Donald Trump as Evita Peron…there’s something in this. Could his deranged supervillain profile translate down the road into some kind of grandiose tragic figure in a film, play, musical drama or opera? Sure, maybe, but who would want to see it? He’s too much of a grotesque figure — too bloated, too corrupt, too much of a hatemonger, too much in the grip of demented fantasy and rancid delusion — to be portrayed in any kind of half-sympathetic terms.
There’s obviously a Nixon-like movie in Trump’s saga, and I’m guessing such a film (which Oliver Stone might not be interested in making) could be morbidly fascinating. But we’re all watching this movie unfold right now. Almost every ghastly detail is out in the open, and those that aren’t are being speculated or imagined six ways from Sunday.