What Kind of Actress Is Hillary Clinton?

I've been following the backwards and forwards surrounding Hillary Clinton's "breakdown" at a New Hampshire diner on January 7 with a mixture of fascination and irritation.

Discussions about whether Clinton's emotion that day was genuine or not have taken up a great deal of space in the last few days. Some people are debating whether she shed tears or simply lost her composure for a second. Others are wondering whether the display, whatever it was, came from a real place inside her or was merely a calculated performance. Others still are holding Clinton's behavior, genuine or otherwise, responsible for winning her the New Hampshire Primary. The most cynical commentators are wondering whethe the moment in the diner will set a precedent among candidates going forwards for reaching for drama at any opportunity in order to steal votes. As one commentator on Blog Critics put it:

On the positive side, maybe her payoff for a high-risk move will inspire other candidates. If we don't get serious ideas from the candidates we can at least get some entertainment value. Maybe John McCain will have a torture flashback, or Huckabee will have to struggle with sudden weight gain, or Giuliani will have a teary reconciliation with his estranged kids, or Obama will get pulled over for DWB, or Ron Paul will find aliens flying his blimp. There are so many cheap, attention-grabbing possibilities. Now that Hillary has opened the door, what's to stop all of the rest of the candidates from charging on through.

The sheer amount of time devoted to the incident in the New Hampshire diner appalls me in many ways. It seems so trivial. Yet I've decided to add yet another voice to the clamoring din in an effort to understand what it is that people were really responding to when they watched Clinton's voice falter and face crumple like a used tissue that day. How was Hillary connecting (or failing to connect) with her audience?

What's interesting about the video footage is that Clinton's body and voice seem to be doing completely different things which, unsurprisingly, send out very mixed signals to viewers.

The first time I watched the video clip, I deliberately did so with the volume off. I couldn't understand why people said that Clinton was crying. There are no signs of that level of emotion in her body. She appears tired and deflated, but definitely not on the verge of tears. Not even close. In silence, she seems composed and appears to be talking about issues, not providing personal insights. Yet there's something very candid about the way she rests her hand on her chin. Her shoulders heave, like she's sighing. She shakes her head and allows weak smiles to flick across her face.

If you listen to her words, though, they sound very forthright. There's an emphasis in them that feels natural yet full of conviction. The body and the words are at odds. Suddenly, though, Cilnton's cadence wavers. It's a tiny moment. It would be barely noticeable but for the fact that the opposition between what we see and what we hear has been so pronounced up to this point, that the sudden alignment of word and action cause a floodgate to open. A crack becomes a chasm and in the blink of an eye, Clinton goes from being the "Iron Maiden" to a "real woman."

The effect is remarkable. The sudden synchcronization of body and voice is so subtle, so beautifully timed, that I find it hard to believe that it was intentional. I just don't think anyone -- even the finest professional actor -- is capable of doing this kind of thing on purpose. Politicians don't even know when they're performing sometimes.

Here's what we can take away from the experience:

1) Politicians can create theatre without even realizing it.
2) The best way to learn about a politician is to turn the sound down on them.