Thomas Jay Ryan (right) plays Benjamin Franklin, and Noah Keyishian is his son, William, in Lloyd Suh’s comedy Franklinland.
It can’t have been easy to have polymath and Founding Father Benjamin Franklin for a father—talk about expectations. In Lloyd Suh’s Franklinland, a comic rendering of the relationship between Franklin and his son William, Franklin is portrayed by the superb Thomas Jay Ryan, who captures perfectly Suh’s conception of the character as conceited, brilliant, and callous. Franklin himself knows this, and uses his own outsized reputation as a cudgel against his somewhat bumbling offspring.
The opening comic scenes showcase Ryan’s flawless timing and seem to relish the gap between the often stodgy portrayals of historical figures and the silliness of how these two men are actually interacting (for the tone, think something along the lines of Veep).
Franklin often explains things to his son and demeans him at the same time.
Ben: I know it’s hard. But this is how one learns.
William: Was it like this with you, when you were my age?
Ben: Well, no. But I’m Benjamin Franklin. So.
William: Oh.
Ben: Yeah.
Noah Keyishian’s William is a good-hearted buffoon in the early going and then a near-tragic character toward the end. He may lack his father’s brilliance, but he tries to be decent despite Ben’s repeated reminders of his origins and mediocrity: “Even though your birth mother was a random prostitute, you are still my son. So you should be at least half remarkable, and yet here you are, merely average.” Every decision William makes, from accepting a royal appointment to be Governor of New Jersey to refusing to join the Revolutionary side, is driven first by a desire to impress his father and then to wound him.
Franklinland is comprised of six scenes, spanning from 1752 to 1785, and runs a brisk 70 minutes under Chika Ike’s skillful direction. It is billed as a “new play,” but it actually dates back to a workshop production at Ensemble Studio Theatre in 2014, and it had a production at Chicago’s Jackalope Theatre, also directed by Ike, in 2018. (Suh has since written the acclaimed Chinese Lady and the 2023 Pulitzer finalist Far Country.) There are political resonances to the play, of course—how could there not be, with a Founding Father as one of the characters and a national election fast approaching?—but it is first and foremost a story of a father and a son, with history as a lightly sketched backdrop.
The vividly detailed scenic design by Riw Rakkulchon represents the inside of a barn, Franklin’s workshop and studio, and though some scenes take place elsewhere, it is fitting to have this studio as the constant presence, since Franklin seems most himself surrounded by his instruments and scientific experiments. (The play is co-produced by the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation, which commissions or supports plays that deal with science.)
Mason Reeves (left) plays William Temple Franklin, grandson to the Founding Father and son to William. Photographs by Jeremy Daniel.
The characters for the most part speak in a contemporary and colloquial way, though occasionally speech is rendered in a more antiquated vein (“’Tis a dour loner, this eagle,” Ben complains about Washington’s decision to have the bald eagle represent the new nation). The first scene involves the set-up for Franklin’s famous kite experiment during an electrical storm (excellent lighting design by Carolina Ortiz Herrera), in which Ben warns William, “Whatever you do, don’t touch the key,” but rather the ribbon tied to it; when William inquires how they will know if the experiment has worked and electricity has been conducted, Franklin responds, “By touching the key.”
In addition to just being very funny, the play’s tone and approach cuts Franklin down to size—it makes him a flawed and difficult man, rather than a sainted monolith or dispenser of homespun wisdom via Poor Richard’s Almanack. The play’s tonal shift in the later scenes, from quick-witted, almost-absurdist comedy to earnest family drama, is somewhat less successful—it becomes more generic, less quirky, though the final scene and ending are effective and moving. The title refers to territory in Nova Scotia that Franklin acquired and dreamed of turning into a scientific utopia; later it is used as an attempted bargaining chip with William, and eventually with William Temple (Mason Reeves), William’s son, who first appears in this final scene, estranged from his father but apprenticing with his grandfather. The connection between Ben and William, however fraught and uneasy it was from the outset, seems ruptured forever, while William Temple still holds out hope for a better world (supposedly all Ben ever wanted), which includes some kind of relationship with his father in Franklinland.
Franklinland is a highly enjoyable, witty, and ironic glimpse into how there is no correlation between being a Founding Father and being a kind father.
Franklinland plays at Ensemble Studio Theatre through Nov. 3. Evening performances are at 7 p.m. Monday and Wednesday through Saturday; matinees are Saturday at 2 p.m. and Sunday at 5 p.m. For tickets and more information, visit ensemblestudiotheatre.org.
Playwright: Lloyd Suh
Director: Chika Ike
Scenic Design: Riw Rakkulchon
Costume Design: Christopher Vergara
Lighting Design: Carolina Ortiz Herrera
Sound Design & Original Composition: Daniela Hart, Bailey Trierweiler, Noel Nichols & Uptown Works
