The West Wing

There has never been a shortage of praise for Aaron Sorkin’s long-running TV series. Now being celebrated on its 25th anniversary, The West Wing returns in a monster 28-disc Blu-ray set from Warners. Various commentators are remarking on its importance, and of course comparing the relatively sane & positive civics-minded political efforts it depicts with the appalling things we’ve seen happen in the last two decades.

Back in the 1970s, after political assassinations, race riots and Vietnam, there persisted a hopeful myth about the Kennedy ‘Camelot’ White House as a dream of Democracy unfulfilled. That historical moment seems less perfect now, but more than a few editorial writers feel their heart strings tugging whenever The West Wing is mentioned. If only reality were half as positive as the administration of Martin Sheen’s Jed Bartlet. Even when his White House do-gooders fail, we still get the feeling that Utopia could be within reach.

Aaron Sorkin called his show a Valentine to Public Service. It feels good just to think that the concept still exists.

We can Dream On, but take care. One mustn’t let our admiration for the show make us feel that more than half the American population agrees with us.

Having seen The West Wing in a previous streaming incarnation, we’re happy to report that the digital brush-up for the series — all 6,700 minutes of it — looks and sounds splendid on Blu.

There are political calamities a-plenty in the 7 years of episodes, but what grabbed everyone were the smart, funny characters. Sorkin wrote the series in a slightly elevated, stylized manner — his White House staffers are highly motivated by their jobs, and ON all the time. They toss witty banter back and forth, coining bon mots of GLW (Good Liberal Wisdom) as if Jed Bartlet had inspired them to heights of benign governance. Of course, they’re constantly making fun of their own ethics while resisting the call of cynicism. They are frequently tasked with finding a truth to tell the public that won’t be weaponized against them. Compared to average TV fare, the level of discourse is indeed elevated, and almost all of it still feels very smart.

Sorkin envisioned his president Bartlet with a human side — too excitable, maybe too focused on being popular with his minions. Jed is also a brilliant man, and not quite as self-aware as he thinks he is. In an early episode a medical aide Bartlet likes is killed by terrorists, and both his advisors and the military must coach him against exacting retribution with a major military strike. Bartlet hides other things in his background and health history that crop up along the way. The prominent ‘liberal’ actor Martin Sheen doesn’t present the President as infallible — Bartlet is more interesting than we would have thought possible.

Hovering around the Oval Office are All The King’s Men (and women). They are minions of the Deep State big-time achievers, academic winners, and top thinkers — what makes them think they should have any business in government?  Bartlet’s deputy chief of staff Josh (Bradley Whitford) has a habit of putting his career in jeopardy by actually saying what he thinks on news shows. He eventually becomes a campaign manager for an up & coming new Presidential hopeful.

Communications director Toby Ziegler (Richard Schiff) is Bartlet’s key speechwriter, a great man of letters. Toby harbors feelings of failure and futility despite being a moral anchor in the West Wing. Waiting for him near the end of the series is an unavoidable moral-ethical dilemma. Sam Seaborn (Rob Lowe) is Toby’s deputy, and a major contributor to the speeches needed by the administration. He’s as principled and dedicated as he is handsome.

John Spencer’s Leo McGarry is The President’s chief of staff, an aging political war horse who knows all the angles. Leo has a masterful talent for exerting influence without cultivating resentment. An all-work guy, McGarry sacrifices his marriage for the job, and holds out against opposition efforts to ruin his reputation.

Everyone’s favorite is Allison Janney’s C.J. Cregg, Bartlet’s press secretary.  C.J. has the skill and personality to coddle unruly reporters, sidestep annoying distractions, and get most of the rest of the media dancing to her tune. Her sense of humor is contagious, as she’s given the kind of smart observations and pithy rebound comments that were once the province of character actors like Eve Arden. She also fills the periphery of the show with warmth — we partly believe in these intellectual elites because C.J. likes them.

Another favorite is Josh’s assistant Donna Moss, played by Janel Moloney. What would normally be a thankless expositional role is instead an active conscience for Josh and others. Ms. Moloney is an original, with a face and manner that make her seem as if she could be Shelley Duvall’s half-sister. (That’s a good thing.)

A look at the extended guest star cast reveals plenty of star power … Philip Baker Hall, Edward James Olmos, William Devane, Hal Holbrook, Marlee Matlin, Jimmy Smits. Most have recurring, meaningful parts to play. Actor John Amos, who just passed away, exudes responsible authority as a high-ranking military chief.

Today’s commentators point out some things in the show that have dated, despite being progressive for 1999. They detect a slight homophobic attitude and a modicum of sexism — the women tend to react with inspired common sense, while male thinkers like Toby, Sam and Josh dish out the heavy-duty judgments. Tokenism is sidestepped by devoting a very good major subplot to Jed Bartlet’s new personal assistant Charlie Young (Dulé Hill), a post-high schooler who thought he was getting a simple messenger job. Charlie turns out to have interpersonal skills beyond his years. He also turns out to have more than his share of outright courage.

The slick, energized direction goes at a pace that keeps us on our toes — no moss grows on these giants of democracy. The teleplays don’t mind using bold dramatic devices — our first introduction to Jed Bartlet shows him crashing a meeting between Toby and Josh and some belligerant Christian rightists. Bartlet whips the church folk into submission and all but gives them the bum’s rush. That kind of anachronism is welcome — who on TV would now dare to even question the religious right, and not expect to receive pickets and death threats?

It’s just your usual Steadicam office racetrack shot.

The TV show is centered in the impressively cramped warren of offices that compose the West Wing, especially in early episodes when things are being established. The camera direction avoids the worst visual cliches of the Millennium Years, like bleached-out color and the dreaded ‘shaky-cam’ plague. The main visual-directorial choice we now notice are the frequent ‘office steeplechase sprints.’ With a handheld cameras racing to keep up, Leo McGarry or Toby Ziegler or C.J. will lead somebody on a swift trucking shot through several offices, with plenty of fast-paced dialogue and cleverly timed tricks along the way. These extended one-take Steadicam shots here remind us how directors of the 1990s tried too hard to call attention to themselves, emulating the bravura trucking shots occasionally indulged by Martin Scorsese.

We don’t mind — the recurring camera gynmastics seldom feel forced. No points off.

It takes several episodes before we’re introduced to Jed Bartlet’s first lady, who turns out to be a charming Stockard Channing. Jed’s daughter Zooey shows up early and is revealed to be played by Elisabeth Moss, several years before she attracted major attention on the game-changing show  Mad Men. Ms. Moss is only 17 here. Every bit of casting for The West Wing reveals good, creative decision-making. Tim Matheson does well as the Vice-President, a principled Democrat outside Jed Bartlet’s inner circle. Actor Jimmy Smits takes on a major role in the last 3 or so seasons.

Although real-life events like 9/11 have been worked into the story, The West Wing operates in an alternate reality where liberals enjoy a shaky control over the country’s business. There are plenty of unreasonable politicians, and Josh sometimes risks apoplexy railing about the Republican opposition. But the message we ultimately receive is that some form of political sanity will prevail. That history has gotten so out of whack in the last ten years only confirms The West Wing’s status as a near- Utopian oasis. Was the show too idealistic, and too out-of-touch with citizens that want to demolish the government, but keep its benefits and privileges?  We see nothing wrong with setting an optimistic, hopeful example.

Okay, we can’t elect Martin Sheen for President … and we really wouldn’t want to. Here’s hoping that the notion of Selfless Public Service makes a major comeback.