All About the Benjamin

Apple TV unveiled ‘Franklin,’ the latest prestige TV series about a founding father, starring Michael Douglas, last week. It covers the crucial negotiations between Franklin and France in the early days of the American Revolution, when he managed to win the nation’s support for a rebellion against the greatest military power in the world.

It is a gorgeous piece of work, beautifully designed and shot, and elaborately costumed. Douglas, as Franklin, arrives on the shores of France with his grandson Temple (played by Noah Jupe) under cover of darkness. He’s wrapped in heavy cloaks, his face hidden under a tricorner hat, reminding me of Disney’s ancient show Dr. Syn, Alias The Scarecrow. He hurries into a carriage while a British spy follows at a discreet distance.

Unfortunately, that’s the last dramatic thing that happens in the pilot. 

The show is a Masterpiece Theater version of history, wringing the high points from Franklin’s time in France. In 1776, the uprising in the 13 colonies was very much in doubt. The British were, not to put too fine a point on it, kicking the shit out of the Americans, and the colonists had just lost New York. Without France’s money and munitions, the fight to create the United States would have been a footnote in the history of the greater British Empire.

But diplomacy is not that fun to watch. And for whatever reason, the creators’ attempts at verisimilitude turn what should be the adventures of a brilliant man into a slog.

It doesn’t particularly matter that Michael Douglas looks nothing like the portly, balding guy on the $100 bill. Despite the country bumpkin image Franklin would occasionally present, he was a self-taught polymath, a brilliant wordsmith, and keen political strategist. Douglas has the star power to illuminate the screen as one of the first American celebrities. Without him, there would be no show.

They just don’t give him a lot to say or do. Even when he makes a fart joke, Douglas intones his dialogue as if he’s carving it into stone. Any wit or snap in his scenes is drained by the choice—historically accurate, but slow—to have the French speak French, and to have them translate Franklin’s speeches when his own attempts to speak the language falter.

Franklin, in life, was the funniest founder; sharp, smart, occasionally dirty. It’s sad that ‘Franklin’ doesn’t give him any good lines.

Likewise, Franklin’s grandson Temple could have provided a window into the private reality behind the public image Franklin invented. He could have been the rebel that Franklin was decades before, reminding his grandfather of his own reckless youth. Instead, he’s wide-eyed and innocent and boring, despite ogling French women and drinking with Lafayette (Théodore Pellerin).

In fact, the French are the only ones who appear to be having any fun. Assaad Bouab, as Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais, plots and schemes to arm America with a devilish grin. Everyone else labors along as if they know some poor high school kid will have to answer a question about all this on a test someday.

The producers chose to go for truth over legend here, but I honestly wonder why. It’s hard to believe a general audience is that invested in the specific chronology or exact record of Franklin’s nine years in France.

‘Franklin’ could have been the story of a multifaceted man playing the role of a lifetime. It could have heightened the danger he faced, escalated the stakes. This means to be a piece of entertainment, but let’s not forget that Ben Franklin really did change the world when he traveled to France. This should be, at the very least, interesting.

For all the criticism we throw at him, this is where a writer like Aaron Sorkin shines—turning the shambling mess of actual events into rapid-fire walk-and-talk. Or to take it even further, Lin-Manuel Miranda added rap battles to the life of Alexander Hamilton, and now everyone knows that guy’s name.

It would have been nice to see some of that energy in ‘Franklin’. The man who invented the lightning rod surely deserves a little spark in the story of the greatest accomplishment of his life.