'All the Way’: LBJ on Broadway

It was a highly charged time of violence, change, and uncertainty, and those of us who lived through it remember that year with sharply mixed feelings of fear and hope. The 12 turbulent months of political history that began in November 1963 are packed into Robert Schenkkan’s new bio-drama, All The Way. It’s a hugely ambitious work, using 20 actors to play multiple roles.

Among our recent presidents, LBJ hadn’t had his day on stage or film before now. Oliver Stone has already brought three other presidents to life in his epic biopics: the controversial JFK, the provocative Nixon, and the inconclusive W. Peter Morgan gave us Frost/Nixon, a taut drama that focuses on that president’s final, humiliating fall from grace, with a moving portrayal by Frank Langella. Bill Clinton has already appeared on the big screen in Primary Colors, played by a winsome John Travolta. Lincoln had his big moment last year in the eponymous film created by the dream team of screenwriter Tony Kushner, producer Steven Spielberg, and actor Daniel Day-Lewis.

Herculean task

So playwright Robert Schenkkan is fortunate indeed that Bryan Cranston, star of the immensely popular Breaking Bad TV series, was looking for a stage role just at the time when All The Way was being developed at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. Cranston joined the cast when the play moved on to the American Repertory Theater in Cambridge, and he’s been with it all the way.

Schenkkan — himself a Texan familiar with the Johnsons — has delved into the character portrayal of this president in his first year of office with scholarly zeal and relish. Act I focuses on LBJ’s mobilization of presidential power and the Herculean task of passing the Civil Rights Bill. Johnson shrewdly assessed the national mood — one of mourning for a charismatic young president, in whose shadow LBJ found himself at a disadvantage. Using that stance as a strategy, Johnson publicly assumed a self-deprecating role of “accidental president” while privately wielding his enormous back-channeling skills to assume an iron-grip over his fractured party.

He knew when to glad-hand, sweet-talk and coax, when to dissemble, manipulate, and threaten, and when to tough-talk, arm-twist, and bully. He could be utterly charming and completely ruthless. So watching LBJ in action is fascinating.

Dazzling technique

He outmaneuvers the deceitful J. Edgar Hoover (an Iago-like Michael McKean), cajoles the malleable Hubert Humphrey (an affable Robert Petkoff), charms the recalcitrant Southern Democrat Richard Russell (a patrician John McMartin), marginalizes the messianic George Wallace (a look-alike Rob Campbell), and so on. “I love you more than my own Daddy, but if you cross me, I’ll crush you,” he tells one adversary, with his signature mixture of charm and brute force.

Playing a president is a huge challenge. The chameleon-like Bryan Cranston gets into LBJ’s skin to the point where you’re sure that he’s the man himself. Though he’s considerably shorter in stature than the real-life Johnson, Cranston seems to tower over his cast, dazzling us with his technique.

Cranston’s stage presence is matched by the admirable Brandon J. Dirden, who plays Martin Luther King with dignity, subtlety, and power. King has his own political mountain to climb (to paraphrase his legendary sermon) and his own factions to mobilize. He prove himself every bit LBJ’s equal in deploying his own considerable political acumen. Capturing the famous MLK vocal intonations, Dirden expresses King’s deep spirituality. The scenes between LBJ and MLK rank among the more dramatically satisfying in this fact-packed drama.

‘Running for your life’

Following passage of the Civil Rights Bill — the dramatic culmination of Act I — Act II focuses on preparations for the 1964 presidential election. It gains momentum with the courageous voter registration efforts in the South and their tragic consequences — the murder of the Mississippi Three (James Chaney, Andrew Goodman, Michael Schwerner) and the burning of 14 Southern black churches. Still, Johnson perseveres in seating the controversial Freedom Democratic Party delegates at the Convention and winning the national election.

With its three-hour flood of historical facts and figures, All The Way is as overwhelming as the explosion of confetti and streamers that showers the audience in the final convention scene. But Cranston’s charismatic performance provides the evening’s necessary dramatic focus, abetted by Christopher Acebo’s unifying scenic design. His seats of Congress fill the entire width of the proscenium, and actors come and go, taking their places, rising occasionally to play the scenes on the downstage apron. Cranston is almost always center stage, and when he shares it with Dirden, you feel the heartbeat of the times.

Still, I would have hoped to see more of the “hidden” LBJ, if indeed there was one. Occasionally, Schenkkan gives us a glimpse into Johnson’s inner life. “The most fearsome sound in the world is the tick-tick-tock of the clock,” Johnson ruminates in a rare moment alone onstage. “You’re not running for office, you’re running for your life,” he confides in another. In those glimpses, we’re reminded of the power of Morgan’s Frost/Nixon, which exposed that president at his most vulnerable point. That’s what great drama is made of: moments that move us. Perhaps more of the “real” LBJ will emerge in the dramatic sequel that Schenkkan is currently preparing.