Donald J. Trump has long believed any problem can be solved by more Trump on TV—even when the problem is Trump. With midterms approaching, rising prices, and the war in Iran dragging on, his low approval ratings worried Republicans. His answer: a "midterm convention," a two-night extravaganza by, for and starring himself, live from Dallas.

It was Schrödinger's Convention, made in the paradoxical hope it would be both watched and not watched. Carried on C-SPAN and conservative outlets, it was up against high-profile N.F.L. games each night. Surely some Republicans would have been just as happy if no one watched.

What we saw was the culmination of a decades-long trend turning conventions into pure long-form TV ads. No one was nominated, no ballots cast. It was pared down to state signs, novelty costumes—the president shouted out "Mr. Wall," a supporter in a suit of trompe l'oeil bricks—and hour upon hour of speeches.

But this lacked oomph, especially when the guest of his own honor was offstage. The strongest energy was negative, the speeches more warning than promise, the jeers for Democrats rivaling the cheers for the G.O.P.