South Plainfield, N.J. — Governor Chris Christie of New Jersey, who’s riding high in the opinion polls, is considered a leading contender for the GOP’s vice-presidential nomination. His town-hall meeting here on Thursday afternoon, held at a local gymnasium, shows why his national political stock is rising — and why Garden State Republicans have mixed feelings about his potential departure.

The event begins with cinematic flair. The lights dim, the 400-member-plus audience hushes, and a screen at the front of the room begins to crackle. Pulsating orchestral music plays as Christie narrates his gubernatorial record. The flickering images, which wash across the faces of the elderly crowd, are reminiscent of the title sequence of The Sopranos. A gritty New Jersey, filmed through sepia and black-and-white tones, comes into view. Broken windows, snarling legislators, and down-and-out cities form a montage. But through all the grime, slowly and steadily, strolls one man. He’s a warrior, a hero, and an outsider.

The staccato sounds quicken as Christie and carefully chosen media figures, such as Sean Hannity and Matt Lauer, tout his leadership qualities. We learn about his “commitment,” his lack of “fear,” and his “Jersey attitude.” These messages aren’t implied — they are pasted across the screen in bold letters.

Some in the audience nod, others cheer.

A second after the clip is finished, before the crowd has a chance to digest what they’ve seen, the lights are abruptly turned on. A grandmother rubs her eyes. Heads hastily turn away from the screen and toward the parting black curtains in the back, which are hung between basketball nets. There’s a brief pause, and then, whoosh. Christie, the movie star from a moment before, emerges. The place erupts. As he steps forward, Christie’s broad, ruddy face is serious and statesman-like, but his eyes are playful. He has already won them over.

For the next minute, dressed in a dark suit, blue shirt, and green tie, Christie holds on to a wireless microphone and shakes a few hands. Cell-phone cameras flash everywhere. All around him, beyond the bleachers, are New Jersey state troopers. Local detectives stand behind them, their arms folded and holsters visible. Countless aides hover near the staging area. They all wear earpieces and look stern. A giant American flag and a bright-yellow New Jersey flag hang behind the spot where Christie stands. The spectacle is part Hollywood premiere, part pep rally, and part presidential campaign.

But up close, when you see him pace across the floor, talking for 30 uninterrupted minutes about his achievements, you sense that this isn’t merely an expertly stage-managed politician, another governor with a large entourage, bravado, and a Patton-esque flag background. He is a cut above.

Whip-smart, articulate, and pleasantly pugnacious, Christie has the aura of a bona fide national sensation. The raucous applause he receives in Middlesex County is the same kind of reception that the governor receives in Orange County, the Rust Belt, and the Deep South. Republicans, from tea-party activists to national-committee grandees, can’t get enough. Team Romney, which has used Christie’s talents on the trail, surely notices. Yet at home, among his grizzled and outspoken constituents, the embrace of Christie is warmer and more intense than it is elsewhere. Speaking with the attendees, from members of the carpenters’ union and GOP state legislators to working-class parents, I don’t hear about Christie as just a future president, but as “the next Ronald Reagan.”

It’s pretty heady stuff.

So, as Romney and his advisers mull the vice-presidential pick, it’s worth observing Christie in action, now, to get a sense of what they’d get if they tapped this Jersey favorite. At first blush, it’s obvious that as Romney’s number two, he’d bring many advantages. He’d be an asset in the Northeast, where independents admire his disposition and fiscal conservatism. His experience as United States attorney, where he prosecuted corporate thugs and criminal politicians, would be a fine complement to Romney’s decades as a Bain Capital executive.

Republican operatives often mention Ohio senator Rob Portman as a likely Romney selection, due to his low-key nature and Midwestern roots. But Romney could easily go in the opposite direction. He may want a gregarious, accomplished veep who could energize the base, appeal to Catholics, and win over swing voters — even if that candidate is the polar opposite, in terms of presentation and rhetoric. Come summer, especially, Romney could be looking for an attack dog — someone to punch back at President Obama’s bullying surrogates. And, as I’m often asked here: Can you imagine Christie in a debate with Vice President Biden? The idea thrills conservatives.

But what else, beyond a vaunted stage presence, does Christie bring to the table? In short, many things. Here are eight quick town-hall observations.

1) Christie today is similar to the union-fighting rookie governor who took office in January 2010, but he’s visibly grown into the role. These days, he talks not so much about the battles to come, but about the battles he has won. “We cut every department of state government,” he says. “It hurt. I didn’t want to cut education by over $800 million. But we had to. I didn’t want to cut human services; I didn’t want to cut health care. But we had to do it because there was no place else to turn.” His core message is that he didn’t want to ask overtaxed citizens for more money to fund the out-of-control state budget, so he refused to raise taxes, and cut spending instead. “We’ve made government smaller,” he says, after two years of brutal budget brawls.

