A POLITICAL CONVENTION
IN SEARCH OF DIRECTION

An ambitious recreation of the 1944 Democratic
National Convention gets the atmosphere right but
leaves even a knowledgeable observer bewildered

Convention, now lodging at The Industry Loft, is billed as a “groundbreaking, immersive political play.”

Walking into a superbly executed conventional convention hall set—part gymnasium, part hell’s waiting room—I’m almost ready to believe the hype. The environment already radiates the feeling of “realpolitik” as members of the audience have “donated” to increase their prestige (and raise their ticket price) from delegate to candidate.

The design team working with writer/director Danny Rocco has done a very skilled job of recrafting a very specific time and place, and recreating a very specific historical event—July 21, the third and final day of the 1944 Democratic National Convention in Chicago.

Now, for historical-slash-political junkies, this holds promise. The 1944 presidential campaign bore a ponderous burden. It would be Franklin Roosevelt’s fourth term as president. When FDR ran for his third term, in 1940, the chant was heard:

“Washington wouldn’t,
Teddy couldn’t,
Roosevelt shouldn’t!”

But while the unprecedented “Fourth Term” aroused constitutional concerns, there was a more pressing worry among Washington “insiders.” FDR’s failing health was an open secret, and it was acknowledged that, in all likelihood, the vice president would be called on. At the start of the 1944 convention, Henry Agard Wallace was vice president. Three days later, he wasn’t.

Eleanor Roosevelt, her husband, and the ranks of the New Deal’s faithful all supported Wallace. The party’s conservatives, the “Dixiecrats,” the “bosses,” and the industrialists didn’t. A Wall Street banker told a reporter that Wallace was his “second choice” for vice president. His “first choice,” he added, was “anybody else.”

The repercussions of the 1944 Democratic National Convention would be massive. The changing of the vice presidency changed history.

Convention, with a cast of nearly fifty, has succeeded in the duplication of a party congress—a hive of havoc.

This is not necessarily a good thing.

There is financing in this epic effort: The space, the costuming by Alayna Licardi, the lighting by Chad Harrell, the sound by Chris Porter, the set design—all indicate backing. And the cast: Henry LeBlanc as Henry Wallace (one of the oddest politicians in American history), Jennifer Lamar as Lilo Wallace, Deanna Ezrol as Bess Truman, Elizabeth Ivy Southard as Frances Perkins (who rose from the Triangle Factory fire to be the first woman to serve in a presidential cabinet), Jill Karrenbrock as Helen Douglas (Nixon’s “pink lady,” a pioneering politician), Nathan Frizzell as Claude Pepper, and J. Paul Boehmer as Harry Byrd.

The immersive part:

The audience is told the rest of the cast would be “The People… Labor workers and Convention attendees—portrayed by YOU.” Meaning US, the audience. We are ushered, shuffled into serving for various state delegations, and for those who are “immersive” shy, this aspect remains at a lot of “buzzing” about, and maybe a button.

For some unholy reason, I found myself heading the Oklahoma delegation.¹

Now, under the deft direction of a consummate theatrical master, Convention may have resulted in a commercial blockbuster. But Convention, lacking any evidence of deft direction, is a mess.

I know the story. I know the historical characters. I know who rose to power, who would die of alcoholism, who would jump under the sheets with LBJ, and I had no clue what was going on. When I did realize who the figures were on stage, I was beyond the point of caring.

There was no attempt to convey needed information to the audience. There was no provided context, and there were many talented souls on the stage who should know better. I don’t understand the intention of Mr. Rocco’s Convention. He’s taken an obscure, yet crucial, modern political event and rather than provide clarity, applied muddle.

The production speaks of passion, but not reflection, artistry lacking craft.

Convention is unquestionably someone’s “vision.” Whether that vision is “visionary” is debatable.

¹ Also in the program, the disembodied voice of Franklin Roosevelt heard early on in the proceedings is credited as “Portrayed by… God?” Is he Equity?

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

photos by Julio Javier Vargas

Convention
The Industry Loft, 755 N. Highland Ave. in Los Angeles
2 hours, 30 minutes with intermission
Oct. 23 & 30 at 8; Oct. 24 at 3; Oct. 25 & Nov. 1 at 3; Nov. 3 at 7
ends on November 3, 2026
for tickets ($44–$100), visit Convention Play

for more shows, visit Theater in LA

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