Last laughs with the First Family

Yesterday Luis and I were in DC to see the final performance of Mister Roberts at The Kennedy Center. Our friend Steve, who played Doc, was one of the three leads, along with Hunter Foster from The Producers and Michael Dempsey. The play was on a trial run to test its appeal for Broadway, but that doesn't look likely. The massive set, which consisted of part of an actual ship, a functioning winch, and a goat, cost more than $300,000, and few, if any, Broadway theaters are large enough to accommodate it.

Mister Roberts is a play that's tailor made for a nostalgic, patriotic Beltway crowd. A comedy-drama that won five Tonys in 1948 and was made into a movie in 1955, it takes place in World War II aboard the cargo ship the USS Reluctant. Although the play is somewhat dated, the bullying, none-too-swift captain (from Massachusetts) reminded me of a certain contemporary political figure who, incidentally, happened to be attending this performance.

Steve had told us ahead of time to arrive early because security would be tight for the President's arrival. Cars were not allowed to park underground, and we all had to go through metal detectors. As Luis and I sat in a coffee shop in the Watergate complex, with a clear view of The Kennedy Center, we saw several commercial jets passing overhead that had just taken off from National Airport (I get seizures when I call it Reagan Airport).

Did no one remember that The Kennedy Center is in a commercial flight path? we both wondered.

It was amusing to watch Washington high society removing their blazers, pearls, and stoles to pass through the metal detectors, as helicopters swirled outside, K-9 teams stood ready, and wired (and hunky) Secret Service agents eyed the crowd for troublemakers. But they didn't need to worry: the average theatergoer looked to be somewhere between 65 and death. Leading to the men's room was a line of broken hips waiting to happen.

No announcement was made that Dubya and the missus were there, but everyone eventually figured it out, not-so-subtly pointing and staring at the center mezzanine where the First Couple was seated within plain sight. Even in the seat of government, DC residents were as awed by seeing them as people in Peoria would be. As much as we detest the man's politics, even Steve admitted that it's pretty cool performing for the President of the United States. If only it could have been a different one.

Steve wondered whether Dubya would come backstage to greet the cast ("Funny...Funny stuff...The goat...Funny stuff."), but he didn't.

The Washington Times review said, "Mister Roberts ... stands as a surprisingly heartwarming monument to the peak achievement of the 'greatest generation,' the men and women who fought the great war against fascism with unquestioning patriotism, self-effacing courage and little sense of moral ambiguity." Delicious irony!