If you picture the Founding Fathers as tall, imposing figures with aquiline noses, standing erect above the crowd like George Washington, or as reserved, fine-featured statesmen like Thomas Jefferson, then diminutive, chunky Paul Giamatti will strike a jarring note as the second U.S. president.
But Giamatti makes a fine John Adams, a short, fat, cranky spark plug of a Founding Father, in a performance that gains credibility as it unspools.
Best known for his roles in “Sideways,” “The Nanny Diaries” and “American Splendor,” Giamatti portrays Adams in HBO’s miniseries “John Adams” as a gutsy, principled, stubborn New Englander, more at home in the muck on his Massachusetts farm than wading through the verbiage of the Continental Congress in Philadelphia.
He depicts Adams as single-minded in his respect for the law, uncompromising in his pursuit of independence for the upstart country, and impatient with social niceties like powdered wigs, not to mention the diplomatic fussiness of 18th century Paris.
The little brainiac is shown to be a snob, as well.
“People are in need of strong governance. Most men are weak and evil and vicious,” he observes.
As the man famously reliant on his politically astute wife, Abigail Adams, played by Laura Linney (most recently of “The Savages”), Giamatti ranges from orator to lover in the course of the miniseries. Linney’s Abigail, unfortunately, is given too many lines that jump out in italics to telegraph feminist impulses.
“Men need to think they’ve made their own decisions,” she says.
“Do women not live politics, John?”
A fuller portrayal of this fascinating historical character, beyond her role as best supporting founder, would be welcome.
John Adams, who was self-aware enough to refer to himself as obnoxious, was famously moody and more inclined to study history and political philosophy than to engage in hands-on politics. He is made flesh by Giamatti in the seven-part, nine-hour biography based on David McCullough’s book.
The miniseries debuts Sunday at 6 p.m. with the first two installments. Subsequent parts are slated for Sundays through April 20. Judging by the four hours available for preview, the story is engrossing and the lavish production, closely overseen by McCullough, is worthy of its subject.
The film covers the period from the Boston Massacre in 1770 to Adams’ death on July 4, 1826 (the same day as Thomas Jefferson). The intimate historical account is less epic than personal, conveying events through the prism of the opinionated, pushy Adams. Much of the filming took place in the Colonial Williamsburg Historic Area outside Richmond, Va. Additionally, Budapest, Hungary, stood in for London, Holland and Paris. The costumes, furniture and production design were faithful to historic details, down to the period-correct nails used to hold floor planks in place.
Beyond the hardships of daily life in the period, viewers will take away the huge risk of the moment — the idea that, at so many points, things could have gone differently. The building sentiment against the British crown, the call for revolution, the concept of a Constitution — all evolved with uncertainty and against all odds. Who knows how it might have turned out?
In this modern political year, when the citizenry is free to assume a constitutional crisis isn’t in the offing, it’s fitting to honor the good luck, timing and brilliant foresight of the people who first put the wild idea on paper.
The grit of the people and the grittiness of the age are emphasized here, distinguishing this project from the generic Fourth of July retelling Americans remember from school books. Just as “Deadwood” painted the Wild West as filthier than a cowboy movie, “John Adams” depicts the revolutionaries of 1776 as flawed, sweaty eccentrics acting on hunches as they fumble through muddy history. There’s Abigail on the floor with the kids making gunshot, there’s John trekking on horseback from Boston to Philadelphia, solo in the snow. Everywhere there are rotten teeth.
The dangerous, dirty, disease-filled conditions of the time and the push against the authorities are painted with awful clarity, while the language of the Adamses, in letter and in speech, retains a wonderful formality.
To give audiences their premium cable money’s worth, horribly vivid scenes of a man being tarred-and-feathered and a bloody ship-board amputation remind us this is HBO, not broadcast TV.
The saga opens with the Boston Massacre and Adams agreeing to provide a legal defense for the British soldiers who fired on a mob of colonists. Chosen for his reputation for impartiality (“I am for the law,” he states), he does the job, then decompresses at night, wigless by candlelight, seeking Abigail’s wise counsel.
Over-the-top Ben Franklin, played with fitting fanfare by Tom Wilkinson (“Michael Clayton”), is seen coining phrases at a mad clip.
“Fish and guests stink after three days,” and so on. The character easily eclipses Adams.
Historians, amateur and otherwise, will bicker over HBO’s portrayal of this odd little man. Is enough attention paid to his cockiness, his desire to be appointed chief executive for life? Still, the hours are worth the investment.
McCullough’s 2001 book “John Adams” won the Pulitzer Prize. Expect the adaptation by Tom Hanks and Gary Goetzman to win prizes just as their “Band of Brothers” did in 2002.
Joanne Ostrow’s column appears Tuesday, Friday and Sunday: 303-954-1830 or jostrow@denverpost.com
