Exploring Disability and Presidential Legacy in 'FDR's Very Happy Hour'

Franklin Delano Roosevelt holds a unique place in American presidential history, characterized by a multitude of defining attributes rather than a singular incident. His legacy encompasses the New Deal, World War II, and personal symbols like the iconic wheelchair and ivory cigarette holder. However, his disability, caused by polio in his thirties, remains a profound aspect of how he is remembered, despite his efforts to mitigate its visibility.

Regan Linton, who stars in the new interactive production FDR’s Very Happy Hour, co-created the show with director M. Graham Smith to cast Roosevelt in a different light. "Friends of mine from the disability community are like, ‘I hate FDR,’" Linton remarked, reflecting the mixed feelings about Roosevelt's disability and openness. Linton aims to shift the narrative by presenting a disabled role model, drawing on Roosevelt’s vibrant persona and tumultuous life to create an engaging experience. The show features interactive elements, encouraging audience participation in discussions about civic challenges, all while enjoying complimentary drinks, including mocktails.

Smith emphasized the importance of accessibility in creating immersive experiences, stating, “I had seen performances where disability was a feature of the creative team, but not as deeply thought about in terms of how the audience would experience the show.” This focus on access serves as a gateway to engagement, with Linton embodying Roosevelt's skills in crowd work. Smith noted, “Seeing Regan do this show for different audiences has been exhilarating; her improvisation with audience members brings out additional facets of FDR's character.”

Setting the show apart is its collage-like structure, which includes scenes featuring historical figures like James Madison and ecological mascots like Smokey the Bear, alongside Linton’s portrayal of Eleanor Roosevelt, all played by the talented Deaf performer Alexandra Wailes. This diverse casting and narrative approach distinguish FDR’s Very Happy Hour from traditional presidential one-person shows, such as those focused on Teddy Roosevelt or Richard Nixon.

Linton's exploration of disability informs her interpretation of Roosevelt, as she emphasizes understanding disability as a cultural experience rather than merely a circumstance. “In theatre, currently and historically, there’s not a comprehensive understanding of disability as not just a circumstance, or a prop, or a costume piece,” Linton stated, relating her personal experiences to FDR’s challenges. While his policies weren't exclusively beneficial for the disabled, his leadership advanced care for disabled veterans during World War II and fostered empathy shaped by his own conditions.

A notable aspect of the show is its acknowledgment of difficult subjects, including Executive Order 9066, which led to the internment of Japanese Americans. The production doesn't shy away from confronting this dark chapter; an interactive segment invites the audience to pen their “complicated truths” about personal struggles, contributing to a shared understanding of vulnerability. Unlike more conventional audience interactions, these submissions are kept anonymous, displayed outside the performance area to respect the intimacy of the shared experiences.

“There have been some remarkable and vulnerable revelations,” Linton shared, recounting profound audience contributions, including confessions from individuals dealing with personal hardships or life-changing decisions. This immersive approach invites participants to explore emotional depths, challenging conventional narratives surrounding political leaders. In a poignant twist, Linton mused on the irony of a disabled president facilitating such disclosures—not as a means to control but as a way to celebrate vulnerability.

True, FDR's public persona didn't encapsulate this level of emotional openness, and contemporary leaders seem far off from encouraging such candid expressions. Yet, in theater, there's an opportunity to envision a world where empathy and connection flourish beyond performance. As Linton provocatively asks, “Can we drink to that?”—hinting at both a toast to the past and optimism for a more inclusive future.

Rob Weinert-Kendt is editor-in-chief of American Theatre.