Donald Trump sat atop the business world for decades, and thought he was about to become a policy leader when he ran for president and won.

But Trump is quickly finding out that whomever gets to live in the White House is actually in charge of an actor's troupe — all the posers and preeners who don't want to get anything done.

There was a time when Washington at least cranked out middling to bad policy, and sometimes got lucky and did something right. But those days are long gone.

Today, the only thing rolling off the assembly line in Washington is ... moments. Little moments captured on film and in pictures. Those moments need to be filled with actors and actresses, and we call those people "politicians."

Last week, Rep. Steve Scalise, R-La., returned to the House. Lawmakers clapped, Speaker Paul Ryan cried, and we got to revisit the lessons everyone learned after the June baseball practice shooting.

It was a truly joyous moment to hear him speak, to watch him smile, and to think about how lucky he was.

But that moment wasn't some poignant icing on the cake that balanced out a busy, meaningful week in Washington. It was the city's only work product.

Two days earlier, the Senate effort to repeal, or replace, or modify, or even lay a finger on Obamacare, died with another whimper. They didn't even vote.

There were more "moments" when Republicans released a tax "plan" so devoid of details that no one can prove you wrong if you say it would increase the debt, or decrease it.

Washington makes viral movies of these moments, and ships them out to the world to watch, and argue over. It's the government's most important export.

Trump is showing signs that he's catching on to Washington, this strange factory that rolls out delays, excuses and temporary PR victories the way Hostess rolls out Twinkies. He's realizing that the city doesn't actually do very much.

Trump recalled this month how surprised he was that the Republican-led Congress couldn't deliver him a bill to overhaul Obamacare, even after many of these same Republicans had screamed about it for years.

"I thought that when I won I would go to the Oval Office, sit down at my desk, and there would be a healthcare bill on my desk, to be honest," Trump said. "It hasn't worked out that way, and I think a lot of Republicans are embarrassed by it."

Trump sees how useless Washington can be, just as his voters did. But it's not clear whether Trump can do anything to control these time-wasting thespians, who treat Washington like an old movie lot as they rush from one building to the next, doing hits for the unslakable cable TV shows.

These actors may yet have more surprises up their sleeve for the new president.

Do Republicans really want tax reform? Do they really want to build him a wall on the southern border? Will they really push for these things, or will talk about these ideas and then suddenly slip into election mode again?

Other "critical" and "must-do" issues have died before.

A few years ago, it was "critical" that Washington do something to bail out the U.S. Postal Service. And then ... nothing was done. The Supreme Court's ruling on the Voting Rights Act surely demanded some legislative answer, didn't it? Not really.

Congress doesn't seem much interested in anything anymore. A few weeks ago, when Sen. Rand Paul invited senators to give themselves that authority once more, most declined.

If politics really is pure theater now, it's the most expensive theater in the history of the world. And it's not even very good theater.

But there's still one way to Trump can strike back at Washington: Give it a bad review.

He did that Friday with Tom Price, the former Health and Human Services Secretary. Price failed to deliver Obamacare repeal, and then he spent up to $1 million flying around on chartered jets.

What the hell kind of show is this? It took Trump just a few days to realize Price's time on the stage was over.

"I certainly don't like the optics," Trump said Friday when asked about Price.

Just like that, the lights dimmed, the doors were shut, and Price, at least for a short time, became just another out-of-work actor.