Michael Douglas’s ‘Franklin’: Saucy Statesman
New Apple miniseries focuses on Franklin’s diplomatic achievements.
BITS OF FRANKLINIAN LEVITY are sprinkled throughout Franklin, the new Apple miniseries directed by Tim Van Patten (Masters of the Air and The Sopranos). The series primarily focuses on the drama and intrigue of America’s most famous diplomat. While the show’s overarching plot is Franklin’s eight-year mission to secure French support for the American Revolution, it would be almost impossible to portray Benjamin Franklin without some witticisms. Michael Douglas, the only American cast member, doesn’t look much like Franklin—he chose to forgo prosthetics—but he brings Franklin’s personality and humor to life: Within the first fifteen minutes, Franklin philosophizes, “It’s remarkable how one’s outlook can be improved by the passing of wind.” Who’d expect anything less from the author of the essay “Fart Proudly”?
Franklin provides a surprisingly accurate portrayal of its subject’s life in France and the secrecy surrounding French foreign aid. Unlike Ken Burns’s 2022 documentary Benjamin Franklin, the miniseries is not a full-life biography, nor does it center on Franklin’s fame as the “lightning tamer.” Instead, like the 2005 book on which it’s based, A Great Improvisation: Franklin, France, and the Birth of a Nation by Pulitzer laureate Stacy Schiff, it depicts how Franklin used his scientific fame as a political conduit to seduce (literally and figuratively) the French nobility. Anyone who enjoyed Franklin’s scenes in HBO’s John Adams miniseries, played by Tom Wilkinson, will be sure to enjoy this more detailed treatment of Franklin’s life in France.
True to life, Franklin really was “the only American the French wanna see.” Interestingly, while many of Franklin’s most famous accomplishments—Poor Richard’s Almanac, the “Join or Die” cartoon, the electricity experiments, the glass armonica, the Franklin stove, the establishment of the first public library, the founding of what would become the University of Pennsylvania—came before independence, and were therefore the accomplishments of a British subject, his diplomatic achievements were undeniably American.
Franklin derives its drama and suspense from emphasizing how easily his mission could have failed. The French government—a powerful absolute monarchy atop an entrenched aristocracy—was hesitant to help the revolutionary Americans, even to gain advantage over the British. Douglas reproduces Franklin’s cleverness in his secret talks with the Comte de Vergennes, played by Thibault de Montalembert, appealing to the French desire to avenge the humiliation of losing thousands of square miles of territory in North America to Great Britain in the Seven Years’ War. Franklin knows how to use his skills as a printer, his scientific fame, and the French fascination with his fur hat to put pressure on the French government, culminating in the Treaty of Alliance between France and the United States in 1778.
There are, of course, some artistic licenses taken in the series that may frustrate sticklers for historical accuracy. Silas Deane, the first American sent by the Secret Committee of Correspondence to France to elicit aid, is notably absent. But Beaumarchais, the lively, enthusiastic, and resourceful aid to the king, features prominently. Admittedly, Deane floundered a great deal in France, seeing as he could not speak the language, so decisions for American resources were made almost exclusively by Beaumarchais before Franklin’s arrival.
The real Franklin was accompanied on his mission by his two grandsons, but only William Temple Franklin (played by Noah Jupe) is featured in the series. Notably absent is Benjamin Franklin Bache, aka “Lighting Rod Junior,” but the loss of this other grandson is minor, as he was only 7 years old when he first went to France, lived the majority of time away at boarding schools, and went to Geneva in 1779, not to rejoin his grandfather in France until 1783.
There is also little evidence that these secret conversations we see between Vergennes and Franklin took place early on in Franklin’s mission—but the space left by the absence of historical evidence gives room for some of the most interesting and immersive scenes between two powerful figures.
The most dramatized portion of the series—thus far, anyway—is the portrayal of Franklin’s romantic relationship with Madame Brillon de Jouy (Ludivine Sagnier). While Franklin and Brillon shared an intimate emotional friendship, the trailer suggests the two will have a more physical relationship later on in the series. The real Brillon, however, rejected Franklin’s physical advances. Instead, she called him her dear “Papa,” and established a familial bond with the lecherous American to protect her reputation and feminine honor.
Brillon also played a significant role in enabling Franklin to engage in French society while being publicly ignored by the French government. This fact is barely hinted at in a few scenes in the second episode. Still, leaning into the romantic and sexual tension between the two characters and alluding to Franklin’s weaknesses for beautiful French women makes for good TV.
LAST YEAR, IN RESPONSE to the teapot tempests over the historical inaccuracies of Ridley Scott’s Napoleon, David Head observed,
In grad school fifteen years ago, I assumed I’d devote a lot of my teaching to unraveling myths from popular culture and complicating lessons learned in school. . . . I could once count on students remembering something about the Louisiana Purchase’s connection to Napoleon’s ambitions, the disaster in Russia paralleling the German offensive in WWII, and the Battle of Waterloo being a synonym for defeat.
No longer.
“I’ll take the new Napoleon, warts and all,” he decided, “and teach from it.”
Franklin’s alterations of the historical record may frustrate purists but its drama, intrigue, and sex will pull in viewers who might otherwise have never known the importance of Franklin’s role in France. This series will remind Americans of a part of our nation’s history that too many have forgotten: We didn’t win our freedom without foreign assistance. France’s role in supplying arms, munitions, and men—especially the famous Marquis de Lafayette, played by Théodore Pellerin—was instrumental to the success of the American Revolution.