Great Moments in Television History: John Adams Edition
Friday, July 2, 2010
Spoiler Warning
It’s that time of year again, where Americans bust out their grills and fireworks and flag themed novelty cakes to celebrate the birth of our illustrious nation. I can’t blame us either. Red, white, and blue frosting is delicious and I enjoy a large explosion in the sky as much as the next Huck Finn or Johnny Appleseed or John Smith. Still, I try my best to fit a little actual history into the holiday; and what better way than with HBO’s fantastic miniseries John Adams?
Playtone Productions and an amazing cast brought David McCullough’s book to life with a realistic fervor typically absent in revolutionary period pieces. For subject matter so associated with romanticized grandeur, the series is actually made stronger by a lack thereof. It abandons the pedestal for a gritty milk crate, the overbearing score for a series of more subtle crescendos, and the battle scene for the conversation. While it does have its share of inaccuracies, it does its best to sift through the historical polish we place on the period and capture what it may have actually felt like to sit in the Pennsylvania State House in the summer of 1776:
The above vote was predicated by two overbearing facts. The first is that the all important vote for independence depended utterly on unity; and the second was that there was no going back after such a momentous proclamation. The result is a unique mood established onscreen: nervousness. When the vote is passed there were no trumpets, no applause, no wigged men shaking hands and extending their middle fingers in the general direction of England. These men, whom we so often see depicted with their chests out and chins high, are scared. Not terrified, of course, but there’s a silence in the room following the words “resolution carries” heavy enough to put strain on the breath.
It’s not until the news is broke to the public that some levity is achieved. The numerous and feisty Americans of old were ready and willing to accept the challenges that would follow. The sequence suggests that their strength provides fuel to the fire of the founders. You can practically see the blood flow return to Thomas Jefferson’s face when the crowd begins to cheer and the soldiers fire off the cannons. It’s a remarkable moment considering it’s a half second jump cut.
This is my favorite type of historical drama, one which acknowledges the mythos of its subject matter is questionable and drags it back down to Earth. A later scene embellishes this idea in not so subtle terms:
This scene, while largely fictitious (Adams did supposedly view John Trumbull’s piece, but the details of conversation are more historically vague), is admirable. A ghoulish Adams, aged in a manner likely authentic to the early 19th century, dismisses the work as fluff. More than that, though, he makes the astounding statement, “I consider the true history of the American Revolution as lost.” The irony of using a dramatized platform to deliver a message about dramatized platforms aside, I agree. There is a rosiness with which we view our own history, one which is full of blood, tribulation, and triumph, that I wouldn’t be bothered by dispelling.
So as we eat our hot dogs and flip our burgers, hopefully we can appreciate the events that led us to where we are as pieces of reality instead of charactertures painted on a museum wall. We should accept the founders as real people, great and flawed. Most of all, the next time a pundit mentions them in a fit of egomania, remember this quote:
“Abuse of words has been the great instrument of sophistry and chicanery, of party, faction, and division of society.” -John Adams
I’ll raise a glass of punch to that.
© 2010 Jeff and Company