And that was just Day One. 

After four years of a subdued term under President Joe Biden, 82, Trump has brought energy and unpredictability back to the Oval Office. The former reality TV star and businessman known for his branding, Trump, 78, jump-started his agenda with an eye for dramatics. 

After declaring America’s “decline” to be over during his inaugural address in the Capitol Rotunda and delivering a lengthy bonus speech in Emancipation Hall before lunch, Trump appeared at a packed Capital One Arena to sign executive actions, where he delighted in throwing his Sharpies into the crowd.

He also reveled in reporters peppering him with questions for almost an hour during his return to the White House‘s Oval Office as he granted pardons to Jan. 6 rioters before he headed to three inaugural balls. At the Commander in Chief Ball, he cut an Air Force One-shaped cake with a sword.

“Did Biden ever do news conferences like this?” Trump asked reporters from behind the Resolute desk.

At one point, while live on TV and after being prompted by a reporter, Trump found the letter Biden left for him in one of the desk’s drawers, quipping that “maybe we should all read it together.”

All “good presidents” are showmen who can deliver a line, according to Ronald Reagan biographer Craig Shirley, noting the stark comparison between Trump and Biden, who had a light public schedule and did few interviews, including not holding an end-of-administration news conference.

“When Reagan was leaving office, he was doing a network interview, and the reporter asked Reagan if there was anything he learned from his Hollywood days that helped him become a better president, and Reagan replied, ‘I don’t know how you can do this job and not be an actor,’” Shirley told the Washington Examiner. “All presidents know what Shakespeare said, ‘All the world is a stage.’ And ‘the play’s the thing.’”

Trump’s first full day in office started at the Washington National Cathedral for a prayer service, during which Mariann Budde, the Episcopal Diocese of Washington’s bishop, implored him to show “mercy” to illegal immigrants and members of the LGBT community.

“Not too exciting was it,” he told reporters afterward. “They could do much better.”

Trump then sat down with Republican congressional leadership, House Speaker Mike Johnson (R-LA) and Senate Majority Leader John Thune (R-SD). After, he announced in the Roosevelt Room that Oracle CEO Larry Ellison, Softbank CEO Masayoshi Son, and OpenAI’s Sam Altman had agreed to spend at least $500 billion to develop artificial intelligence infrastructure in the U.S. under the name Stargate, an arrangement White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt previewed on Fox News that morning instead of through emailed media guidance as per convention.

During his remarks, Trump joked it was his “first day back from having a nice life.”

“We’re back,” he added. “I think we’re going to do things that people would be shocked at.”

Trump went on to answer questions from reporters for another 30 minutes, during which he defended his Jan. 6 pardons, teased his travel to North Carolina, California, and Nevada on Friday, and criticized the Golden State’s water policies.

“They wanted to restrict you to 38 gallons of water a day,” he said. “That sounds like a lot, but it’s not. When you’re a rich person and you like to take a shower, 38 gallons doesn’t last very long.”

For Cesar Conda, a founding partner of Republican lobbying firm Navigators Global, Trump has been a showman since “he burst on the scene as a real estate developer in New York in the early 1980s.”

“Ronald Reagan was a movie actor,” Conda told the Washington Examiner. “Bill Clinton played ‘Heartbreak Hotel’ on his saxophone. They used these skills as showmen to capture the public’s attention and to draw them in to support their agenda.”

But Larry Jacobs, director of the University of Minnesota’s Center for the Study of Politics and Governance, contended showmanship has advantages and disadvantages.

“Donald Trump uses the outrageous to drive business deals and now to drive U.S. politics,” Jacobs told the Washington Examiner. “It can be a resource by resetting the terms of negotiation — Mexico, Canada, Greenland, and Panama may be more apt to cut a deal with Trump.”

To that end, Canada has started running ads, at least in the Washington, D.C., metro area, underscoring the importance of “this ally to the north,” on which Trump has threatened to impose 25% tariffs and as he mocks Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau as a U.S. governor.

Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum, whose country Trump has threatened with tariffs as well, has promised to defend her country as Trump told reporters on Monday he was open to using military force in Mexico after designating drug cartels as foreign terrorist organizations. Mexico is concerned, too, about Trump rolling back the U.S. Customs and Border Protection app through which asylum-seekers have been making appointments.

Meanwhile, Greenlandic Prime Minister Múte Egede is seeking a meeting with Trump to emphasize his people’s desire to remain a Danish territory and not become an American one. Panamanian President José Raúl Mulino has been more forceful in response to the president’s other desire regarding reclaiming the Panama Canal.

“On the other hand, the power of a threat loses its potency if it comes to be seen as ‘cheap talk,’” Jacobs, the professor, said. “This will especially become a problem for Trump as the 2026 election approaches and Trump’s political relevance fades because he can’t run for a second term.”

Republican strategist Duf Sundheim similarly argued that for showmanship to remain “effective long after the performer has pulled a rabbit out of a hat, it must be grounded in authenticity.” Sundheim cited former California Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger, for whom he used to work, as another good example.

“Showmanship … cuts through the noise, creates an emotional bond with the audience, and builds trust in the speaker’s ability to lead,” he told the Washington Examiner. “However, if overdone, it risks creating an impression of being ‘all hat, no cattle.’ … When used as a mask, its shelf life is limited.”