Proximity and passion for politics are part of the culture of The George Washington University student body. GW topped the list of schools that produce congressional staffers, according to data compiled by LegBranch. If you go out to a trivia night, be sure to know your current events, and if you’re at a party with friends, be ready for a gossip session about the “political and economic state of the world right now.” Last night, a trivia question asked, “What liquid did Ilhan Omar got sprayed with at a Minneapolis town hall?” My entire table got it right. So, it makes sense that if you’re a GW student interested in politics, at some point someone will tell you to watch Veep.
VEEP is an American political satire comedy television series that aired on HBO from April 22, 2012, to May 12, 2019. The series follows Selina Meyer (Julia Louis-Dreyfus), the fictional Vice President of the United States, and her team as they attempt to make their mark and leave a legacy, but often instead become mired in day-to-day political games.
The show has gotten plenty of attention years after its season finale in 2019. The Guardian called it “the most influential political satire of this era.” CBS News reported viewership soared 350% after Biden endorsed Kamala Harris. Julia Louis-Dreyfus told the New York Post that Harris was “getting a kick out of” the resurgence.
But while its connection to Kamala’s campaign has been covered tremendously, there’s been little written about how Veep has become part of young D.C. Hill intern culture—providing comedic relief to the everyday reality of life on the Hill. Through interviews with Hill interns (AKA Hilterns) and my own experience, I’ve come to see the show as striking the right balance of absurdity and relatability.
Ethan Curl, a Hiltern I connected with through a massive GroupMe with hundreds of interns on the Hill, says the show captures both realism and exaggeration. “It makes some parts feel more relatable and others more dramatic,” he says. “Everyone has two phones and is constantly losing them—but there’s less yelling. At least in my office.” Jillian Sylvester, a previous Hiltern and one of my best friends from GW notes, “I think an almost daily parallel between the show and the Hill is how much staff talk about ridiculous things other politicians wear.”
What Ethan and Jillian are hinting at is how Veep deglamorizes the Hill. The show humorously portrays people scrambling around, cursing, losing their phones, obsessing over outfits, making stupid mistakes, and stumbling into both small and massive scandals.
Before my congressional internship on Capitol Hill, I viewed Capitol Hill as a place for statesmen—where only the smartest people could work. Where politicians I admired roamed the halls making decisions that shaped the nation. The politicians I didn’t admire, I thought of them as either smart individuals I simply disagreed with or morally corrupt geniuses. Either way, they were above me. Unrelatable. My time there quickly disabused me of that notion. Veep so humorously portrays how untrue this vision I had was, and makes the Hill feel less marble. What I love is how they use the camera to point this out. They take camera shots of the Capitol, the beautiful building, the formal event, the motorcade, then dive in on Selina having an accident during a press event.
Jillian brings a unique and interesting perspective. “Politics can feel really cut and dry,” she says, “so Veep shows what it’s like to be an insider and hear the things we imagine are said behind closed doors. Selina is nice to politicians and constituents to their face, but as soon as she walks away, she’ll make a crude remark about them.”
She continues, “I can relate to a lot of the humor people like Mike have, and of course, I can relate to Kent because he’s on the data side of politics” (Jillian is a data science major) — “which I see myself working in at some point.”
I agree with Jillian completely. I loved feeling like an insider during my time on the Hill — but I’d never want to actually be one of those characters. The staff I worked with were nothing like the show’s caricatures. What made the show so entertaining was the unbelievable scenarios that felt just real enough. Extreme issues such as Selina’s sex scandal with a personal trainer who publishes hate speech about overweight people, or Dan secretly trying to slip legislation passed the president. These insane scandals make me wonder, what if this happened in my office? They’d never handle it that way, of course, but maybe another office would.
My friend Craig Blatte, a senior at GW and former Hill intern, assumed Veep was hyperbolic. “At first, I thought it was only loosely based on reality,” he says. “From my limited time on the Hill and working on campaigns, I realized it’s actually very accurate. Some moments or characters are exaggerated, but by and large, I find the stories and crazy plot twists very plausible.”
Craig’s point is clearly demonstrated in season two, episode three. The episode starts with Dan adding the word “robust” to Selina’s speech regarding the government’s response to a hostage crisis. The office loves it: “It’s what you want to hear in a hostage crisis.” Then Sue, the scheduler, accidentally uses it at a hearing where she was just supposed to “act dull” according to Selina — and suddenly it’s a news cycle. “VP sister act, rebutting the moves.” “Robusted. It’s Washington Wordshare.” Veep predicted reality; that same year (2014), the BBC named “robust” “the buzzword of politicians and one of the most overused words of the year, and it kept popping up in the 2016 campaign.
Veep ingeniously comes up with different scenarios each episode. Some that could definitely happen in real life, others that are more of a stretch. Hill interns have a unique appreciation for these because we sit in this sweet spot: we know enough about the Hill for it to feel real, but not enough about what happens behind closed doors to know where the show ends and reality begin.
That gap is what makes it so much funnier and what makes Veep a GW classic.
Featured image/photo by Harold Mendoza on Unsplash.