Shipwreck of State

Mr. President has followed a course that compares with the maiden voyage of the S.S. Titanic. It left port with a glittering credits list; on board were fabled scions of U.S. show business--Irving Berlin, Howard Lindsay, Russel Crouse, Leland Hayward, Joshua Logan. As it plowed through the murky theatrical waters of Boston and Washington, iceberg-cool critics put a sizable hole in its hull. Drifting into view on Broadway, Mr. President carried a trapped and talented crew that seemed to take comfort in huddling together at the finale to sing an Irving Berlin version of Nearer, My God, to Thee called This Is a Great Country ("If this is flag waving, flag waving, do you know of a better flag to wave?"). But unlike the "unsinkable" Titanic, Mr. President will take at least two years to go under; it has more than $2,650,000 in advance ticket sales.

If Mr. President is saddening proof of how old pros can fail, it also points up a danger to which seasoned theater hands are prone, that of substituting showmanly expertise for solid substance. Despite a disclaimer, the character of President Stephen Decatur Henderson (Robert Ryan) is fairly obviously modeled on Ike, and his First Lady (Nanette Fabray) could double for Jackie Kennedy. This opportunistically split ticket suggests the synthetic viewpoint of a show that never intended to say something, but merely to trade on exalted somebodies.

Even this might have been amusing if the script were not so doggedly glum. In Act I, the President glooms about being in the White House, little-boy-blues-singing his way through such laments as It Gets Lonely in the White House. All through Act II, the ex-President glooms about being out of the White House, dosing himself with musical pep pills (You Need a Hobby). Having opted for sentiment instead of satire, Mr. President should have been rousingly rah-rah; instead, it is mostly nahnah.

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