The real occupants of the White House west wing are having to play the roles of their lives. WARREN GAMBLE compares The West Wing's characters with their actual counterparts.
As The West Wing television series resurfaced in New Zealand this week with a special episode on terrorism, the real inhabitants of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue were before the cameras dealing with an even bigger twist - war.
The television episode, panned by many United States critics as too preachy, took creator Aaron Sorkin three weeks to produce after the September 11 terrorist attacks, but already it is a march behind the life it imitates.
Even so, the series has won wide acclaim for its intelligent, albeit idealised, hand-held-camera tour through the corridors of ultimate power.
Some commentators even suggest an American public deluged by information as entertainment ("Did you see the war today?") may confuse the two White Houses, even if subliminally.
During the election last year bumper stickers pushing the show's fictional President Josiah Bartlet (Jeb to his pals), played by Martin Sheen, were out in force - and not always jokingly.
Televised speeches by George Bush and Al Gore attracted three million viewers last October; a West Wing episode two days later drew 17 million.
Dozens of former Washington insiders have been clamouring to advise on the show, and one real-life Capitol Hill politician is said to be poised for a cameo.
The series, which began in 1999, was based on the White House of larger-than-real-life former President Bill Clinton. He had high-profile staff, such as press secretary Dee Dee Meyers, who consults on the West Wing, and adviser James "Rajun Cajun" Carville.
Clinton's telegenic aide George Stephanopolous was the apparent inspiration for 80s heart-throb actor Rob Lowe's West Wing character.
But how do the less flashy Bush players measure up to such fiercely bright, passionate, and lightning-witted characters as communications director Toby Ziegler (the bearded one), press secretary C.J. Cregg, and grizzled chief of staff Leo McGarry?
And, of course, the big guy himself, Sheen's President Bartlet?
In the real-life lead role President George W. Bush has rehabilitated his lacklustre image, which had some commentators predicting a one-term non-wonder.
He still may be no match for the fictional President Bartlet, the tough-but-sensitive leader of the free world, but "Dubya" at least sounded presidential once he gave up calling the terrorists "folks".
His speech to the United States congress last month was regarded by many as a turning point in his presidency, striking the right notes between resolve and reassurance. Its careful scripting helped - two weeks later speaking off the cuff after meeting congressional leaders he gaffed: "We are fully committed to working with both sides to bring the level of terror down to an acceptable level for both."
Compare that to Sheen's cameo in this week's programme, when he told high-school students: "We don't need martyrs right now, we need heroes. A hero would die for his country but he'd much rather live for it."
With less acting material to work with, the real presidential advisers and communicators have the tougher job. They also have a much more powerful influence on the President than it appears.
Ari Fleischer, Andy Card, Karen Hughes and Joshua Bolten are not yet household names, but in this crisis they are emerging from the button-down business-like style of the Bush administration.
Fleischer, the White House press secretary who fronts journalists in the briefing room at a podium with the famous insignia behind him, is no C.J. Cregg. Not to look at anyway. But the balding, bespectacled Fleischer appears more unflappable than the sometimes rattled Cregg, played by Allison Janney.
Washington insiders say Fleischer has an inherently cautious style, not straying far from prepared messages.
Part of that has to do with feeling his way in a job in which one botched answer can have international repercussions.
Aged 40, Fleischer grew up in a Jewish family in a well-to-do New York suburb. His Democrat leanings faded with his antipathy to President Jimmy Carter, and he began his political career on the Republican side.
He ran the media campaign for unsuccessful presidential candidate Elizabeth Dole before being lured across to Bush's campaign.
And he does have some C.J.-esque quick reactions.
The Washington Post asked him how he felt about Clinton press secretary Mike McCurry's famous advice for "telling the truth slowly".
"If I answered that question right away," Fleischer said, "I'd be telling the truth immediately."
Deputy chief of staff Joshua Bolten even has the same first name as his West Wing character Josh Lyman, the supersmart, speed-speaker who lectured students on the value of a pluralistic community this week.
In contrast Bolten is one of the least visible powers behind the Oval Office, but according to the New Republicmagazine his influence is far-reaching.
