Donald Trump’s early portrayal as a real estate developer on The Apprentice has long generated headlines and legal threats. The Ali Abbasi biopic starring Sebastian Stan paints President Trump in such an unflattering light that the Trump campaign is threatening to set Hollywood on fire. Despite receiving a standing ovation at the Cannes Film Festival, the film appears to have shocked the former president enough to prompt a cease-and-desist letter from his lawyers, saber-rattling to protect their image-conscious clients. I was sent.
But is parody effective when it comes to Trump? Is it possible, in 2024, to satirize someone who has lived their entire life as if they had been doing satire all their lives? This form has turned one’s life into a three-ring circus for decades, often with Veep or There seems to be a consensus among the guys who have spent their lives replacing big laughs with farce in a way that surpasses shows like Succession.
in a state of deafness
Satire, by its very nature, aims to ridicule, to hold up a mirror to power and expose its absurdity. But in the age of Trump, satire often fails not because it lacks accuracy, but because it cannot transcend reality.
A figure like Trump is a kind of post-satire figure. His mix of bravado, brashness, and reality TV instincts creates a persona impervious to the usual tactics of skewering and ridicule. It’s hard to parody a narcissist who is already a caricature of himself. The Apprentice’s mission to expose and exaggerate President Trump’s flaws for dramatic effect risks failing, not because the film isn’t well made, but because its subject matter is already a walking punchline. There is. Why ridicule someone whose brand of absurdity surpasses all fiction?
Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert have helped turn a generation of young people into political junkies with their scathing, rapid-fire satires of every administration since Bush, but the grinning talk show hosts The dissection still felt like poking something. Authentic. Bush, despite his shortcomings, still existed within a framework that satire could undermine. Trump, on the other hand, loves chaos.
President Donald Trump dances after speaking at a campaign rally at Wilmington International Airport | Photo by Alex Brandon
Political satire in contemporary American films feels more like a slow surrender than a victory, especially when confronted with a figure like Trump. These efforts appear toothless and redundant because they are being done within the framework of norms that President Trump has already dismantled. Take film director Adam McKay’s satire, for example. This can be seen in movies like Don’t Look Up and Vice. Critics complained that it was too outlandish and the message too explicit.
But in a world where blatant absurdity is the norm, subtlety may no longer be relevant.
Evidence of its absurdity, for example, is Trump’s constant barrage of tweets, each of which seemed to effortlessly lampoon himself. Whether it’s misspelling a word (“covfefe”), attacking an opponent with a schoolyard curse (“Crooked Hillary” or “Sleepy Joe”), or literally cheating death with a fist-pumping swagger. Trump’s self-satire was too extreme. Comedians had a hard time keeping up. They didn’t need to exaggerate his rhetoric. They just repeated it. It’s no wonder Saturday Night Live ultimately chose to use a direct transcript of his speech for the sketch. Trump did the heavy lifting, so parodying the former president was superfluous.
absurd persona
Herein lies the problem for satirists in the Trump era. How can you successfully ridicule someone who lives so comfortably within his or her own “concept of planning”? As of now, the game appears to be rigged. Even Alec Baldwin’s famous portrayal of Trump on SNL, which drew both praise and criticism, began to lose its potency the longer Trump remained in the spotlight. After all, Trump never seemed fazed by these performances. He wears parody like a badge of honor, incorporating it into his own narrative of media victimization.
Donald Trump surrounded by US Secret Service agents at a campaign rally | Photo by Evan Vucci
All of this suggests that the power of satire may have diminished in the face of the enormity of President Trump’s personality. It’s not just that he’s less susceptible to ridicule. It’s that once that satire is applied to him, it no longer seems subversive. Rather than undermine his credibility, satire was often incorporated into his larger-than-life mythology, making him invincible rather than invincible.
Satire in Indian films, unlike in American films, rarely penetrates the political class with the same precision. Here, movies are often a vehicle for hero worship and melodrama. There is little attempt to skewer it politically. Although Bollywood occasionally dips its toe into the genre, satire is both unprofitable and risky, given its ingrained culture of deifying politicians. Unlike President Trump’s caricatures, Indian politicians tend to cultivate mythical and incomprehensible figures, leaving little room for films to poke fun at them without inviting controversy or censorship.
Gone are the days when pseudo-biopics like The Great Dictator and mockumentaries like The Interview were the gold standard of political satire. The genre has to evolve, but how?
As The Apprentice opens in theaters across the country, the film may raise more questions than answers about the role of satire in documenting extraordinary lives. Mr. Trump has long proven he doesn’t accept satire. Rather, it was his ability to laugh off criticism and turn it into spectacle that cemented his brand. And for the ultimate showman, that may be the most dangerous punchline.
Published – October 18, 2024 2:05 PM IST
