By Nelson Pressley
Special to The Washington Post
Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Delight takes hold immediately in Round House Theatre's "Nixon's Nixon" as a familiar scowling figure air-conducts Tchaikovsky with physical abandon. The arms pump and the jowls flap, but nobody's there to follow his emphatic cues. It's the eve of his resignation, and Richard Nixon -- statesman, scoundrel and everything in between -- is alone.

It's a magnificent, side-splitting image, and one that aptly sets the stage for a fascinating satire of a man losing control as he's, well, losing control.

In Russell Lees's fantasized version of Nixon's final hours in office, the president has a co-conspirator in Henry Kissinger, who interrupts the musical reverie. Together, downing brandies and reminiscing about their wars and peace talks, they grope for an exit strategy.

The acting is a joy, not least because the characters are recognizable in an instant. As Nixon, Edward Gero has the hairline, the creased cheeks, the uncomfortable way in a suit -- his shoulders always seem to be bunching up. Conrad Feininger, dapper in a tux and with a high shine on his shoes, nails Kissinger's deep, thick, German-accented voice.

With that they're off, and though parody isn't the whole point, it gives the show a terrific liftoff. There is no shortage of abuse-of-power jokes: "Executive privilege up the wazoo!" Nixon crows as the men talk a scenario through to the getaway point. Lees revels in the language of farce, pushing Nixon's documented penchant for profanity to epic heights (aided by Gero's inventively soulful deliveries) and keeping the president ever-ready with an ethnic slur.

The banter is fast, and best of all is this Nixon's affinity for spur-of-the-moment theatrical games. The Moscow Summit? Nixon pretends to be Leonid Brezhnev while Kissinger plays Nixon, and the layering inspires lampoon-scaled acting and pointed punch lines. Golda Meir, Mao Zedong and JFK come in for impersonations, too, as Nixon scours his career for inspiration and psychic balm.

Although the 85-minute play is often irreverent and funny enough to double you over, it also conjures some sympathy for this devil. Nixon and Kissinger are nothing if not savvy, and as they analyze how they got into this mess -- not the grubby details of Watergate, but the Big Picture -- their diagnosis of the never-ending playacting in American politics hits a number of home truths.

"There's no backstage," Nixon says soberly. "The mask gets stuck."

Gero and Feininger have been down this road before, playing "Nixon's Nixon" 10 years ago when Round House was in a smaller space. (Interestingly, New York's MCC Theater recently gave its own hit production a 10th-anniversary revival, too.) This bigger stage, which set designer James Kronzer fills with a slightly hot-colored rendition of the Lincoln Sitting Room, helps amplify the undercurrent of gravitas that director Jerry Whiddon rides with Feininger and Gero. There is a twisted greatness to this reckoning, a certain height from which to fall.

But for the most part, "Nixon's Nixon" thrives on the brazen vulgarity that increasingly seems stuck to the nation's highest office, something David Mamet makes hay with in his deliriously profane Broadway comedy "November." Nixon has become an uncommonly fruitful figure onstage -- excessive, comically self-absorbed and dangerously adept, both here and in the recent "Frost/Nixon."

For Gero, it's a blast. With Feininger's gleeful, graceful help, he capers into the caverns of the Nixonian mind -- spidery, treacherous and dreadfully entertaining.

Nixon's Nixon, by Russell Lees. Directed by Jerry Whiddon. Costumes, Rosemary Pardee; lighting, Martha Mountain; sound, Matthew M. Nielson. Through June 22 at Round House Theatre, 4545 East-West Hwy., Bethesda. Call 240-644-1100 or visit http://www.roundhousetheatre.org.