The Best Man premiered in March 1960 when Gore Vidal was 34 years old and the top Broadway ticket price was $8.60. Both the author and Broadway tickets are now 75; and The Best Man is back, playing a limited engagement (through the final night of this year) at the Virginia Theatre on West 52nd Street.
On Broadway in 1960, The Best Man was one of many straight plays, serious in purpose if not necessarily solemn in tone. In 2000, with Broadway nearly bereft of non-musical plays, Vidal's comic melodrama is sui generis, hyped to a fare-thee-well, and studded with stars.
The biggest star involved is Gore Vidal himself, who has been close to the American limelight since birth. He's the grandson of a national politician (blind orator and Oklahoma senator T.P. Gore), the son of a pioneer in the aviation industry (who was also an extramarital beau of Amelia Earhart's), and the stepson to the Mr. Auchincloss who later became stepfather to Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis--which meant that, for a time in early adulthood, Vidal was convivial with the New Frontier set. He skipped college, publishing his first book at 20 and getting a jump on rivals his own age. Over the past 55 years, he has been a fiction writer (24 novels so far), essayist, screenwriter, memoirist, political commentator, and sometime political candidate, as well as having created five stage plays; his last Broadway outing was An Evening with Richard Nixon in 1972.
The Best Man, re-titled Gore Vidal's The Best Man for this revival, concerns shenanigans at the convention of an American political party during that bygone era when candidates were actually chosen in the course of conventions, rather than merely being anointed there. At Vidal's fictional Philadelphia convention, the delegates are debating the relative merits of a patrician intellectual (and former Secretary of State), William Russell, and the ruthless, self-made Senator Joseph Cantwell. A third candidate, strictly an off-stage character, isn't expected to figure in the competition--which should alert playgoers from the start that, in Vidal's mercurial universe, he'll play a significant role in the end.
Vidal claims The Best Man grew out of his ruminations on Henry James' 1890 novel The Tragic Muse. However, there's not much that's Jamesian in The Best Man, or anywhere in Vidal's work. James was absorbed with subterranean tensions; Vidal's gaze is fixed on the surface of things. In his novels and plays, Vidal renders, in detail and with gusto, the diverse textures of social and political life.
The Best Man contrasts two candidates representing opposing values: the ideal of public service versus raw, self-aggrandizing ambition. Secretary Russell, described at one point as "a superior man of the sort we don't get very often in politics," believes a politician should "reflect before he acts" and be guided by a "moral sense that goes beyond himself." The ferociously ambitious Senator Cantwell, on the other hand, will do anything to gain nomination. When each candidate receives potentially incendiary information about his rival's past, the political race veers off course with smear tactics, and self-preservation becomes each man's primary concern.
Gore Vidal's The Best Man utilizes the unrevised, three-act text of the Broadway original (though the production pauses for one intermission rather than two), with the time specified as July 1960. The only additions to the script are fragments of news commentary, inserted between scenes and read by the comforting, iconic voice of Walter Cronkite. Vidal follows the dramaturgical rules passed down from Sardou and Ibsen through more recent practitioners such as Terence Rattigan. Like most non-musical hits of mid-century Broadway, The Best Man is full of talk--more talk and less action than audiences are accustomed to nowadays. From first to last, though, it's good, sometimes irresistible, talk: colorful, smooth, taut, and witty.
Even during the first two scenes, which are loaded with exposition, there's hardly a minute devoid of interesting conflict; and the stakes are high for Vidal's characters from the moment the curtain goes up. Vidal sends the plot in astonishing directions, but the surprises are always credible, adhering to the inner logic of the playwright's fictional universe and the tidy specifications of the Rattigan method. As expected in any "well-made" play, the author introduces a weapon in the first act and discharges it before the evening's end. In The Best Man, there are two weapons: a stolen medical file revealing that Secretary Russell once underwent psychiatric treatment, and the forgotten transcript of a military court that suggests Senator Cantwell may have had an affair with a man while in military service.
What's intriguing is how questions coursing through the playwright's mind four decades ago remain urgent in 2000. As Gore Vidal's The Best Man proceeds from scene to scene, topics kicking around the op-ed pages of this election year come coursing across the footlights. Besides the ethics of attacking opponents on the basis of their personal lives, Vidal raises issues such as what role a candidate's religious conviction ought to play in political discourse; the gulf between genuine leadership and mere image; and the difficulty of maintaining integrity while gaining office.
With more than 15 speaking parts, The Best Man offers a gallery of political grotesqueries, plus a couple of apolitical figures swept into the vortex of the Philadelphia convention for reasons beyond their control. The most piquant roles, drawn by the playwright as bold-featured cartoons, are catnip to a crackerjack group of principals who grab their assignments with relish and race through the evening at breakneck speed. The celebrities in the cast are, without exception, appropriate to their parts. This is one all-star revival that spares the audience the queasy, all-too-familiar feeling that hiring decisions have been based strictly on box office appeal.