What ‘Veep’ gets wrong about political journalism
Everyone who knows me knows that I’m obsessed with political shows and movies—especially HBO’s hit comedy Veep. Some mornings, I’ll open my HGO Go app (shoutout to USC Housing for the free subscription), precariously balance my phone on the edge my my bathroom counter while I get ready for the day, and watch reruns of Veep. I’ve finished the entire show at least five times but I love the familiar voices, theme music, catchphrases, gag lines, quick-and-dirty storylines, and political banter. In Veep, the West Wing goes burlesque—politicians and all Washington, D.C. personnel are crass, mean-spirited, sexual deviants, outrageously funny, and often downright douchey. It’s fucking amazing.
Everything about the show—from its acid-tongued writing to its impeccable performances—is masterful in my eyes. I’ve watched every cast interview I could find on YouTube and spout Veep quotes in casual conversation on the weekly. (Apologies to my close friends, unless you haven’t noticed, in which case, joke’s on you.) The show is in the process of filming its final season and I can’t stop myself from scouring the @veephbo Instagram page for stories, posts, updates, and exclusive interviews with cast members.
I’m saying all this to establish my fervor for the show before I segue into my main point: A critique on how the show puts forth problematic stereotypes of journalists and misrepresents the relationship between the media and politicians.
A journalist is first introduced in the episode “Frozen Yoghurt.” Selina Meyer—the vain, foul-mouthed, hilariously lovable yet antagonistic protagonist—is supposed to attend a small press event at a local fro-yo establishment and, delayed by an unforeseen political emergency, her director of communications Mike and strategist Dan are tasked with fending off the irritating inquiries of a Washington Post reporter, Leon West. Oh, Leon. Where to begin?
Slight, bespectacled, and unassuming yet aggressive, Leon is a comedic goldmine in the attacks he levels against Selina’s administration and the issues he causes for her senior staffers. But outside of his countless punch lines, Leon as a journalist is portrayed as callous, calculating, and merciless. He is continually pitted against Selina as an enemy to her team and all politicians, a depiction I find problematic given the contentious state of contemporary government-media relations №45 has fostered.
At every one of Selina’s (many, many) fuck-ups and scandals, Leon is there, waiting to expose her. He threatens her with ultimatums and sniffs around everywhere he doesn’t belong, yearning for a scoop, any scoop. He is continually rude to chief of staff Amy and Mike when they do not cooperate with his reporting. He’s raising his hand at every press conference, shoving a notepad in people’s faces, and asking the hardest-hitting questions. At the end of the day, he’s just doing his job—and doing it well—but because viewers are aligned with Selina and her inner circle of staffers, everything Leon does seems oppositional and hostile. As such, journalism as a profession is vilified and portrayed as antagonistic to democratic processes and American governance.
While Leon is the primary journalist character, no political dramedy would be complete or accurate without a robust supporting cast of watchdogs and muckrakers. The rest of the journalists on the show remain largely nameless, except for Emily Lafuente, whom Selina refers to as “a vicious bitch and a fucking drunk.” (Honestly, one of the tamer insults in Veep.)
The trope of the alcoholic journalist is recurring and rampant, as well. In the episode “Tehran,” during which the team pays a visit to Iran, Mike and bagman Gary are sent to the press plane to deliver a message. Cracking jokes in reference to Iran’s religious ban on alcohol, Mike says, “I think they have the shakes so bad I can see the plane shaking.” Their encounter ends with the journalists booing and throwing litter at Mike and Gary, demonstrating their unprofessionalism and even childishness. Later, Mike and Gary are abandoned by Air Force One and decide to steal tiny liquor bottles so they will be welcomed onto the press plane. “In a dry country, the man with the alcohol holds all the power,” Mike tells a panicking Gary in yet another jab at journalists, “We have booze and they have a crippling dependency,”
Now, I would be perfectly happy to dismiss all this as quality entertainment with no deeper implications if it weren’t for the current political climate. In today’s age, all contrarian and exaggerated portrayals feed into an insidious mindset on the part of the American public and confirms for them that journalists have questionable morals and anti-government interests. The dangerous rhetoric №45 perpetuates about journalists is ultimately harmful to democracy as a whole—people need to understand that the free press and the government have a symbiotic, rather than a combative, relationship. This common yet utterly unfounded perspective will only grow and gain power if it is remediated in popular culture and television. Freedom of the press is a fundamental principle that America was built on—ever heard of a little something called the First Amendment?—and shirking that tenet in favor of cheap jokes at journalists’ expenses might have more dire consequences than showrunners realize.
Not that of this will stop me from rewatching Veep for the sixth time, but I think it’s worthwhile to recognize the problematic representations and discourse we circulate lest we forget how valuable and inextricable journalism is to our democracy. Because if that happens, well, Selina put it best…
