Paul Stekler,
co-producer of "Vote For Me: Politics in America"
interviewed by Harry Goldstein and Laurie Ouellette
"On election night, one candidate wins, one loses. Joyous victory speeches mix with tears and sadness. And when there's a blowout, people lose interest. There's a reason why the ratings for the Clinton-Dole debate were so low."
If this year's Presidential race is a predictable melodrama whose last scene is a fait accompli, then maybe it's time you took a look at the politics happening much closer to home, perhaps next door -- maybe in your own living room.
Or on PBS, where "Vote For Me: Politics in America", a four-hour documentary focusing on the intersection of local politics and local culture airs on two consecutive nights -- Monday, October 28, at 9pm and Tuesday, October 29, at 9pm. Following local candidates running for office all over the country, from a young, Irish Republican alderman named Brian Doherty in Chicago to Providence, Rhode Island's pig-kissing, mayor-for-life Buddy Cianci, "Vote For Me" is by turns hilarious and heart-rending as it peers inside the process of what it's like for real people to run for public office.
After a sneak preview in New York, we talked to Paul Stekler, one of the producers of "Vote for Me," about the American political scene and what he learned while making the documentary.
Tripod: How did you first get interested in politics, and how did "Vote for Me" come about?
Paul Stekler: I guess some people are just born political junkies. My first memory of my own political bug showing itself was going out on to a corner near the house I grew up in, in suburban New Jersey in 1960, and stopping people who passed by, pencil and pad in hand, asking them who they were going to vote for in the Kennedy-Nixon presidential election.
Later on, I got a doctorate in political science, taught at Tulane in New Orleans, and made a living as a political consultant in Louisiana, all before starting to do documentaries on politics for PBS full-time.
The original idea for the series came years before we actually started filming. I was walking around downtown Chelsea, Massachusetts, just outside of Boston, on an election day ten years ago. Workers for one of the mayoral campaigns were emptying a bus-load of residents of a nearby retirement home, walking each one to the benches surrounding City Hall, placing large placards on wooden stakes in their hands, balancing each person and their sign, and then walking back to the bus for the next person. Few of the people from the bus, bundled on a crisp New England morning, seemed very aware of being part of a heated election. Their big kelly-green signs read something like 'O'Brien for Mayor' and had prominent shamrocks up and down the borders.
The man coordinating the scene walked around placing green and white tamoshanters bearing the candidate's name on every bare head. I turned to the friend I walking with and said that this could never happen in Louisiana, where I was living at the time. Down in Louisiana, the bus drivers on election day were paid to get voters to the polls, paid by the voter, so there was no time to set up such pretty polling place visuals. The point was that Massachusetts is not Louisiana. Different cultures, different customs, and different politics. And there, visually, was a way to show it. The idea grew in my head that politics as a reflection of America might be a neat way to organize a film.
Several years later, Louis Alvarez, Andrew Kolker and I put this idea to the test, by making a film about the political culture of Louisiana. Our film, "Louisiana Boys: Raised on Politics," was a modest hit on PBS, won a duPont-Columbia Journalism Award, and led public television to let us pursue the same approach -- examining the connection between culture and politics -- in a series about the entire country. And so "Vote for Me: Politics in America" was born.
PS: Well, Americans have always claimed to dislike politics -- finding it too dirty and corrupt -- but they've usually liked the guys they elect. That's why we tend to reelect most incumbents. In our day-to-day lives, elected officials can minister to town needs, essentially fixing the potholes. In the game of what-have-you-done-for-me lately, politics often works for many of us.
And for some of us, its exciting as well. I know that the pundits dislike focusing on the horse race aspect of elections, but Americans like close contests. It's a compelling drama, repeated every election cycle, the kind of story that people immediately understand and are familiar with. There's issues, ideology, passion, lively debate. And there's usually a stirring, emotional conclusion. On election night, one candidate wins, one loses. Joyous victory speeches mix with tears and sadness. And when there's a blowout, people lose interest. There's a reason why the ratings for the Clinton-Dole debate were so low. Nothing much is at stake at this point.
