FEEL THE BEN-ERGY
Michael Douglas turns on the charm as the cheeky Founding Father in ‘Franklin’
We have said this so many times in recent years that it has become almost too easy to say it again, but we must say it again in the case of the Apple TV+ limited series “Franklin,” because it is true:
There is a near-great four-part series within these eight episodes. With a total running time of nearly eight hours, “Franklin” sometimes moves at a glacial pace, but it’s still worth your valuable viewing time, in large part because of the museum-quality period-piece production detail, and primarily because of the sly and captivating performance by Michael Douglas as Benjamin Franklin.
We tend to think of Franklin as a portly and bald fellow with an enigmatic smile and a brain as big as the new country he so dearly loves, but it’s a stroke of genius to have one of our most iconic actors play the role. At the age of 79, Douglas still has that square-jawed handsomeness and commanding presence, and he infuses Franklin with a leading-man quality that makes it easy to believe he was, in a way, the first American to achieve global rock-star status.
Franklin is revered as one of the most American of Americans and that he was — yet he lived for a total of nearly three decades in Europe, spending 18 years based in London and another eight years in France. That latter period is the focus of this series, which begins with the 70-year-old Franklin arriving in France on a vital diplomatic mission on Dec. 3, 1776, accompanied by his bright but naïve teenage grandson, Temple (Noah Jupe), who is to serve as Franklin’s secretary.
With the veteran and acclaimed director Tim Van Patten (“The Sopranos,” “Game of Thrones,” “Boardwalk Empire”) behind the camera for all eight episodes and making wonderful use of locations including various spots in Paris as well as Château de Chambord and the grounds of Versailles, we experience the world of the privileged and
wealthy through the very different experiences of Franklin and Temple.
The wise and cheeky Franklin, who is adored by the masses that line up to catch a glimpse of him in public, spends countless hours parlaying with various diplomats and power brokers in an effort to gain muchneeded French financial and military support for the ongoing Revolutionary War effort. As for Temple, for much of the series it’s as if he’s in a powdered-wig Coming of Age adventure — brawling with snobby rivals, learning the language and adopting the clothes and mannerisms of the mannered and privileged class, and falling in love with a Black stage performer named Odette (Sonia Bonny) who is out of his league in more ways than one.
With King Louis XVI (a most excellent Tom Pezier) refusing to even acknowledge Dr. Franklin’s presence, Franklin and Temple settle in for an extended stay at the estate of the aristocratic businessman Chaumont (Olivier Claverie), who believes
an alliance with the Americans will lead to great profits down the road.
Even as Franklin struggles with an increasingly painful case of gout, he continues to indulge in rich meals and steady pours of wine, and he juggles possible romances with the sophisticated, music-loving Madame Anne-Louise Brillon (Ludivine Sagnier) and
the openly flirtatious widow Anne-Catherine de Ligniville, Madame Helvétius (Jeanne Balibar).
At times it’s nearly impossible to keep track of all the players in this extended game of three-dimensional chess, but the supporting ensemble is outstanding, most notably Daniel Mays as the duplicitous Edward Bancroft; Thibault de Montalembert as France’s
foreign minister, Comte de Vergennes, and Theodore Pellerin as Lafayette, the dashing young aristocrat who aided Gen. George Washington in the Continental Army’s victory at Yorktown.
Just when the proceedings begin to drag a bit and get bogged down in countless subplots, Eddie Marsan’s John Adams arrives in France as the perfect sober and deadly serious counterpart to Franklin’s reliance on charm and humor and subtle maneuverings to get the job done.
At one point when it’s just Adams and Franklin in the room, Adams says, “I do not like your so-called wit. … I don’t like your libertine appetites, damning in someone half your age but positively repellant in a man of advanced years. I do not like your lack of scruples …”
He’s not wrong — but it’s all those layers of personality, and Michael Douglas’ uncanny ability to make those facets come to life, that save the day in “Franklin.”