On March 20th, 2022, comedian Amy Schumer said she wanted Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelenskyy to come to the Oscars. She was one of three hosts slated to host the show, and had apparently pushed for a Zelenskyy appearance behind the scenes. “I wanted to find a way to have Zelenskyy satellite in or make a tape or something just because there are so many eyes on the Oscars,” Schumer said in an appearance on the Drew Barrymore Show. She wasn’t alone in wanting this. Actor Sean Penn said the Academy Awards should be boycotted, and vowed to “smelt [my Oscar] in public” if Zelenskyy wouldn’t be allowed to appear. Zelenskyy didn’t come to the awards show, and so far Penn hasn't followed through on his vow. Yet the push to bring Ukraine’s president to Hollywood says a lot about how we view both Zelenskyy, and anyone who happens to wander into the public eye.

For many Americans, the name Zelenskyy meant nothing prior to the Russian invasion of Ukraine. However, for Ukrainians, Zelenskyy has been a household name since the early 2010’s. He rose to fame not as a politician, but as an actor, starring in rom-coms like Love In The Big City (2009), and [sic] Office Romance. Our Time (2011). He was even the Ukrainian voice of Paddington Bear. His big break came in 2015, when he played a high school teacher suddenly elected as the president of Ukraine in the political comedy show, Servant of the People. The series was massively popular, running until 2019, leading to a film adaptation  in 2016, and the creation of a political party named for the show in 2018. Hulu even ordered an American remake, though it was scrapped when Donald Trump was elected president. 

The actor-turned-politician is nothing new. Ronald Reagan had a radio, film, and television career before he became president in 1967. One of the films he starred in, Kings Row, earned an Oscar nomination for Best Picture. Still–Reagan never played a president, and he’s hardly known as an actor now. Zelenskyy’s acting played a crucial role in his election. His character is an anti-corruption figure who fights the big bad bureaucrats. Zelenskyy’s real life rise to power came in the midst of a Ukrainian political rebellion, where Zelenskyy’s lack of a political background, and thus lack of ties to a corrupt establishment, became an asset. He won with a little over half the vote, but was reelected with 70%. The political party named after his breakout show is now the one he belongs to. 

If you were to ask an American what they associate Zelenskyy with, they likely wouldn't say Servant of the People. They think of his oft-worn green T-shirt, that The Independent wrote an entire article on. (It opens with: “there could barely be a simpler outfit.”) They think of the viral photo of him placing flowers at his Nazi-fighting grandfather’s grave–he is the country’s first Jewish president. Zelenskyy’s approval rate before Russia’s invasion was at a dismal 31%, but in March it surged to 90%. According to a Washington Post survey, he now rests at a comfortable 71%, higher than President Biden’s rate of 48%. Praise for Zelenskyy has become the rare bipartisan American issue: while Democrats are most positive with an 83% approval rate, conservatives like him too, with 78%.

Most of all, people think of Zelenskyy’s impassioned speeches. Some are addressed to Congress, others to Russian citizens forbidden from listening.  Dan Balz wrote: “There has never been a speech to Congress by a foreign leader quite like the one Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy delivered on Wednesday.” While he spoke in Ukrainian during the rest of the speech, aided by a translator, he switched to English for his closing remarks. Addressing President Biden directly, Zelenskyy said: “You are the leader of your great nation. I wish you to be the leader of the world. Being the leader of the world means to be the leader of peace.”

This moment, and many others, have echoed across social media. Zelenskyy’s Instagram account, @zelenskiy_official, has nearly seventeen million followers, and his Twitter account, @ZelenskyyUa, has over six million followers. Tweets from his account, as well as tweets about the president, frequently go viral. Twitter user @salisbot wrote, “BREAKING: every woman in your life now has at least a small crush on Volodymyr Zelenskyy, and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it” and gained over 100,000 likes. On Etsy, you can buy a mug of Zelenskyy’s face surrounded by hearts, or a replica of his oft-worn green T-shirt. On the subreddit r/nextf***inglevel, a video of Zelenskyy learning about the bombing of Babyn Yar Holocaust memorial for the first time has almost 30,000 upvotes. The top comment reads, [sic] “God, Mary, Jesus, protect this man. Humans need to see good prevail.”

Of course, it all circles back to Trump, who presented an image that  wasn’t kind–in fact, it was repeatedly and deliberately offensive. Zelenskyy isn’t the first political figure to be seen as a beacon of humility in opposition to Trump. During the election process, there were plenty of Americans who pledged their allegiance to Justin Trudeau, Canada’s prime minister then and now. His (comparatively) more progressive politics and demure persona captivated plenty of left-leaning people. Headlines like “5 Times Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau Was a Feminist Hero” and “Canada’s dreamy prime minister, explained” were common. More recently, the term “Cuomosexual'' became trendy, referring to New York governor Andrew Cuomo. Trevor Noah called himself one; T-shirts were made.

Two of these men have had very public downfalls.Praise for Trudeau ebbed after images of him in brownface were re-emerged. People generally stopped calling themselves “Cuomosexuals” after sexual harassment allegations came out against the governor. While these scandals involving Trudeau and Cuomo came to light after their public stardom, they had been politicians with troubled pasts years prior. Zelenskyy is relatively scandal free–another way his lack of experience becomes a strength. 

It’s a bit eerie to watch Servant of the People now. The first season of the show was made available on Netflix after Russia invaded Ukraine. Its opening scene is three Russian men planning on rigging the Ukrainian presidential election. They are corruption cartoons, but they do the job, laughing menacingly when Zelenskyy’s name is brought up. He stars as a teacher who is promptly elected after a video of him ranting about politics goes viral. Zelensky's acting is not overly comedic, or dramatic – his job is to be completely plain, an everyman. Halfway through the pilot, the Ukrainian Prime Minister (played by Stanislav Boklan) turns to Zelenskyy and says, “You have been offered an entirely new life.” In response, Zelenskyy’s character morosely stares out the car window. The look isn’t unlike the current pictures of him that adorn stickers and mugs.

Most of the show’s comedy revolves around an audience that believes its central events are ridiculous. One scene has the parents of a now-president Zelenskyy promising parliament jobs to their work friends. The joke is that this kind of exaggerated nepotism, say, Donald Trump hiring his own family members as White House staff, wouldn’t happen in real life. In another, Zelenskyy’s angry opposition accuses the election of being “rigged” and promises to appeal it in court. Once again, this joke relies on us finding an extremely aggressive losing party, say, one that would shout, “fake news!”, to be surreal, and therefore, funny. Much of this no longer translates. Zelenskyy does, though. We watch  Zelenskyy act deliberately average in the midst of a vast political circus, and we feel sympathetic. 

However similar Zelenskyy’s fictional and real behavior may be, they are separate. What works as a response to one often does not work as a response to another. Currently, Americans are rooting for Zelenskyy the way you might root for a fictional sports team. They donate to the Ukrainian military, put Ukrainian flags in their Twitter display names. Never mind that Ukraine’s army has done the kind of atrocities the United States is also guilty of. Perhaps this is why they feel comfortable thirsting over him, or selling replicas of his T-shirt. You can say “he’ll never do anything wrong–I trust him completely” about a fictional character. But to place those same expectations on a real man in the midst of a national crisis, can only mean we have failed to process reality on its own terms.