Of shaved heads and bald sopranos: When the White House becomes the theatre of the absurd

Remember that surreal day in WWE history, when Donald Trump – then just a billionaire mogul and television personality — shaved wrestling tycoon Vince McMahon’s head in front of a roaring crowd? It was a piece of theatre so bizarre and exaggerated, one might have mistaken it for an undiscovered Act of Eugène Ionesco’s The Bald Soprano, where nothing is as it seems and language spins in dizzying circles until sense evaporates.

 

Fast-forward to February 28 at the White House: President Trump, flanked by Vice-President JD Vance, once again stepped into a spectacle worthy of absurdist drama. Only this time, instead of brandishing clippers and flattening Vince McMahon’s proud mane, the protagonists and antagonists included Volodymyr Zelensky — former actor, now President of Ukraine — and a grand promise of a minerals deal. The result was no less theatrical than that WWE showdown: barbed exchanges, unserved lunches, and a deal left in tatters. Perhaps no electric razor was involved, but the echoes of The Bald Soprano were deafening enough to make any onlooker’s hair stand on end.

Act I: From rings to the Oval Office

In The Bald Soprano, Ionesco shows how normal conversation quickly devolves into a cacophony of nonsense, revealing the emptiness beneath our carefully scripted dialogues. Similarly, if the WWE stunt exemplified Trump’s flair for over-the-top showmanship, the White House fiasco laid bare the same comedic incongruities – this time with real-world consequences. Viewers watched as Trump, who once gleefully raised an electric shaver to McMahon’s scalp, turned his rhetorical shears on Zelensky, warning him that Ukraine was in no position to demand or dictate terms.

Yet Zelensky, a professional actor who used to entertain viewers in comedic roles, seemed more than willing to spar: his lines about Russia’s broken ceasefires gave the encounter a tragic weight you’d never find in a ring-side scuffle. The unravelling of the meeting felt like a scene that was half political gathering and half performance art, somewhere between a comedic cameo and an existential meltdown.

Act II: The absurd encounter

In absurd theatre, an unremarkable setting like a mundane living room in The Bald Soprano takes on an increasingly incomprehensible life of its own as dialogue spirals. In the White House’s Oval Office, a space typically reserved for measured statesmanship, we instead witnessed comedic uproar that would’ve made Ionesco proud.