From the time Donald Trump first bulldozed his way into American politics, artists have found themselves irresistibly drawn to his singular brand of anarchic, blundering leadership. As much as his grotesque policies and thinly veiled prejudices are worthy of scorn, his caricaturish, pantomime villain personality has proven to be a seemingly limitless muse. Consequently, references to Trump, both explicit and subliminal, can be found percolating through the outputs of creatives across virtually every artistic practice. But while artists have found Trump's absurdities inspiring, POTUS's ardent followers have been quick to call foul when satire has strayed too close to propaganda.
Earlier this year, comedian Kathy Griffin was blasted by those on both the left and right ends of the political spectrum when she tweeted a picture of herself holding a bloodied severed head - a fake one, obviously - with an unmistakable likeness to Donald Trump. Connections were immediately made to the beheadings carried out by Islamic extremists, and Griffin quickly kowtowed to the backlash with an apology. Similarly, a recent production of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, staged in New York's Central Park, transplanted the action from ancient Rome to present day Washington. Right-wing protesters disrupted several performances, which depicted a Trump-esque Caesar being fatally stabbed.
But whereas some artists have taken aim at Trump via metaphorical methods, Assassins, by the master of American musical theatre Stephen Sondheim, takes the anti-president sentiment to another level entirely. In the guise of a vaudevillian cabaret, this musical offers a revue-style exploration of the men and women who have attempted, some successfully, others thwarted, to kill an American President.
"These ethical issues have always been part of this show from the start"
Written in 1990, Sondheim's musical, with book by John Weidman, was penned decades — and three full presidencies — before Trump's ascent to the Oval Office, and yet staging this show at the present moment feels nonetheless provocative. Director Dean Bryant, whose new production of Assassins opens at Sydney's Hayes Theatre, has been fascinated by the moral conundrum Sondheim poses. "These ethical issues have always been part of this show from the start, long before Trump came along," he insists. "Of course, as soon as you put humans on stage, you're asking an audience to empathise and engage with them, even if they are murderers. And given the subject matter, people are going to be making those Trump connections. The reason the show has been programmed now was, of course, because of the Presidential situation. It's so horrific, but it feels just by putting on a show like Assassins we're already addressing the elephant in the room, without having to do anything besides actually presenting it like any other production: well cast, well designed, well executed."
Ironically, for a work that feels so closely aligned with the political now, Bryant has resisted the temptation to draw links to Trump too conspicuously. "The piece already does so much of the work for you," he explains. "Making those connections too overpowering could easily diminish the power of the work as a whole. It is a historical piece. It gets into the guts of these critical moments and tries to make the audience curious about these people who made extraordinary choices to change the course of history. I think where Trump comes into play is in the way he has made politics this win or lose game, as opposed to what it's meant to be, which is finding a decent way for 250 million people to feel that their interests are being met."
Bryant may not be over indulging in Trump references with this production, but he remains acutely aware of how the 45th President has ignited a level of fascination with American politics that has been essential in making a staging of Assassins in Australia tenable. "This show is still really radical, in so many ways. And the fact that, right now, the entire world is engaging with America's political history does make it even more fascinating. It's kind of showing how screwed up even good Presidents were," Bryant shares. "America's never been pure. It's always been this weirdly compromised country; people doing bad things for money and power. It's the American way. Everyone is expected to succeed, and if you're not succeeding and achieving, what's the reason? Are you a victim? Are you lazy? There's no space for just existing in America, you're either a winner or a loser. And Trump, my god, he pushes that message in just about every way possible."
Another facet where Trump's influence can be felt is in the design of the production. "You can kind of see Trump's values manifest in his personal style. He loves things that are tacky. The people who he thinks are cool are usually just awful. In many ways, I think people dislike him personally more so than his policies, because he's so distasteful and vulgar. I don't think that would matter so much if he were vulgar and savvy, or if he were vulgar but had things he genuinely cared about. But he's vulgar and shallow, and that combination is incredibly unlikeable," Bryant notes. "As part of our design for the show, we've taken on board that idea of the throwaway nature of things, that disposable, crass vulgarity. Things that once shone have now broken down. We've kind of placed the action in a junkyard theme park, where there's all these left behind signs that used to promise fun and thrills. Now they're just tacky and dead, a pile of broken promises."
Hayes Theatre Company presents Assassins 15 Sep — 14 Oct
