In October 1960, the novelist Philip Roth, at the tender age of 27, made a striking observation: the complexities of reality were surpassing the realm of fiction. He articulated a profound truth when he stated, “The American writer has his hands full in trying to understand, and then describe, and then make credible much of the American reality.” Roth’s insights were punctuated by examples of individuals from the headlines—figures like the quiz-show fraudster Charles Van Doren, former Eisenhower chief of staff Sherman Adams, who resigned over ethical breaches, and, notably, Roy Cohn, the notorious McCarthyite prosecutor, who would later mentor a young Donald Trump.
Over the past 64 years since Roth’s poignant remark, it has become a frequent refrain that the novel can only capture so much of reality’s chaotic essence. Cinema and television, however, have not fared much better in this regard. The visual spectacle of screen narratives was, in many ways, meant to engage—favoring entertainment above all else. One might ponder: shouldn’t Hollywood have eventually depicted a president akin to our last two, Trump and Joe Biden? Or a plot twist reminiscent of this summer’s political upheaval, where an incumbent presidential candidate was effectively displaced, and his vice president ascended without winning a single primary vote? Yet, showrunners and filmmakers have largely failed to anticipate the extraordinary nature of modern presidencies and the tastes of the electorate.
Let us consider the portrayal of the American president in film. Morgan Freeman in Deep Impact, calmly steering the nation through the harrowing approach of a world-ending comet. Michael Douglas in The American President, embodying a popular yet introspective widower navigating the complexities of romance. Or Bill Pullman as President Thomas Whitmore in Independence Day, a charismatic Air Force veteran rallying his makeshift forces against alien invaders.
The archetypal cinematic president of the 20th century was shaped by the politicians of that time and the prevailing sensibilities. The lines between the two major political parties often blurred, with both sides adopting a polished, almost glamorous demeanor. In the 1980s and ’90s, being “presidential” meant exuding a Kennedyesque charm, a quality equally embraced by both Ronald Reagan and Bill Clinton. Each was elevated to a near-heroic status for a segment of the populace; even among dissenters, the office of the president maintained a certain dignity. This was further facilitated by a convergence of party policies, particularly as Clinton’s Democrats shifted rightward in response to Reaganomics. Therefore, Hollywood’s portrayals of presidents—regardless of party affiliation—did not necessitate significant differences.
It is a stretch to envision either Trump or Biden embodying the heroism of risking their lives to save humanity or possessing the gravitas to unify a nation in crisis. Biden’s age, for instance, poses challenges that traditional Hollywood narratives have rarely contemplated—such as an octogenarian president struggling in televised debates or facing internal party pressures to step aside. Cinematic presidents do not forget the names of world leaders or the circumstances surrounding their children’s deaths; they do not publicly misidentify politicians who are absent due to death. Such moments feel more akin to a Shakespearean tragedy.
As for Trump, he is a phenomenon unto himself. Which film truly captured the absurdity of a reality-TV star transitioning into a presidential candidacy, winning the presidency, then attempting to overturn the subsequent election, inciting a violent insurrection at the Capitol, facing indictments for financial misconduct, reclaiming the Republican nomination, nearly facing assassination, and making nonsensical claims about the fictional consumption of pets in Ohio—yet still polling competitively? Even in the most surreal comedy, these narratives would seem too outrageous. Television presidents typically do not engage in such blatant dishonesty. They exhibit a level of tact and restraint that feels entirely alien to Trump. In a cinematic context, something akin to the infamous “Access Hollywood” tape would likely serve as a pivotal moment determining the outcome of an election.
