Seldom has a director’s note more aptly captured a character than Jen Katz’s calling Charles Whitmore — the central figure in Jason Odell Williams’ Church and State, now playing at Silver Spring Stage — a “Bartlett-esque” politician. Like the President in the beloved The West Wing series, Whitmore is an aspirational figure, a vision of what an elected official driven by conscience rather than expediency might look like in an alternate political universe less cruel than our own. Whitmore (Hart Wood) is an incumbent Senator from North Carolina, a moderate Republican (remember those?) running in a close race for re-election. His sons have just escaped a Newtown-like school shooting. He is preparing to deliver his standard stump speech — the sort his conservative constituents like, full of praise for God and the Second Amendment — but he has doubts. How can one believe in a benevolent God in a world in which someone with an AR-15 can walk into an elementary school and murder 29 children? How can a lawmaker in such a world not support some at least modest gun control measures? Hart Wood as Senator Charles Whitmore and Juanisha Brooks as his wife, Sara, in ‘Church and State.’ Photo by Kelsi Friend. Unfortunately, he has expressed his doubts to a political blogger (John Elmendorf), whose posts threaten to go viral. Worse yet, Whitmore is contemplating going off script to double down on his heresies in public. This horrifies the two most important people in Whitmore’s life: his wife, Sara (Juanisha Brooks), and his highly energetic campaign manager, Alex Klein (Whitney Johnson). Both women are ambitious, not only for Whitmore but for themselves. Sara, written as a Southern lady stereotype and played as such by Brooks in a sometimes over-the-top fashion (especially her drunken scene at the beginning of the second act), loves being the wife of a prominent man, albeit one she can control. She comments that while her husband may wear the pants of the family, she chooses the pants. Her best moment comes at the end of the play when, following the shocking but thoroughly unsurprising climax of the plot, she becomes a serious advocate for legislation to address gun violence. Alex is no less a stereotype. A harried, frenetic New York Jewish liberal running the campaign of a Southern Republican conservative, she envisions herself as the key staffer of someone who might someday become President. Lest anyone miss the West Wing vibe of the play, Alex mentions a fantasy of working alongside Allison Janney (who played President Bartlett’s press secretary in the series). The script and the actors’ performances give Sara and Alex the opportunity to explore their differences and find some common emotional ground, in scenes that play effectively and with increasingly warm humor. Hart Wood as Senator Charles Whitmore, Juanisha Brooks as Sara Whitmore, and Whitney Johnson as Alex Klein in ‘Church and State.’ Photo by Kelsi Friend. In Wood’s performance, Whitmore is the play’s most balanced and nuanced character. While crystallized by the school shooting, his doubts about not only God and guns but his marriage and role as a Senator have been growing for some time, and he has given himself time consider what those doubts mean for him. Whitmore doubts even his doubts. In the second act, after a sudden, unexpected (and, in the real political world, utterly unrealistic) bump in election results from his off-script speech, he contemplates walking back his comments, while Sara and Alex, in an ironic reversal of their first-act positions, urge him to stay the course. All this makes Whitmore a rather endearing character, with whose vulnerability and passionate response to the terrible events at his local school an audience can readily empathize. The play’s setting (credited to Katz and Stephen Leshin) is bare bones, with a sofa, chair, and refreshments table representing the backstage area of a venue where Whitmore is about to speak. What the play has to say about gun violence retains its validity: apathy is a four-letter word; thoughts and prayers for victims are meaningless in the absence of action to prevent future tragedies, which have continued unabated since the play’s 2016 off-Broadway opening. But earnest and well-meaning advocacy, even for positions with which most people in the audience would readily agree, does not necessarily make for a compelling theater piece. Running Time: 90 minutes, including one intermission. Church and State plays through September 29, 2024 (Fridays and Saturdays at 8 pm, and Sundays at 2 pm), at Silver Spring Stage, 10145 Colesville Road, Silver Spring, MD. Purchase tickets ($23.75–$26.75 including fees) at the door or online. For more information call (301) 593-6036, visit the website, or email [email protected]. COVID Safety: Masks are encouraged but not required.