Lloyd Suh’s Franklinland, currently captivating audiences at the Ensemble Studio Theater in Manhattan, presents a nuanced portrait of Benjamin Franklin (portrayed by Thomas Jay Ryan) as he grapples with the duality of his identity: a revered founding father of a nascent nation and a struggling father to his impressionable son, William (played by Noah Keyishian). The play unfolds across six tightly woven scenes, spanning three decades of their tumultuous relationship, beginning in 1752 when William is an enthusiastic young adult, and culminating in 1785, a time when their bond has frayed to the point of conflict.
The result is a cleverly constructed period comedy, rich with enough droll humor to make the historical elements engaging. However, Suh’s narrative delves deeper, tackling a more universal theme: the often painful friction of unmet expectations that can drive a wedge between parents and their children. This exploration of familial discord rings true across generations, making it resonate with a modern audience.
Originally developed through the EST/Sloan Project in 2011, Franklinland made its debut in 2018 at Chicago’s Jackalope Theater. The play reflects Suh’s early fascination with historical figures and the personal turmoil that often accompanies great movements. These themes are further explored in his subsequent works, including The Chinese Lady and The Far Country, which was a finalist for the 2023 Pulitzer Prize in Drama.
Suh crafts a portrait of Benjamin Franklin that leans towards the narcissistic, showcasing his relentless obsession with progress—first through scientific inquiry, and later through political ambition. This obsession is epitomized by his acquisition of 20,000 acres in Nova Scotia (historically accurate, as Franklin did own land there), which he envisions transforming into a “playground of imagination and possibility” dubbed Franklinland.
While Franklin’s inventions—such as harnessing lightning for electricity, creating bifocal glasses, and improving the urinary catheter—are undeniably beneficial to society, his interactions with William are marked by a darker tone. These moments are riddled with biting humor, often at his son’s expense. Ryan’s portrayal of Franklin is refreshing; he infuses the character with a mischievous spirit, rendering the elderly statesman not just wise, but also sassy—quick to roll his eyes and dripping with condescension. This performance highlights a man consumed by a need for control, yet tragically oblivious to the emotional toll it takes on his family.
In his early portrayal, Keyishian’s William is depicted as an awkward, unremarkable young man. However, as the narrative progresses and William enters his 30s, Suh skillfully levels the playing field. He is appointed royal governor of colonial New Jersey, a moment that should signify triumph, yet is overshadowed by moments of self-doubt and clumsy dialogue. As the play shifts away from its earlier lightheartedness, it delves into a melodramatic truth that has already been established: life under the towering shadow of Benjamin Franklin can often feel isolating and cold.
