Hollywood's White House: The American Presidency in Film and History (review)

Hollywood's White House is one of the most enjoyable reads I have had in quite some time. I am an amateur student of film and a professional student of the presidency; not only did I learn quite a lot about filmography from reading this book, but much about the presidency itself. While it is often hard to glean from an edited volume a truly central theme, it strikes me that there is one largely unarticulated thread that ties this collection together. It seems that dramatic characterizations of the presidency say as much about the present as they do about the past.

In fact, because filmmakers are likely to exercise dramatic license in telling their stories, many films about the presidency are more interesting as a record of the era in which they were made than as a record of the era the film is supposed to depict. By this standard, The Adams Chronicles television series (1976), by depicting the role of Abigail Adams as central to the historical record, tells us that the women's movement was on people's minds at the time the series was produced. Or in its highlighted depiction of the relationship between Thomas Jefferson and Sally Hemmings, Jefferson in Paris (1995) reflects the importance of the debate over that controversial relationship at the time the film was made.

As film depictions of the presidency become less historically bound, they become even more accurate reflections of their own time. In Gabriel Over the White House, a completely fictionalized account of the presidency produced in 1933, the film's plot reflects America's brief flirtation with the protofascist philosophy of William Randoph Hearst—who produced the film and even wrote a speech delivered by the president in the script.

Almost all of the chapters in this collection are compelling and some are excellent. My favorites are the discussions of films depicting Abraham Lincoln by Brian Rommel-Ruiz and Thomas Jefferson by an outraged Jim Welsh. I think that listing the filmography in chronological order of the presidencies is as good a way as any to organize the book. However, as I have said, the films discussed are as much a reflection of their day as they are of the day they depict.

There is really only one clunker in the bunch, and it's not because the chapter is badly executed. The chapter about the news media's coverage of the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago is jarringly out of place. Not only is this piece not about the presidency, but it is also not in line with the theme of the book. I see a major qualitative difference between the entertainment media and the journalistic media (although I will admit the distinction is beginning to blur). Consequently, a chapter about news media coverage is largely out of place in a collection of film reviews. As I have said, however, this is not the fault of the author but of the editors.

With the exception of that one chapter, this volume is a lively and informative discussion of the intersection of art and politics. As such, this book would be appropriate for a course on film history or as a supplement for a class about the presidency. After all, as in life, politics follows art.