52 Time October 7, 2019
REVIEW
In Ryan Murphy’s Netflix
debut, a Politician is born
By Judy Berman
There’s someThing disTincTly Wes Anderson–esque
about The Politician, a semisatirical take on student govern-
ment that may be the most hyped new Netflix show of 2019.
Debuting Sept. 27, it features lush production design, stylized
performances and teens talking like they’re in an Oscar Wilde
play. Anderson alums Gwyneth Paltrow and Bob Balaban play
the parents of title character Payton Hobart (Broadway and
Pitch Perfect star Ben Platt). Though the series unfolds amid
the Spanish colonial mansions of Santa Barbara, the credits are
set to twee icon Sufjan Stevens’ orchestral anthem “Chicago.”
In fact, The Politician is the creation of Ryan Murphy
(with collaborators Brad Falchuk and Ian Brennan) and the
first product of his record $300 million Netflix development
deal. His voice becomes so conspicuous as its first season pro-
gresses that the show winds up being the purest expression of
his sensibility to date. Like American Horror Story, it tackles
contemporary anxieties in overwrought yet imaginative ways.
Like Glee, it’s about young people figuring out who they are;
queerness abounds, though in a post-Pose world, casual fluid-
ity is the rule. Authentic emotion coexists with camp. There’s
singing, dancing, violence, stunt casting, side plots ripped
from the headlines. The show is a lot. And it seems destined
to be both popular and polarizing.
We meet Payton, the super rich son of a doting mom (Pal-
trow) and hated little brother of twin preppy nightmares Mar-
tin (Trevor Eason) and Luther (Trey Eason), in his senior year
at posh Saint Sebastian High. He’s applying to Harvard—or,
more accurately, lobbying for admission—and running for
△
Payton (Platt) has
a plan for that—
and a supportive
mom (Paltrow) in
his cornerstudent body president. Both cam-
paigns are part of his lifelong plan to be-
come President of the United States, an
all-consuming goal he shares with the
small team of equally precocious kids
he’s recruited to help propel him all the
way to the White House.The hiTch comes when River (David
Corenswet), a handsome jock with
whom Payton had an affair, joins the
race at the urging of his spiteful girl-
friend, Astrid (Lucy Boynton). Gen-
tle and kind, with a moving openness
about his mental health, River connects
with voters on a human level. Payton, by
contrast, works hard and has good ideas
but can’t conceal his calculations. River
is a shoo-in—until he kills himself.
Murphy & Co. are careful to separate
his suicide from his sexuality. But there
are plenty of other false notes. Astrid
is annoyingly inconsistent. A side plot
about Payton’s running mate, the chron-
ically ill Infinity Jackson (Zoey Deutch),
quickly goes off the rails; though it’s fun
to see Jessica Lange play her deranged
grandma, the resemblance to Hulu’s
The Act (and the true story it’s based
on) falls somewhere between parody
and appropriation. Not all of the young
actors can keep up with a witty ensem-
ble that also includes Judith Light, Bette
Midler and January Jones.
Despite these nonminor problems,
I couldn’t stop watching. Murphy pro-
ductions are never boring, and this one
bursts with frothy twists and amusing
set pieces. An episode that detours into
the mind of a swing voter—a burnout
who just wants to ogle boobs—makes its
point about the gulf between politicians
and their alienated constituents.
Yet it’s Payton who makes the
show more than just fun. Though he’s
drowned his emotions in ambition, that
numbness haunts him. His plight raises
the question of whether you can make
a positive impact on the world with-
out being a good person—or if inner
purity can even hinder that work. Platt
makes this internal conflict riveting. “I
wanna know you,” Payton’s Harvard in-
terviewer says in the show’s first scene.
“The real you.” The request stumps
him. But by the end of the season, he’s
discovered more of a self than he ever
knew he had. TimeOff Television