However questionable the idea of sitting through a political farce might sound at the moment given the far more frightening farce in our real-life political midst, I was pleasantly surprised by how much fun I found The Outsider. First performed in 2015, this charming play by Paul Slade Smith has, if anything, become even more timely in the nine years since its premiere. For similar reasons, it has also amassed substantial popularity, this year celebrating its 125th production.
But you only have one more weekend and three more performances to catch West Boca Theatre Company’s winning version of this easy-to-swallow play, which wisely manages to avoid tangling with any potentially controversial hardballs in favor of good old-fashioned screwball comedy that comes with only a hint of social commentary.
At the top of the play, we meet Ned Neebly, who had until this point been content with his role as the Lieutenant Governor of a rural American state, the name of which I don’t believe the play ever specifies. Until now, Neebly has been content being the brains in the background behind the more charismatic Governor, his one-time running mate Larry Clark.
But when Clark is caught concealing an illicit affair with a beauty pageant contestant and is consequently ejected from office, Neebly is suddenly thrust into the spotlight as he becomes the Governor proper. In a way, this set-up is almost enough to make one nostalgic for the days when a sex scandal or two were the worst things that Washington had to worry about!
The problem, however, is that for all Neebly’s acumen when it comes to actually governing, he suffers from a paralyzing stage fright that makes “playing politics” all but impossible. When forced on camera for his swearing-in ceremony, it’s all he can do to mumble his way through it, something that makes him a national laughing stock when a clip of the incident goes viral.
It’s a quick screening of this clip that kicks off The Outsider, which otherwise takes place entirely in the oval-office-esque Governor’s office impressively designed by Alan Nash and Mark Hernandez and perfectly decorated by Holly Budney. There, Neebly’s idealistic head staffer Dave Riley, who was until this point also Neebly’s only staffer, is frantically trying to run damage control. Riley’s new makeshift team also includes an ambitious pollster named Paige Caldwell, a former co-worker of his, and a tenth rate temp named Louise Peakes, who is so inept at almost everything that it almost defies believability.
Though the play takes perhaps a little too much expositional time establishing this framework, it begins to transform from something vaguely amusing to truly uproarious with the arrival of political pundit Arthur Vance. A respected Washington insider, he’s chosen to take on Neebly as a protege not in spite but because of his disastrous public debut. Having observed our nation’s propensity for choosing candidates whose simple rhetoric can resonate with the “common man” as opposed to those whose intellectualism alienated him, he’s decided to make stupidity a strategy. In other words, he’s come to teach Neebly how to play up his ineptitude— because he genuinely thinks that playing the fool might be Neebly’s best shot at winning over his new constituents.
After some hardcore coaching from Vance, Neebly does indeed make some impressive strides in his efforts to come across as exactly that fool in his next major interview. But, as another few farcical mishaps would have it, Vance is lucky enough to find an even more “promising” candidate when Louise Peakes— our dimwitted temp— stumbles into Neebly’s interview and accidentally announces herself as his nominee for Lieutenant Governor. For all-American Louise — soon to begin campaigning under her nickname “Lulu”—doesn’t need to play dumb for the cameras. She can simply be herself!
Both the situation and the one-or-two note characters are a little too broad and silly to take particularly seriously, which limits the work’s impact as genuine political commentary as opposed to a carefree romp. Even so, there were a few moments that I found myself cringing at the current-events implications of Vance’s spouting lines like “unqualified is the new qualified” or about the public tendency to elect “idiots who look like leaders.” On a similar note, it was almost painful to behold Riley’s desperate conviction that Neebly can get elected on his actual merits when the idea of a sincere candidate infiltrating the ersatz circus that is modern politics is becoming an increasingly absurd one.