2) He’s big on the “comeback.” Christie dubs this town hall and others like it the “New Jersey Comeback” tour, which sounds like a concert series that could be staged by his idol, Bruce Springsteen. He talks about everything in “comeback” terms. To him, tangible improvement from the past is paramount. He is results-oriented, and he peppers his talk with stats and growth figures. One downside: Amidst the forward thrust, he talks a little too much about the man he ousted, Democrat Jon Corzine, and the problems the troubled former Goldman Sachs executive left behind. But overall, his pitch, which is marinated in resurgent optimism, is a complete winner. It’s upbeat with a hint of grit.

3) He may be a YouTube star, due to his office’s savvy promotion of video clips featuring his sparring with unruly teachers and hecklers, but Christie talks about his governing style as bipartisan. He admits that he can be brash, but he takes care to say that, behind the rough-and-tumble exchanges, there is a pol who’s willing to work with all sides, not merely to toe the party line. He riffs on this theme throughout his town hall, using it as a way to contrast his work with lawmakers in Washington, whom he describes as ineffective and bickering. “You know what’s going on in Washington right now, and if you’re like me, you just shake your head,” he says. “They don’t talk to each other; they talk at each other. They send out press releases and go on these incessant cable-news talk shows and say these awful things about each other. They don’t get it done.”

4) He says he doesn’t care about adulation. He wants respect for his accomplishments as a leader, as a governor with a purpose, which may be one reason why he decided against running for president now, during his first gubernatorial term. “I don’t care about being loved,” he says. “I’ve got plenty of love at home. My mother once told me, ‘Christopher, just be yourself, so you don’t have to worry tomorrow about remembering who you pretended to be yesterday.’ She also told me that you have to make a choice between being respected and being loved. Take being respected, she said. If you’re respected, she said, true love might come. But love without respect is fleeting.” He pauses. “Of course, she was talking about women.” The audience laughs. “It’s also good advice for politics,” he says. “Too many politicians care about being loved.” One of the best moves he took early on, he says, was to tell his staff to say “no” to the lobbyists who stopped by.

5) He’s open to being vice president and, refreshingly, isn’t coy about it. When asked, Christie says he’ll “listen” if Romney asks. “If Governor Romney comes to me and wants to talk about it, I’ll always listen,” he says. From the press pen, I detect a slight smile on Christie’s face — he doesn’t mind the attention. “I have no intention of leaving here,” he says. He then wonders aloud if it’d be a good fit. “I don’t know if I have the typical personality to be president,” he says. The crowd chuckles. “But I care about my country enough, about my party, to listen,” he says.

6) He may be a darling of the Right, but should Christie bring this road show beyond New Jersey, he’d lose a few boosters once they get past the bluster and look at his positions. He’s off the reservation, in terms of conservative politics, on a few key issues. New Jersey’s gun laws, as Robert VerBruggen has written, “aren’t merely restrictive, they are gratuitously punitive,” and Christie supports all of the state’s current gun laws and a ban on assault weapons. On other fronts, he’d raise a few eyebrows. The first state attorney general he appointed, Paula Dow, is an avowed liberal Democrat. He supports civil unions for homosexual couples. On immigration, he once explained, as U.S. attorney, that “being in this country without proper documentation is not a crime.” And he’s cut taxes in New Jersey, but on the federal level, he has supported the Simpson-Bowles plan to reduce the deficit, which includes tax increases.

7) For a supposed tough guy, Christie connects with women. He comes across as a father and husband with a full plate of responsibilities, not a preachy culture warrior. And as the Beltway war for the female vote continues, it’s worth noting that Christie led his remarks with positive stories about his lieutenant governor, Kim Guadagno, his “great-looking wife,” Mary Pat, and his late mother. His words on the last of these topics, most notably, draw claps from the mothers present. He spoke compellingly about his last visit to her deathbed — with heart and humor.

8) Christie is increasingly keeping an eye on the national scene, and that interest becomes more evident by the day. Speaking in New York City this week, he turned his attention to the growing federal deficit and offered some frank rhetoric. “I’ve never seen a less optimistic time in my lifetime in this country,” he said. “We’re turning into a paternalistic entitlement society. That will not just bankrupt us financially; it will bankrupt us morally.” Those remarks, made in front of former president George W. Bush, drew praise from around the conservative world, and they are echoed in his town-hall speech. The comments reflect his interest in the broader national debate, and his role in shaping it.

Still, all this being said, when you watch Chris Christie in action, it’s hard to imagine him at the Naval Observatory. He’s not the usual vice-presidential type. In almost every respect, this is a man who relishes being a chief executive, running the show. He’s focused on the Trenton wars, his reelection campaign next year, and, perhaps, a future presidential run. He’s not going to turn down the slot if Romney offered, but here in New Jersey, he’s nobody’s number two.

— Robert Costa is a political reporter for National Review.