‘Hillary and Clinton’ a surprisingly subtle remix of reality

Just when you would swear there was absolutely nothing more that could possibly be said about Hill and Bill, along comes Lucas Hnath’s surprising and even subtle play, “Hillary and Clinton,” currently receiving its world premiere at Victory Gardens Theater.

Hnath should already be familiar to some Chicago audiences for his two fascinating and very different plays produced here in recent seasons: “Isaac’s Eye,” a quirky portrait of the groundbreaking scientist, Sir Isaac Newton (at Writers Theatre), and “Death Tax,” a canny look at the vicissitudes of end-of-life existence (at Lookingglass Theatre). Now, in taking on the power couple whose soap opera lives have been with us for decades, Hnath has dealt with the familiar, but also has embroidered it with just enough imaginative yet believable moments of emotional upheaval to re-ignite interest. How much of it is truth? How much of it is fantasy? How much of it is what we’ve already speculated? The verdict is yours.

And oh yes, there is this: Hillary is played here by the excellent Cheryl Lynn Bruce, an African-American actress of just about the same age and body type as Hillary (if with more overt regret on her face, and without the beaming smile). This cross-racial choice was not specified in the script, but was the idea of director Chay Yew, and it turns out to be both more and less significant than you might think, yet intriguing nonetheless.

The time is January 2008. The place is a hotel room in New Hampshire. The primary season is in its earliest stages, with that “Other Guy,” as he is referred to in the play (you know him as Barack Obama), having already clinched a win in the Iowa caucus, and looking exceptionally strong in this tiny New England state that could just determine who will be leading the Democratic pack.

We are told by our meta-Hillary that we should imagine the play about to unfold takes place in an alternative universe. But of course we know better. The woman in question is exhausted but unbending. She knows the polls don’t look good, and her money is already running out. Her adoring political strategist, Mark (the ever spot-on Keith Kupferer), aches for her, but he also is a pragmatist. He urges her to consider a deal that would have her become Vice President. But after spending two decades on the sidelines, she is not buying into that option, noting that the sense of losing is the worst feeling one can have.

Mark also warns Hillary to “be careful,” because he senses she is just about to call Bill (John Apicella, physically quite different from his real-life alter ego, but a fine version of the “original”). Until now she has kept him in a state of chilly exile, but now she does call him, and he arrives immediately. He gets an icy welcome, but he knows how to worm his way into her good graces. And then he begins to dispense advice, all of it suggesting that she lacks the people skills that made him so successful.

Mark, who detests Bill, and brands him “old news,” happens to be more than a little in love with Hillary. Or perhaps he has just attached himself to the woman he thinks might ultimately bring him a bit of glory. But is Hillary so different? Didn’t she forge her destiny by holding on to Bill?

And then comes the visit of that Other Guy (played by Juan Francisco Villa), a rather chilly, businesslike figure who is willing to make a deal. Hillary agrees to the terms, but then she wins the primary because, as it happens, it appears she might have shed some tears at a luncheon.

Four very different egos at work in an antiseptic hotel room, with that Other Guy wondering why anyone would ever really want to be president at all, and noting that no one person is meant to have so much responsibility, and Hillary admitting she’d like to be free of Bill, though it’s clear she can’t quite manage it. A final image suggests a co-dependence that is at once totally understandable and beyond explanation.