Though he’s never attended it while in office, Donald Trump is arguably the American president most closely associated with the White House Correspondents’ Dinner.
Consider the legend: it was after some ribbing by Seth Meyers and President Barack Obama at the 2011 dinner that the then-host of NBC’s Celebrity Apprentice, who at that time was pushing the so-called “birther” conspiracy, was supposedly embarrassed into seeking the country’s highest office. “I think that is the night he resolves to run for president,” longtime Trump advisor Roger Stone once told PBS.
While that was Trump’s last time attending, his shadow has loomed large over the dinner in the years since—perhaps never more so than this year, when the White House Correspondents Association, itself under attack by Trump’s White House, decided to disinvite featured entertainer Amber Ruffin after she indicated that she intended to be critical of Trump.
It’s enough to make one nostalgic for Trump’s first year in office, when on April 29, 2017, not only did the WHCD feature its own very funny featured entertainer in The Daily Show’s Hasan Minhaj, but Samantha Bee, then mere months into her new TBS late night show, Full Frontal, decided to host a shadow White House Correspondents’ Dinner of her own. The decision came even before Trump himself declared he would not attend the actual affair.
Bee’s Not the White House Correspondents’ Dinner aired on TBS at the same time as the actual dinner. It even featured a post-show on the social media platform formerly known as Twitter.
The hour-long production begins with Allison Janney reprising her role as C.J. Cregg from The West Wing, standing behind the podium in the White House briefing room, taking questions about Bee’s decision to organize such an event.
A hooded figure who identifies himself as part of the Protocols of the Elders of Zion asks why Bee has not “commented on the allegations that she’s a witch.” Janney brushes aside the question, only to return to it at the end of the press conference. “Yes, of course she’s a witch,” Janney declares. “We’re all witches!” Her eyes then turn into laser beams and she zaps the racist dude away.
From Janney’s pre-taped bit, we cut to the live crowd of 2,500 assembled at DAR Constitution Hall in Washington D.C. The show’s elaborate set puts the trappings of the D.C. Hilton (the longtime host of the WHCD, and frequent subject of barbs at the event) to shame. The band Peaches performs the Full Frontal theme song, “Boys Wanna Be Her,” as Bee comes out to cheers. To watch the special today is to witness something that’s largely absent from late night today: elaborate, well-funded programming—or, to put it another way, fully committing to the bit.
In her monologue, Bee notes that the evening will feature a cash bar, but—not to worry—she assures that she will find a way to “get Mexico to pay for all of your drinks.” She then turns to a table in the front row, at which are seated members of the Committee to Protect Journalists. “These are the guys you call if you leave the hall tonight and discover your car has been keyed by Sean Spicer,” Bee says. (The event went on to raise $200,000 for the organization.)
Viewed in 2024, the special captures a certain spirit of those early months of the Trump years: an anger at the mainstream press and the forces that be (it features a roast of then CNN-head Jeff Zucker, for example), fear for what was to come, and a bit of genuine optimism for the fight ahead. The original nature of the special itself oozes a certain kind of excitement that was common in those years: perhaps this is a time to build anew—to start new traditions.
Bee is ultimately joined by litany of familiar faces roasting Trump and the then-current moment. Will Ferrell reprises his George W. Bush impersonation, and there’s news segment on “alternative facts” featuring expert commentary from folks like facts scientist Steve Buscemi. Bee herself headlines a hilarious short film in which she roasts presidents “through the years.” Her roast of Woodrow Wilson, for example, takes the form of a silent film, with her jokes only coming through inter-titles. “I would love to tell more jokes about the president,” the card reads, “but it’s a violation of the Sedition Act.” Sound familiar?
Such is the experience of watching the special today, at least for those of Bee’s political persuasion: it comes with many tough pills to swallow. Institutions failed. Few lived up to the moment. Optimism is diminished. And here we are, in a situation that feels bleaker in almost every way, including for comedy. Not only is there no featured comedian at the 2025 White House Correspondents Dinner, but it’s difficult to imagine TBS or any other terrestrial TV outlet putting even a fraction of the capital that went into this one for a comparable event. (Bee even had the chance to reprise it rwo years later.)
One of the 2017 special’s best, most prophetic bits was actually cut for time but released online. In it, Bee and her TBS colleague Andy Richter act out an All The President’s Men spoof, with Richter playing the role of Deep Throat. Richter gives Bee, playing the role of Woodward and Bernstein, the inside scoop on Trump’s ties to Russia: cut to a man the next day opening his newspaper. He glances at the front page and says, “Holy sh*t! A high of seventy-six!” He then tosses the paper, with the unread lead headline “RUSSIA SCANDAL” in the trash. “Honey, we’re having a picnic!”
Somehow, the special’s truthiness, to quote a famous philosopher, feels even stronger today.
Samantha Bee’s NOT the White House Correspondents’ Dinner is available for purchase on Prime Video. It can also be viewed in clip form in a free YouTube playlist.
It’s a shame her show was cancelled, while the ever despicable Bunghole Bill Maher still has his! She was the only one who went after Bernie the Bum Sanders, while her late night comrades were busy licking his unwiped taint!