This ain’t The West Wing. In Selina Fillinger’s political farce POTUS, now playing at Herndon’s NextStop Theatre Company, the White House staff are a far wilder bunch than their counterparts on the famous TV show. And the unseen President — well, dumbass is probably too kind a word  — initiates the plot by applying the infamous “c-word” to his wife before a roomful of diplomats. Strictly speaking, only three of the seven women involved are part of the White House staff. It falls to the highly competent, long-suffering Chief of Staff Harriet (Lorraine Magee) — an older woman with what other characters call a “mannish” haircut — to coordinate damage control after the President’s gaffe. She has long been the brains of the political outfit. “Why isn’t she President?” another character asks, a question that is later, and rightfully, asked about some of the other women in the crew as well. Graciela Rey (Dusty) and Sally Imbriano (Jean) in ‘POTUS, Or Behind Every Great Dumbass Are Seven Women Trying to Keep Him Alive.’ Photo by Joseph Edwards Photography. As press secretary, Jean (Sally Imbriano) has the unenviable task of spinning the unspinable. She tries, pointing out, for example, that the President didn’t really say “c**t.” It was actually the adjective form “c**ty,” in case that helps. If responding calmly to crises is an important qualification for working close to the highest official in the land, then the President’s outer office secretary, Stephanie (Rebecca Ballinger), might not be your first choice for the job. A multilingual walking anxiety attack, she is a primary beneficiary of Martin Bernier’s inventive props design, notably a neon-colored inner tube and a flurry of post-it notes. A First Lady is always a presence in a White House. Margaret (Lisa Hall-Corley) has no illusions about her husband. On the other hand, she is very conscious of her own image, which she wants to be that of a woman who is “earthy.” To this end, she tells a reporter, Chris (Bianca Lipford), of her relishing the sight of a bullet from her rifle entering the body of a deer she is hunting. The effect of her statement is highlighted by a well-lit deer head trophy on the wall. Chris — a recently-divorced single mother juggling breast pumps, day care, and journalistic assignments — is the first of three outside agitators to enliven the party. Next is Dusty, a seemingly ditsy, out-there, young woman with an all-too-good reason for her special invitation to meet with the President. Graciela Rey, playing the role, moves wonderfully. She also gives Dusty humorously unexpected moments of political insight. Rebecca Ballinger (Stephanie), Bess Kaye (Bernadette), and Bianca Lipford (Chris) in ‘POTUS, Or Behind Every Great Dumbass Are Seven Women Trying to Keep Him Alive.’ Photo by Joseph Edwards Photography. The septet is completed by the appearance of Bernadette (Bess Kaye), the President’s recently jailed, drug-dealing, lesbian younger sister, who has history with Jean and a determination to get a pardon from her brother. When some of her stash makes its way to Stephanie, the chaos shifts into higher gear, culminating with a first act ending toss offstage of a plaster bust, portending even greater disaster. The play’s subtitle — Behind Every Great Dumbass Are Seven Women Trying to Keep Him Alive — isn’t wholly accurate. The President aside, the seven women each have agendas of their own, and keeping the President actually alive is not their priority as the second act begins. It is at this point, however, that the group coalesces to attack their various interlocking issues together. By play’s end, it is up to Stephanie, of all people, inner tube and all, to avert an international crisis. Under Abigail Isaac Fine’s direction, the play’s one-liners, physical comedy, profanity, raunchiness (not only plentiful sexual references, but as the program warns, simulated vomiting), and satire are quickly, sometimes appropriately frantically, paced, and the cast’s timing is as tight as it must be to make a farce work. This is not the sort of farce that relies overmuch on doors. There are only three, as compared to the 8 to 10 characteristic of a production of, say, Noises Off. However, Jack Golden’s set, suggestive of a White House space though not attempting to replicate it, makes good use of them, and Fine’s blocking also sends actors up the aisles at various points. Imari Pyles’ costuming is a highlight of the production, keenly attuned to each character. Margaret, wanting to look as earthy as possible, wears an earth-tone plum outfit, complemented with ugly green Crocs. Harriet is in a sensible gray pants suit. To look at her, Dusty might have arrived straight from a pop music performance. Bernadette is dressed as badass as you could ask for. And Stephanie loses a good deal of the somewhat disheveled clothing she starts out with. POTUS can fairly be called a screamingly funny show, not only because of its start-to-finish hilarity but because its high-intensity style involves a good deal of screaming. That’s fine in a farce, and it does not obscure the light-touch feminist theme of a disparate collection of women, ultimately working in concert, to overcome male idiocy. Running Time: Approximately one hour and 50 minutes, including one intermission. POTUS, Or Behind Every Great Dumbass Are Seven Women Trying to Keep Him Alive plays through October 20, 2024, at NextStop Theatre Company, located at 269 Sunset Park Drive in Herndon, VA. Tickets, priced at $45 with a $2 convenience fee, are available for purchase online or by calling the box office at 703.481.5930 x2. For more information, email [email protected]. A digital program is available here.