There is no piece of media that excels at political satire quite like “Veep.” It’s not just Julia Louis-Dreyfus’ six consecutive Emmys for her portrayal of Selina Meyer, Armando Iannucci’s genius and provocative writing or a stacked cast that doesn’t have a second string. It’s everything about the show: every insult directed at Jonah Ryan, every atrocious and offensive misstep Selina’s staff makes, every chaotic sequence of events that bears a shocking resemblance to American political reality.
Running from 2012-2019, “Veep” follows Selina Meyer, the United States’ first female vice president, as she grapples with the pitfalls of being one heartbeat away from the presidency — a job she likens to being “declawed, defanged, neutered, ball gagged and sealed in an abandoned coal mine under two miles of human shit.” The series sees Selina’s ascendency to the presidency after the sitting president steps down, her re-election campaign, electoral loss and eventual bid for the White House again.
“Veep” never explicitly specifies which party Selina and her team belong to; in a 2016 interview, Louis-Dreyfus admitted that real politicians on both sides of the aisle have told her they view the characters as members of the opposing party. Keeping Selina’s party intentionally vague makes the series timeless and authentic, clean from the partisan vitriol that finds its way into much of today’s political comedy. Meyer’s staff is so ridiculous, so corrupt, so incompetent yet calculated. “Veep” doesn’t glorify Washington, D.C., doesn’t offer it any platitudes or saving graces. It’s offensive in all the ways we hope our politicians aren’t but know deep down that they are.
In season three’s “The Choice,” for example, Selina’s staff is forced to refine her stance on abortion as her presidential campaign looms. As her team crafts a statement, Press Secretary Mike McClintock (Matt Walsh) and Selina’s assistant Gary Walsh (Tony Hale) line up a row of fruits corresponding to the size of a fetus at each week of pregnancy, asking Selina to pick one to determine the cutoff point at which she’ll announce abortion should be legal. If that sounds like a wildly insensitive way to determine a stance, that’s because it is — and it’s one of the less objectionable PR solutions in the show.
When Mike suggests beginning Selina’s statement with a reference to her gender, she cuts him off, saying, “I can’t identify myself as a woman. Men hate that, and women who hate women hate that, which I believe is most women.” The entire conversation is absurd and completely insulting, but so much of it rings true in the real political climate. There are clear through lines between Selina’s hesitance to use identity politics and real longstanding debates about whether the United States can elect a female president. The episode, while outlandish, exemplifies what “Veep” does best: it pushes such realities to their absolute extremes, forcing us to question what good our government is ever capable of achieving.
“Veep” shines not only in its brilliant comedic writing, but in its talented ensemble cast. Part of what makes the show’s political landscape so authentic is the wide number of characters who reappear throughout the show, weaving in and out of plotlines and then taking a few episodes or even a whole season or two off. This brings viewers inside D.C.’s insider political culture and builds tension between characters over the seasons as they navigate political hurdles and crises.
While every cast member deserves high praise, Timothy Simmons’ portrayal of the ever-infuriating and antagonistic Jonah Ryan is notable. Selina’s staff lovingly refer to Jonah, a White House staffer and later New Hampshire representative, as Jonad, Jack and the Giant Jackoff, the Pointless Giant and One Erection, to name a few (and those are the least offensive). Reid Scott and Anna Chlumsky play Dan and Amy, two of Selina’s staffers with romantic tension and power-seeking competitiveness, beautifully, their chemistry a constant triumph throughout the show. And I’ll forever have a soft spot for Gary Cole’s Kent Davidson and Kevin Dunn’s Ben Cafferty, Selina’s oldest and most trusted advisors. Cole and Dunn play their characters’ learned cynicism and complicity in a corrupt system artfully, nailing home the notion that you must abandon all sense of human decency and morality to be successful in American politics. Of course, Hugh Laurie portrays Tom James, Selina’s charming but twisted eventual running mate, charismatically, teaching me at the ripe age of 16 that I can, in fact, be attracted to those 40 years my senior.
The show’s most poignant satire isn’t any of Selina’s lobbed insults at her colleagues, male military officers being unable to find the opening of Selina’s crypt (which is conveniently shaped like certain female genitals) or even an episode where Dan and Amy try to swing an election in Selina’s favor by stopping a recount in Nevada and then starting it up again (this episode aired in 2016 in a pinnacle moment of foreshadowing I don’t even think the Simpsons has ever reached).
What makes the show so iconic and authentic is its greatly successful satiric ending. In the final episode, as Selina fights to be her party’s presidential nominee, she must select Jonah as her running mate, which spurs both Amy and Kent to quit. Jonah epitomizes everything abhorrent about politics; he’s a nepo baby who rose to power by relying on misinformation and prejudice, who spreads anti-vax propaganda and is wholly idiotic and incompetent. But when his supporters are necessary for Selina to secure the nomination, she allows the worst candidate imaginable to become the second most powerful person in the country. And when Selina needs to promise a religious candidate that she will overturn gay marriage if elected in exchange for his support, she does it despite having a married lesbian daughter, effectively alienating her only child. The damage to Americans and those closest to her doesn’t matter as long as she wins.
Compounding her callousness, Selina is forced to choose between herself and Gary, the only person who stayed by her side throughout the ups and downs of her career, as her ex-husband’s illegal financial activity comes to light. She chooses herself, letting FBI agents arrest Gary as she steps onto the stage and accepts the nomination in the show’s final moments.
To win the presidency, Selina had to become so corrupt that even her most loyally depraved and power-hungry staffers abandoned her. And that is political satire at its best. When Selina finally gets a moment of peace in the Oval Office after her inauguration, she instinctively calls out to ask Gary for something, only for no one to answer. There’s no one left. She’s destroyed every semblance of good that ever existed in her staff. It’s because of this that, without fail, “Veep” will always be uncontestedly the best of the best, setting the bar for political satire in a way that defines both comedy and how we think about those who govern us.
