The butler did it, with aplomb ...

“Looking Over the President’s Shoulder” looks over the career of Alonzo Fields as a White House butler, from Herbert Hoover’s administration through FDR’s and Harry Truman’s and into Dwight Eisenhower’s.

Although blessed with the commanding presence of actor John Henry Redwood, writer and director James Still’s play succumbs to many of the inherent pitfalls within the genre of monodramas about historical figures.

The production at the Pasadena Playhouse is tepid and predictable. It’s ungainly, too, feeling contrived from the get-go.

Fields has just left the White House, after his last day on the job in 1953. He pauses in the park, across the street, and starts talking about his experiences.

Perhaps Still realized that people who talk to themselves in parks are often seen as unbalanced. He has Fields scribble a few notes in a pad, so maybe we’re supposed to think that he’s writing instead of speaking. But the notepad doesn’t linger for long, and Fields talks for more than two hours. If this play had to be a monodrama, Still should at least have allowed Fields to talk to a historian or ruminate at a family reunion.

In a program note, Still wrote that on the job, “Fields was required to be silent, to stare straight ahead, to not smile or acknowledge any of the conversations taking place.”

Finally, in this play, “he would get to tell his story.” Judging from what Fields says, however, his poker face wasn’t always required. He describes more animated encounters with several famous people, as well as with other staff members.

Even the photograph of Fields in the program shows that he managed to smile at least once on the job.

The play would have felt more urgent if Fields had related the events as they happened, before he knew how everything would turn out -- in a series of conversations with, say, his wife. But the script hardly touches on Fields’ personal life, referring obliquely to his wife’s illnesses and never going into detail about children beyond saying that he had a family. This is a potentially poignant corner of the story that Still left unexplored for unexplained reasons.

At any rate, the lack of a precisely identified audience -- who is Fields talking to in that park? -- leads to a couple of awkward constructions in which Fields has to ask himself a question and then answer it (“Do I get angry? Oh yes, I got angry”). And the fact that the piece is one long talk spoken from hindsight, instead of a series of contemporaneous conversations, leads to cliches (“It was like being in the front row and watching the passing parade of history”) and creates a meandering “and then this happened, and then that happened” structure.

Redwood has a deep, resonant voice that sounds right for a man who originally wanted to sing opera, and he has the physical stature ascribed to Fields. He speaks with the stately, carefully enunciated cadences that you would expect from a White House butler. When Fields mimics others, Redwood alters his voice and stance. But perhaps because Redwood recognizes that Fields would not have been a trained impersonator, his chameleonic range remains narrow; several of those who are mimicked sound somewhat similar to one another.

Russell Metheny’s set consists of a chair for each president, austere columns and a round table that descends at play’s end to reveal a lavish dinner setting that Fields sums up as the culmination of his “art.” He hasn’t previously mentioned his mastery of table settings.

Not surprisingly, this scene feels ludicrously overblown, especially as Redwood walks around the table, tearfully singing “Ave Maria.” Get me rewrite.

*

‘Looking Over the President’s Shoulder’

Where: Pasadena Playhouse, 39 S. El Molino Ave.

When: Tuesdays-Fridays, 8 p.m.; Saturdays, 5 and 9 p.m.; Sundays, 2 and 7 p.m.; Feb. 12, 2 p.m.

Ends: Feb. 23

Price: $29.50-$44.50

Contact: (626) 356-7529

Running Time: 2 hours, 20 minutes

John Henry Redwood...Alonzo Fields

Written and directed by James Still. Set by Russell Metheny. Costumes by Kathleen Egan. Lighting by Darren McCroom. Sound and music by Michael Keck. Production stage manager Conwell Sellars Worthington III.