"The following is based on a true story," reads White House Plumbers' opening title. "No names have been changed to protect the innocent, because nearly everyone was found guilty."
Cut to the exterior of the Watergate office building in Washington, D.C., where a line of briefcase-bearing men in sharp suits prepare to execute what they think is a brilliant, foolproof plan to break into the Democratic National Committee. Minutes later, that plan is foiled not by law enforcement, but by the fact that the team's lockpicker left his tools at home... in Miami.
So ends the second of four Watergate break-in attempts, and so begins the chaos of HBO's White House Plumbers.
White House Plumbers delves deep into Watergate.
Over the course of its five episodes, White House Plumbers dramatizes each of these break-in attempts, as well as the build-up to and fall-out from the Watergate scandal. These events were depicted on TV as recently as 2022, with Starz's miniseries Gaslit. However, White House Plumbers focuses on two key figures of the scandal: E. Howard Hunt (Woody Harrelson) and G. Gordon Liddy (Justin Theroux). Called "plumbers" because their purpose was to stop leaks coming from the White House, Hunt and Liddy planned to bug and burgle the DNC headquarters — a plan which led to President Richard Nixon's resignation. Whoops.
It's a story that's almost too crazy to believe, and White House Plumbers treats it as such. The show blends humor and bumbling political incompetence in a way that will recall HBO's brilliant Veep. (David Mandel, who served as Veep's showrunner for Seasons 5 through 7, directed the entirety of White House Plumbers.)
However, Veep this is not. Where Veep was a tightly-written satire of American politics, White House Plumbers struggles with bloat and tonal dissonance. At its funniest, admittedly, it's a riot — but the belly laughs come between slogs of awkward exposition, underdeveloped Hunt family drama, and scenes that always go on a tad too long. It's a shame given the hilarity of its break-in opening, which promises a comedic subversion of a spy caper. Sadly, that promise is only fulfilled in a few inspired bits of frenetic physical comedy throughout the saga, leaving us to focus less on the writing and more on the show's strangest performance.
Is Justin Theroux's turn as G. Gordon Liddy brilliant or just bizarre?
White House Plumbers rests on the shoulders of Harrelson and Theroux, whose performances couldn't be more different from each other. As Hunt, Harrelson puts on a raspier voice and complains about the "radical left," but the show grounds him more in reality as he and his wife Dorothy (Lena Headey, wonderful here) deal with familial troubles.
Theroux's Liddy, by contrast, is as close to a living cartoon as you can get. (Theroux has described Liddy as similar to a cartoon character.) The man holds his hand over candle flames to prove his commitment to the Republican cause. His hair and mustache look like they've been triple-coated in black lacquer. He plays Hitler speeches for dinner guests. In a show full of mad characters, he's the maddest by far.
But the madness quickly becomes distracting the more you watch — or more importantly, listen — to Theroux. And I'm not talking about the ridiculous conservative rhetoric Liddy spouts. I'm talking about his voice, which is reminiscent of a 1940s gumshoe fond of over-enunciating every last syllable. In a series where most actors are doing more neutral voice work, Liddy's bizarro tone sticks out like a foghorn.
Over the course of the show, I couldn't completely decide whether I liked or loathed Theroux's choices. As a historical figure, Liddy was quite a character, with behavior definitely warranting this level of near-caricature. But does White House Plumbers' take on Liddy overly distract from the rest of the miniseries? Or would I have enjoyed it more if everyone were closer to Theroux's level of bananas? (I certainly would have enjoyed it more if it had given Judy Greer more to do as Liddy's wife Frances.) By the start of White House Plumbers, I was definitely pro this version of Liddy. By the end, I found myself tiring more and more.
My confusion over Theroux extends to White House Plumbers in general. Perhaps it would be more enjoyable had it leaned further into screwball territory — or further into seriousness. Instead, it finds itself caught in between, with the best of neither.
White House Plumbers airs May 1 at 9 p.m. ET on HBO and HBO Max, with new episodes weekly.
