Things are going well for Pete Buttigieg. Typically the position of transportation secretary isn’t exactly the sexiest Cabinet post for a rising political star, but Buttigieg has arguably become President Joe Biden’s most prominent surrogate for some of the most important legislation of his presidency — infrastructure — and managed to avoid fading from view after his astonishingly successful 2020 presidential run. In the world of elite Democratic fundraisers, Buttigieg is already being discussed as a top 2024 contender should Biden decline to run for a second term.
Now he’s the subject of a new documentary, “Mayor Pete,” premiering Friday on Amazon Prime, which draws from extensive behind-the-scenes footage of Buttigieg’s presidential campaign to give us a closer look at a politico who became a household name overnight.
While “Mayor Pete” is disappointing as a work of political journalism, it’s a win for Buttigieg.
What do we learn about him? Unfortunately, not much.
Buttigieg remains as inscrutable as ever, both because of the shallow, deferential style of the documentary and because he lacks a clear political identity. In fact, perhaps the most tangible takeaway from the film is that his husband, Chasten, is a surprising political asset, a natural foil to Buttigieg who is not only able to work crowds but also the filmmakers themselves.
While “Mayor Pete” is disappointing as a work of political journalism, it’s a win for Buttigieg: His natural political style derives power from ambiguity, and most people don’t need to access the inner life of politicians to rally behind them. (In fact, most people probably know that such access is impossible.)
Director Adam Moss draws on a wealth of footage shot in a vérité style that tracks Buttigieg’s evolution from ambitious mayor of South Bend, Indiana, to improbable winner of the Iowa Democratic caucuses. We see Buttigieg up close at home doing laundry, shaking hands with fans, preparing meticulously for the debate stages where he shone brightly, and reacting to both wins and losses with an equanimity that sometimes comes across as stoic and other times as robotic.
The major breakthrough of the film is its documentation of his relationship with his husband — both because Chasten seems to bring out modes of expression in his husband that nobody else can and because it shows something unprecedented: a portrait of a romantic partnership involving the first openly gay candidate in American history to earn presidential primary delegates toward a major party’s nomination. “Mayor Pete” offers a glimpse into the thorny dilemmas Buttigieg faced in discussing his sexual orientation as a part of his outlook on the world without having it define him or be seen as a general election liability. A discussion between Buttigieg and his husband about the meaning of Buttigieg’s line in a speech — he said he once wished he would’ve taken a pill to become straight — is heart-wrenching.
But that scene also showcases the limitations of the documentary. Both men are, of course, aware that they’re being filmed — and as they probe at Buttigieg’s inner turmoil, the context is how the line might play with voters. And that’s ultimately what most of this documentary is about — Buttigieg’s optics game. In 96 minutes, there is virtually no discussion of Buttigieg’s policy record or vision. There are no prompts for him to describe his ideological worldview beyond vague rhetoric about belonging. Instead, we see constant back-and-forths between him and his pit bull of a communications director, Lis Smith, about how various talking points will land with the Democratic electorate. And while Buttigieg argues in interviews that workshopping ideas with consultants threatens his “authenticity,” it’s unclear exactly what the substance of that authenticity is.








