More theatrical: politics or theater?

The Tony Awards will air on Sunday, honoring the leading lights of America's second most theatrical institution: the theatre. More theatrical is politics, now more theatrical than ever given that we are led by a Falstaff who fancies himself a Macbeth as he struts and frets his hour upon the stage hating moors while threatening to cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war.

The recent success of "Hamilton" reminds us that history is no stranger to the footlights. It's hard to imagine Shakespeare cranking out "The Tragedy of Julius Caesar," " Antonio and Cleopatra" or "Troilus and Cressida" without first dusting off Plutarch's "Lives." In 1931 George Gershwin and George S. Kaufmann wrote "Of Thee I Sing" and its most comic character was Vice President Alexander Throttlebottom, modeled after Herbert Hoover's bumbling sidekick, Charles Curtis. In 1969 the Tony for Best Musical went to "1776" despite critic Clive Barnes noting that "few historical incidents seem more unlikely to spawn a Broadway musical." It got the nod over "Zorba," "Promises, Promises" and "Hair." In 1977 the award for Best Musical went to "Annie," about the waif who leads President Franklin Roosevelt and his entire cabinet in a rollicking rendition of "Tomorrow."

Though our political culture tends to scorn real culture ("defund the National Endowment for the Arts!") and candidates like to talk about their sporting days, army records and all-around regular Joe-dom, a surprising number of presidents have had refined tastes, and some even had talent. Thomas Jefferson and John Tyler were accomplished violinists. Richard Nixon and Harry Truman had mothers who saw to it that they practiced the piano, and Truman would bring the score with him to follow along at recitals. Nixon was a self-admitted thumper at the ivories, and tried his hand at writing songs, but never got anywhere. The horn section includes Warren Harding who played cornet in the Marion, Ohio town band, and Bill Clinton, who donned shades as he blared "Heartbreak Hotel" on his sax for Arsenio Hall.

John Quincy Adams began his diplomatic career at the age of 14 as an attaché to Henry Dana, minister to Russia. The Russian court spoke French, and Dana didn't. Johnny did. Later he served as minister to Russia, Prussia and the Netherlands. He fell in love with the theatre, particularly opera, during his time on the continent, writing home that he was mindful and wary of the notoriously loose morals of actresses.

Tyler, (a slave-owner) and Abraham Lincoln (the great emancipator) loved Shakespeare, and Lincoln's biographers agree that it is at least possible he had Macbeth memorized. His college-bound son Robert once got tangled in his own luggage and fell off a railroad platform in Passaic, New Jersey. He was helped back up by actor Edwin Booth. Young Lincoln recognized him and informed Booth that his father was a big fan. Months later Booth's brother John shot Robert's father, Abe. Incidentally, Abe had already seen "Our American Cousin," and didn't like it, but thought his wife Mary needed a night out. They invited General Ulysses S. Grant to join them, but Grant made up an excuse and declined because his wife Julia Dent Grant couldn't stand Mary Todd Lincoln.

The most embarrassing editorial faux pas in presidential history happened when the Washington Post instructed its theatre critic to work in a line or two that President Woodrow Wilson, a widower, was bringing his girlfriend, widow Edith Bolling Galt, to the show. Though the reviewer's initial copy said that the president was distracted from the performance and "spent the evening entertaining Mrs. Galt" the version in the first edition said Wilson spent the evening entering Mrs. Galt, which makes for a different kind of show. Wilson was furious, and refused to believe it was an innocent mistake.

No president is more readily identified with the actor's craft than Ronald Reagan, who was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Actor in "King's Row." In "Pride of the Yankees," he played the character of Grover Cleveland (Alexander, that is). Reagan's first wife, Jane Wyman took home the trophy for "Johnny Belinda." He met his second wife, actress Nancy Davis, when he was president of the Screen Actors Guild and she feared being unfairly blacklisted because she shared the same name as a Hollywood commie. Love bloomed, and a few years later he carried her across the threshold at the Mission Inn in Riverside, the only hotel that lays claim to hosting two presidential wedding nights.

Its other honeymooners-in-chief were the Nixons, who met while castmates in a community theatre in Whittier. Pat Nixon had once had a tiny part in the film "Small Town Girl" with Janet Gaynor. Richard Nixon, a veteran of the high school stage, had decided to join the troupe to make some new friends, and maybe meet someone, well, like Pat. While in law school at Duke, Nixon made a trip to New York trying unsuccessfully to get interviews for Wall Street jobs, and made it a point to attend the opera as well as Broadway shows. Back in Whittier after graduation, he got the lead in "The Night of January 16th" by Ayn Rand, in which he played the district attorney. After losing the gubernatorial election to Pat Brown in 1962, Nixon pulled up stakes and joined the firm Mudge, Stern, Baldwin and Todd in Manhattan. He and Pat were regular fixtures at both the theatre and the opera. His favorite was "Aida."

This year's award show will no doubt be peppered with political asides from the master of ceremonies, the presenters and the winners, as if anyone is really on the edge of their seat wondering where the New York theatre crowd stands on global warming. It is doubtful the president will be watching. But he'll review it on Twitter anyway.