The son of a CIA operative, he has had a stellar Washington career, with stints at the State Department, a private law firm, the Senate finance committee and in the senior George Bush's White House.
Insiders said he personified the "quiet competency" of the stereotypical Bush aide.
However, the magazine revealed that under his investment banker exterior there lies a funkier side - he rides a Harley and actress Bo Derek is among his friends.
Karen Hughes was Bush's campaign communications director, equivalent to wise-cracking West Wing strategist Toby Ziegler.
She has now moved up to the post of presidential counsellor, a job in which she controls the communications, press secretary and speechwriting offices.
Tall and a self-confessed loud Texan, she is regarded as Bush's closest aide, serving at his side since the start of his political career in 1995 as Texas Governor.
Her west wing office has a view of the private presidential residence. Her boss calls her the "High Prophet", a play on her maiden name Parfitt, and on her sixth sense for what Bush would or should do. Perhaps it also reflects her deep Presbyterian faith.
"My faith teaches me to be very wary about power," she told Reuters. "The Bible is full of stories of people who gained power and lost sight of what was important."
A former television reporter, Hughes moved into political spin in Texas for the 1984 Republican campaign of Ronald Reagan and George Bush sen.
Since the September 11 attacks she has been an influential shaper of the President's public messages, the initially faltering response on the night of the attacks, but peaking with the key speech to Congress.
In a detailed examination of how the speech was formed, New York Times correspondent D.T. Max said Hughes made the initial notes for Bush at the White House on the Sunday, four days before its delivery.
She jotted down: Who are they? Why they hate us? What victory means? How will it be won?
The President wanted a draft by 7 pm, a nearly impossible ask.
But in scenes that could be used in a West Wing episode, three speechwriters, led by Michael Gerson, held a brainstorming session fuelled by patriotism and meals and coffee from the White House mess.
Gerson, aged 37, is possibly the nearest Bush equivalent to Rob Lowe's Sam Seaborn. He has his own west wing office and shares the President's devout Christianity.
He and his writing colleagues met the deadline, but the draft was just the beginning. Hughes suggested changes to tune it to the President's sparer style and made additions to reach a wider audience such as: "Al Qaeda is to terror what the Mafia is to crime."
Hughes also coached the President during rehearsals before he went in front of the world.
Hughes, the highest-ranking female aide to a modern President, has also been in the news this week for a behind-the-scenes glimpse at how last weekend's decision to send in the bombers was made.
As critics have noted this "tick-tock" insight into closed-door events is always positive. But as Hughes told the Washington Post: "I feel that I have a duty to let people know the things that I know about him, which are good things. I'm sure there are plenty of people who are available to criticise. That's not my role."
What is part of her role is to spend as much time as possible with her 14-year-old son, whom she tutored on the campaign trail. The 44-year-old usually works a 12-hour day but finishes early, at 5.30 pm on Wednesdays, to have a "midweek moment" with her son.
With Bush's fixation on efficiency - he insists all staff have to be on time for meetings - and family life, she rarely comes in at weekends. The change from working all the hours God sends is also influenced by the record number of women in senior positions - eight of the 20 top Bush aides who meet each morning.
Those meetings are convened by the White House chief of staff Andrew Card, who stops them at precisely 7.58 am to make an 8 am meeting with Bush.
Like his television counterpart Leo McGarry played by John Spencer, Card has a long association with the President.
In 1980 he was a part-time driver for Bush's father in his first unsuccessful bid for the Republican Party's presidential nomination.
He became the elder Bush's deputy chief of staff in 1988, and was tapped by the younger Bush after helping him during last year's campaign.
Described by Republican officials as a "perfect fit" for the President, he is also seen as a nice guy by Democrats.
In recent weeks the 53-year-old has been seen on television footage a few steps behind the President.
He surprised some commentators with his assessment of Bush's handling of the terrorist crisis.
"His intellectual capacity is exceeding all expectations," Card told a television news anchor.
Josiah Bartlet would not have been impressed.
Did you see the war today?
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