Aaron Adams’s Lame-ass Blog

Perhaps it’s a bit late to write about the HBO mini-series John Adams considering all seven episodes have aired. Or perhaps not, because the excellent writing, acting, and production quality of the series is bound to make it timeless and equally as appealing in years to come as it is presently. As I’ve stated in a previous post, some thoughts about the series have occurred and re-occurred to me, but I haven’t been able to write them down in a coherent form that all two of my readers can follow. I realized as I was writing last night that I must either produce something now, or forget it and wait patiently for the next thing that gets my typing fingers hot enough to pound out some stream-of-consciousness screed. To that end, I’ve decided to write short pieces about the series (driven by the soundtrack in my headphones) as the mood hits me.

I’ll state that, somewhat to my embarrassment, I’m mildly obsessed with the series and the main character for reasons related to a similar fascination I have with House and Richard Nixon: I’m drawn to characters and people that have genuinely useful intellect, people of accomplishment and contribution, but who emotionally struggle with common situations and people, especially themselves. I’ve read David McCullough’s book and I’ve known quite a bit about John Adams since I was young due to my personal interest in the American Revolution. To see a television series dedicated to the one founding father probably most responsible for our independence is scant compensation in place of any formal memorial for the man in our nation’s capitol. Of all the founding fathers who played major roles during the revolution and who were early Presidents, Adams is the only one without the formal recognition of a monument or a portrait on currency. Jefferson and Washington both get elaborate memorials and a bill and coin each featuring their portrait, and Adams gets nothing! That’s damn unfair, and damn unappreciative of the country and countrymen who owe him so much. (Sam Adams, a more minor player, still has a beer named after him, even though he ran a brewery into the ground two centuries ago.)

The series is full of moments that, with twenty-first century hindsight, I would have loved to have seen in person. Imagine walking with the Adamses during the night to the hill just outside their home overlooking Boston to see the British fleet shelling the fortifications around the city, knowing that this marks the beginning of the Revolutionary War. What must the feeling be like to watch teams of men drag captured cannons from Fort Ticonderoga through the mud, lead by Henry Knox, past the Adams home to the heights over Boston, knowing those cannons will force a British retreat? (Even though there wasn’t powder or a single cannon ball for any of them!) How thrilling and unforgettable would it have been to witness Washington’s inauguration, either from the street or behind him on the balcony, to hear the man’s voice speak the oath, and to be overtaken by the cheering of the crowd? (Adams’s acknowledgement as Vice President on the balcony with Washington is his finest moment in the series, in my opinion.) Surely it would be awe-inspiring, and maybe a little weird, to ride a wagon into Washington City, as they called it, which was a tree-filled swamp, and then come to a clearing with a half-finished White House constructed in the middle. The creative people associated with the production did an outstanding job of recreating these moments and scenes for the audience. Reading and imagining it are one thing, but to have it presented before you as reality is something else entirely.

To close this post, I want to write something about David Morse and Paul Giamatti. David Morse, who played George Washington, had quite a task set for him. He could easily have played the character too narrowly and made him out to be all hero and no human. Not so, thankfully. Washington certainly was a gentleman and a aristocrat of his time, but he also had a temper and ambition, and without going over the top, Morse plays Washington about as well as anyone ever may. And Paul Giamatti owns the character of John Adams. Although the series seems to primarily focus on the negatives and trials of Adams’s life, Giamatti manages to perfectly portray Adams’s self-deprication and dry humor when necessary, and I very much enjoyed that. The range of emotions necessary for playing the character, from disowning his own son and his grief at Abagail’s death, to the triumphant moment life was breathed into the Constitution as Washington was sworn in, has to be difficult for any actor. As much as some people may dismiss acting as a trivial skill, it must take stamina and fortitude to bring these emotions to the screen day after day. I’m sure both Mr. Morse and Mr. Giamatti will sleep better tonight knowing they have my approval and appreciation.