There are several things Benjamin Franklin says or does in Lloyd Suh’s play “Franklinland” that I knew to be true; or at least that I had read about previously: He invented the lightning rod, bifocals, a safer and more efficient stove, and he wanted the national bird to be the turkey, not the bald eagle. And then there are things I hadn’t heard about: He used twenty-first century slang like “nebbish dweebs” and “kissing ass”; he made constant fun of New Jersey; he urged his son to masturbate, waxing positively poetic about its benefits.
The first of these is obviously untrue, the second seems a vaudeville routine, but, I wondered, could the last be possible?
Feeling a bit foolish, I asked Google: “What was Benjamin Franklin’s attitude towards masturbation?”
To my amazement, it offered a clear answer: “Benjamin Franklin viewed masturbation negatively, considering it a harmful and self-indulgent practice that could detract from one’s productivity and moral character.”
The playwright, in other words, has chosen to create a play about Benjamin Franklin that mixes the factual with the fanciful. As a result, I found “Franklinland” neither reliable history nor steady entertainment, even while the production is served well by a talented three-member cast and a meticulous design team.
“Franklinland” primarily focuses on Benjamin Franklin’s relationship over three decades with his son William, from whom (as history tells us) he was famously estranged after William remained the loyalist Governor of New Jersey while his father became one of the Founding Fathers of the American Revolution. But the play would have us believe that Ben was always estranged from his son. He is painted as a terrible father, self-involved, neglectful and outright abusive – even when (especially when) seeming to encourage William: “Despite all evidence to the contrary, there must be some small capacity for greatness within you. …Even though your birth mother was a random prostitute, you are still my son,” he says to him In the first scene, which takes place in 1752 in Philadelphia, when Ben, then in his 40s, insists that 20-year-old William help him with his kite and lightning experiments, whether or not they’re safe.
As the six scenes of the 70-minute play advance through the years – until 1785, when 79-year-old Ben is visiting his 53-year-old son, who is in post-Revolution exile in London — the relationship undergoes several changes, but it doesn’t get any better, and Ben remains a jerk.
I suppose you can call this revisionist history, but I doubt it’s a product of careful research, and I don’t see what the point of it is.
It seems more likely an attempt at comedy. There are certainly some humorous exchanges, at least theoretically; during the performance I attended, the pacing seemed off, and few laughs were forthcoming.
Perhaps it is an attempt at a psychological exploration of general father-son dynamics, and, since it’s meant to be taken generally, the playwright didn’t see the need to adhere to the known historical record concerning the Franklin family.( “The identity of William’s mother is one of history’s delicious mysteries,” Walter Isaacson writes in his biography of Franklin. Her being a “random prostitute” is pure conjecture.)
Threaded throughout “Franklinland” are moments when Ben pontificates on science, or engages in it. We see him inventing, for example, a urinary catheter. And yes he really did invent this (I Googled that too.) But, given how unreliable everything else is in the play, there was little reason to trust that the playwright exempted the science from his fabrications.
It seems almost galling that this production of “Franklinland” is being presented at Ensemble Studio Theater as part of their long-running Alfred P.Sloan Foundation Science and Technology Project – which, as they write on their website, is “designed to stimulate artists to create credible and compelling work exploring the worlds of science and technology and to challenge the existing stereotypes of scientists and engineers in the popular imagination.” Mission unaccomplished.
If the playwright had taken his anti-documentary approach with almost any other historical figure – certainly most other Founding Fathers – I probably could have put any objections aside and enjoyed “Franklinland” for what is good about it: Riw Rakkulchon’s log cabin-like set is as full of clever detail as an art installation; Thomas Jay Ryan, a fixture of the New York stage last seen in this year’s Broadway production of “An Enemy of the People,” is well-cast as Benjamin Franklin, and Noah Keyishian and Mason Reeves as Ben’s son and grandson are promising newcomers. I don’t think the problem is that I recently saw “Franklin,” a miniseries starring Michael Douglas currently streaming on Apple TV+ (which I recommend!) It’s that so much that is true about Benjamin Franklin is so incredible – by which I mean, implausible – that it feels not just unnecessary to make things up about him; it feels like a missed opportunity.
Franklinland
EST through November 3
Running time: 75 minutes, no intermission
Tickets: $29 (students and seniors), $30 (general admission), $40 (reserved seating)
Written by Lloyd Suh
Directed by Chika Ike
Set Design by Riw Rakkulchon, costume design by Christopher Vergara | Lighting Design: Carolina Ortiz Herrera | Sound Design & Original Composition: Daniela Hart, Bailey Trierweiler, Noel Nichols & Uptown Works | Props Master: Thomas Jenkeleit
Cast: Noah Keyishian as William, Mason Reeves as William Temple, and Thomas Jay Ryan Benjamin Franklin
Photos by Jeremy Daniel
