Yes, Clint Eastwood’s little Drama 201-level Improv Theatre of the Absurd workshop appeared to flop, all right. Mainly because the audience couldn’t figure out that it was a comedy sketch, not a rhetorical speech. But at least Eastwood is an admitted actor, unlike all the pinwheels fluttering about him.
Clint’s performance revealed that he is more of an L. Ron Paulista than a waif in need of Mitten cuddling (e.g. Mitt would actually bring the troops home (???) and other prevarications…). It was viewed by most, and some who should have known better, as an Alzheimerian ramble, a sign of heroic Harry’s dribbling twilight to come. But since few in America except the Gays take a Drama course anymore, such attempts at art are considered ‘over the top’, ‘WTF’ or some other bland write-off analysis.
Verdict on Clint’s ‘Interview With B.H. Obama, In The Ionesco Style’: half-baked, silly content, weakly delivered. Don Rickles would’ve pulled it off with more flair. But at least two people in the audience got a kick out of it: Clint’s 146 year-old mom – and me.
(Excerpted from The New York Times Drama section's review of my two-volume treatise: 'The Absurdist Performances of Clint Eastwood: Berlin 1926 to Tampa 2012' (HarperCollins) )