Friday, October 3, 2008

Realpolitik in Louisiana


This election year, when a certain amount of populism has come back into fashion, seems a good time to remember the remarkable career of Louisiana governor and senator Huey Long.

Long (aka "The Kingfish") was one of the few Democrats to oppose FDR's New Deal as being too conservative. He freed Louisiana from total domination by corrupt corporations, notably the Standard Oil Company, to the acclaim of its poverty-ridden citizens and the horror of its educated and wealthy elite. Between 1928 and 1932, he rammed through the legislature a remarkable program of public works and progressive taxation, surviving impeachment in 1929, and winning election to the U.S. Senate in 1932.

Long's accomplishments did not come without a cost: his total personal domination of every agency of Louisiana government -- he virtually eliminated self-government for New Orleans and other cities -- and deliberate, planned corruption and cronyism in the awarding of government contracts. Long was loved by the masses, but he was completely ruthless in destroying the careers not only of his political opponents, but of their innocent relatives as well. He was compared, at the time and since, to Mussolini. Assassinated in 1935, he left a dynasty that exerted great influence in the state, right up until the death of Senator Russell Long in 1987.

As a guy with some modest literary pretentions, I'm embarrassed to admit that I've never read Robert Penn Warren's 1946 novel, All the King's Men, based loosely on the life of Huey Long. Nor have I seen either the 1949 Oscar-winning movie of that book, or the less successful Sean Penn film from 2006.

However, last night I did see Intiman's theatrical production, adapted from the book by Adrian Hall. The production was totally delightful, and may have provided me just the push I need to go back and read its source. From plot summaries I've read of Warren's novel, the play followed the plot of the book closely.

First of all, I can tell you that I'm very happy not to have grown up in the rural South, and, especially, not in 1930's Louisiana! The people and events -- and certainly the accents -- at times were creepy reminders of the gothic plays of Tennessee Williams, although Warren's interests, intent, and philosophy of life were quite different from that playwright's. The play (and, I gather, the book) tells the story of Willie Stark, a self-described "redneck" politician, and his ascent to political power -- an ascent based on class resentment and the support of the hitherto powerless masses, and on Stark's determination to govern for the benefit of the underprivileged. Stark scorns his critics, reminding them that corruption and sin are simply the human condition; unlike his critics, he acknowledges and accepts that fact and uses life as he finds it -- including fear, bribery, graft and corruption --to advance the welfare of the lower classes.

But Stark's rise is but a background to the primary story, which is that of Jack Burden. Burden, a newspaper reporter with roots in Baton Rouge society, becomes first an amused observer of the Willie Stark phenomenon, and ends up as Stark's right hand man.

The play presents Burden's life: his progress from detached observer, to ironic participant, to philosophical nihilist, and, finally -- transformed by shame for bowing to Stark's pressure and betraying his own step-father, causing his suicide, by the loss of his childhood sweetheart, and by Stark's ultimate assassination -- into a more fully realized human being who accepts the paramount importance of a man's responsibilities to others and participation in their lives.

Intiman mounts its production with a cast of 18. The cast sings in ensemble a number of songs from the period, songs that convey a feeling for life in the Depression South. John Procaccino and Leo Marks, who play Stark and Burden respectively, give outstanding, nuanced performances as real people doing their best in a corrupt and selfish world. This production plays nightly through November 8 at Intiman Theatre.

No comments: