election--and the emergence of an ESPN-watching, Jay-Z referencing, inspiring-speech-giving, campaign-finance-revolutionizing, unabashedly intellectual post-Boomer black President--the idea of a platonic Clinton--which my sister and I agreed is pretty much what Bartlet is supposed to be--just isn't that gripping. While in 2000 the idea of a frumpy sarcastic old white guy suddenly stopping in the middle of a chili cook-off to address his staff with a speech about how surely we can achieve a great feat of humanity, "[a]s we did in the time when our eyes looked toward the heavens, and with outstretched fingers, we touched the face of God"--these days, when my prime concern is that the United States stop, you know, torturing innocent people and detaining them without charges, such contrived eloquence fails to register.

Another weirdly dated aspect of the show--and another thing that made me think the series began in the mid-90s--is that there is no shortage of Magical Negroes: a character being black on The West Wing is a sufficient condition for that character being noble, resolute, uncorruptable, competent, hard-working, good-natured, humble, and unfailingly wise. For instance, it is a black General who gently convinces Bartlet not to overreact to an attack on an American plane--an incident that Bartlet is particularly upset about, because it caused the death of his favorite black doctor, Capt. Morris. And Leo--Bartlet's muscle, a man so connected and powerful he could end the Vice President's career if he had to--meets his political match when he tries to pressure a black Congressman into a vote on a watered-down gun control bill. Finally, there's Charlie, who applies for an ordinary White House job to support his sister after the tragic death of his mother but is instead given the prestigious post of the President's "body man" (real life's Reggie Love) after Josh Lyman has a "feeling" about him. Charlie is, of course, unfailingly competent. All this goes on against the backdrop of white people sleeping with call girls (although not qua call girl), white people making fools of themselves, white people having drinking problems, white people making hard-hearted political calculations, white people acting eccentric, etc. I don't find any of it offensive--just quaint and very politically correct in a Clinton-era sort of way.

In any case, all this, I think, doesn't make the show bad, so much as not current. It is still fascinating to see a depiction of what things might look like in a functioning White House, and I still like the characters. Oh, and also, all this is only a judgment made from the first handful of episodes--no doubt some of the awkwardness will be smoothed out once the show really begins to hit its stride.

PS: Recently, I re-read that dialog between Bartlett and Obama written by Sorkin (in Maureen Dowd's column space) from during the election. It's interesting how wrong the advice is that Bartlett gives. He says, "GET ANGRIER! Call them liars, because that’s what they are. Sarah Palin didn’t say “thanks but no thanks” to the Bridge to Nowhere. She just said “Thanks.” You were raised by a single mother on food stamps — where does a guy with eight houses who was legacied into Annapolis get off calling you an elitist?...Get angry. Mock them mercilessly; they’ve earned it." It's exactly the sort of fightin' posture that makes sense for an embattled Democratic President of the 1990s, and that doesn't make any sense for a Democratic President of 2009 who is the head of a governing majority.