It was important to me to make a film that looked like the politics I'm familiar with. The national media paints a picture of politics that's negative, cynical, overly partisan, ideological, and dour. Most of the people I know who practice politics love their work. If anything, they're addicted to it. It's fun to be part of the game, and that's what we wanted to show.
Tripod: There's a line in the film that says, "In American politics, the great issues of the day take second place to practical issues." Can you explain that? Is that one of the reasons why you focused on state and local politics?
PS: There are people who care very much about the "great" issues as they might be termed in the news. But those issues often pale compared to people's concerns about their own day-to-day lives -- do they have a job, is the streetlight working near their house, does the local school system work well? Many of these 'issues' are local ones and it's local officials who take those calls when the things people take for granted aren't working. Sometimes local politicians are much more interesting characters than national ones. And you don't often see more local politicians on TV. And remember that this series is all about how politics reflects culture, especially local culture.
PS: What's in it for someone running for office? I think it's part schmoozing and part wanting to be a star. Most people who run for office want to accomplish something. They want to be leaders and do good. And they think they're the best person to do just that. So ego is also part of the deal. Ambition is a great motivator in most things, so why not in politics? I think one of the strengths of "Vote for Me" is that you get to walk in the shoes of people who want to run, who do run.
The last eighty-five minutes of night two is the story of a woman who decides to run for Congress, but she has no previous political experience. A local television personality, she answers the call when no one else decides to challenge the powerful incumbent in her western North Carolina district. For the next year, we watch her transformation as she learns the political ropes. In the process, her entire life is changed. As an increasingly bitter contest approaches election day, she faces the ultimate question: will she do whatever it takes to win?
So why does she run? Because she thinks she can make a difference? Because she thinks she'd be the best person to serve? Because she's looking for something new to do with her life? Probably all those things.
Tripod: One of the most surprising things in the film is the length to which local and state candidates will often go to muster votes. I think the film calls this process "retailing votes." What are some examples of that and why does it happen?
PS: Well, to run for office in this country is, in part, to be a performer. You'd better be prepared to throw hay bales at farm fairs or really kiss babies or to knock on a lot of doors belonging to people you've never met -- and who may have other things to do than discuss the upcoming election with a complete stranger. This is hard work, but some people revel in it. Mayor Buddy Cianci of Providence, who is a master at retailing votes, goes as far as kissing a live pig, on camera of course, in our film. And the strange lengths that candidates are willing to go is an important part of "Vote for Me."
PS: If you read your history books, politicians were much less restrained in their attacks on rival candidates a century ago. Political opponents accused Andrew Jackson's mother of being a prostitute and said Jackson was a bigamist (and a lot worse things, too). Back then, newspapers were openly partisan and being "objective" wasn't very important in the press. Believe it or not, we're a whole lot more responsible today. Granted, we don't expect our candidates to be able to debate the great issues for hours, like Abe Lincoln and Stephen Douglas in their famous debates, but the attacks are a lot tamer than they used to be.
Tripod: Do you think TV has had any effect at all on politics in America?
PS: TV has made it easier to get to a mass audience. On the other hand, there are so many channels of entertainment now that people have other options. As Mario Cuomo tells us, in the film, why would people watch the Lincoln-Douglas debates when they could watch wrestling in the mud? Seriously, the medium to deliver the message changes, but the messages stay pretty constant. We tend to prefer folks who portray themselves as average people, kind of non-political and non-partisan. Whether you live in a log cabin in the 1860s or wear a flannel shirt in the 1990s, it's just the way the message is delivered that changes.
Tripod: After spending three years chronicling American politics, what's your general assessment about the workings of democracy? Is the system broken? What could we do differently?
PS: I think Louis Alvarez, Andy Kolker and I have more of an appreciation for the people involved in politics. There are still people out there trying. And going out to film them is a great way to learn about the country. I don't think the system is broken. It may be flawed, but those flaws -- the fact that we tend to vote personalities over issues, that we have divided government, with state and local and national governments controlling different things and making only incremental change possible -- are probably responsible for the long-term stability of our political system. As one guy in the film says, politics is what we Americans do instead of shooting people.
That's not too bad.
