B. Franklin

Review by Neal Weaver

For many years, America’s founding fathers were treated so reverentially by historians that they seemed like inhuman figures on a monument. But from the beginning, Benjamin Franklin was the saltiest of them all. Because of his fondness for the ladies, his behind- the-scenes intrigues, his advanced age, and the omnipresent twinkle in his eye in all the surviving portraits, he’s always seemed less like a founding father than a Founding Foxy Grandpa, despite his indisputable contributions to science, government, diplomacy, literature, and civic life.

Performer Robert Lesko’s monodrama, therefore, doesn’t really break any new ground, but it does look at Franklin’s life through a new lens, focusing on his battles with his illegitimate but much-loved son William. Franklin was able to persuade his wife Deb to take the bastard child into their household, and raise him as her own. The boy became Franklin’s friend, confidante, and co-worker in his scientific experiments. So it was doubly painful when William aligned himself with the Tories, and became the Royal Governor of New Jersey. This seemed like a betrayal to Franklin, and it was his painful duty, as a delegate to the Second Continental Congress, to sit by helplessly when the Congress removed William from office and imprisoned him. (William’s Tory friends were able eventually to obtain his release, and he fled to England.)

In Lesko’s view, Franklin, in 1788, felt ringed around with enemies—including the prickly, Puritanical and pugnacious contrarian John Adams — and feared that their opposition would taint his legacy, and rob him of his due credit in fostering the Revolution—including his role in bringing about France’s recognition of the colonies/states, and its subsequent, vital military support.

Though Lesko focuses much of his attention on Franklin’s foibles, he also deftly folds into his narrative a surprising amount of public and personal history. He notes Franklin’s life-long efforts to keep relations amiable and civil, even with his enemies. But the passionate heart of Lesko’s play is the bitter and ultimately tragic conflict of Franklin with William. If there is any flaw in Lesko’s narrative, it is his decision to skip over the precipitating events which finally triggered the Revolution—the signing of the Declaration of Independence, and the battle of Lexington-Concord. So we leap abruptly from the move toward war to the middle of the war itself, leaving us with the impression that he has skipped a vital beat.

Ultimately, this is a literate and entertaining examination of a vital period in our history, told with wit, humor, and perspicacity, and acted with skill. And director Bjorn Johnson keeps things moving briskly and efficiently. Stephanie Kerley Schwartz’s handsome set adds considerable detail to remind us of Franklin’s time, and of his broad-ranging interests.—Neal Weaver

Stephanie Feury Studio Theatre, 5636 Melrose Ave., LA; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; through April 27. (800) 838-3006, www.bfranklin.brownpapertickets.com.