by Angela Pandolfo Roy Monday, March 17th, 2008  8 comments

Pig Vomit, Founding Father

I want to say straight off that I completely disagreed with the New York Times’ assertion that Paul Giamatti was miscast as John Adams in the HBO miniseries of the same name. I know a few columnists have remarked that they kept waiting for Adams to announce that he wasn’t drinking any f*cking Merlot, but if Giamatti had indeed been wrong for or distracting in the part, I would have noticed more than anyone, because to me, he will always be Pig Vomit. And if I didn’t see Pig Vomit in Philadelphia encouraging Thomas Jefferson to write the Declaration of Independence, then chances are Giamatti lost himself in Adams. Just sayin’ — who ya gonna believe, me or the lyin’ Times?

I came to “John Adams” completely unfamiliar with the beloved David McCullough source material, relatively unfamiliar with Adams’ life in general, and, truth be told, a little squiffy on the history of the whole period, being 22 years removed from junior year social studies and all. And because I am a nerdy geeky dweeb who loved school the way normal late ’80s kids loved Atari and AC/DC, I relished the opportunity to relive Ms. Trunfio’s American History 1. So I rushed home from Italian Sunday dinner last night, got on my slippers and jammies, and curled up on the couch with Big One, who is well on his way to nerdy geeky dweebdom, to immerse ourselves in the Revolution.

Alas, I lost Big One exactly five minutes in, at the Boston Massacre. My son — who has been known to stealthily play at his cousin’s house video games that feature all manner of monsters, killers, and other unsavory characters of whom his mother heartily disapproves — was afraid of the Redcoats. Seriously. He dove under the blanket and said, “Mommy, may I be excused? The guys with the weird guns are scary.” Since Little One was already asleep and NotClooney was forming his fantasy baseball team, I watched Episode 1 on my own, to be joined by NotClooney for Episode 2.

Our overall Pandolfo Roy grade was a strong B or perhaps B+. The episodes were a bit stolid at certain points, and a bit too much like Ms. Trunfio’s history lessons at other points, but the script soared whenever characters discussed, or situations depicted, the tremendous promise of the American idea. I thought George Washington’s Botox was incredibly distracting, though the actor portraying him did a fine job, reconstructed face notwithstanding. The Thomas Jefferson character stole every scene he was in, even when — or perhaps especially when — he wasn’t talking. I was embarrassed that my native New York and my current New Jersey were such weenies about signing on to the rebellion (though that Dickinson fellow from Pennsylvania and the Rutledge fop from South Carolina were certainly more passive and mewling).

But since this is a parenting blog, an appropriate angle to review about the first two episodes of “John Adams” is the characterization of family life in immediately pre-Revolutionary America, and how the political became personal for the entire Adams family. Adams’ relationship with his wife, Abigail (the excellent Laura Linney), was shown as a true partnership, in all its depth, texture, and occasional messiness. The micro picture of the Adams household was always at least as complex, portentous, and vital as the macro world of the colonies’ quest. The series, I thought, expertly balanced the unique and endless import of this moment in history with universal and timeless scenes of family in America, where parents are alternately affectionate, impatient, explosive, demanding, indulgent, playful, silly, and deadly serious, and where spouses know when wise counsel will be appreciated and when it will not.

The scenes at the Adams’ Massachusetts farmhouse when Adams himself was in Philadelphia at the First and Second Continental Congresses had even greater impact, I thought. Abigail alone had to keep her four children safe despite a trade embargo that severely limited food and supplies (the scene depicting the Adams children making bullets was a jolt); regular British shellings in the Boston area; and a smallpox outbreak. Indeed, Abigail’s decision to inoculate herself and the children was heart-wrenching, because inoculation was so dangerous back then. When her daughter later came down with small pox, probably due to the inoculation itself, any parent watching could imagine the desperation, the steeliness, the resolve, the heartbreak, the guilt, and the love that played out perfectly over Linney’s face in a short span of a couple of minutes. The character had a great line of dialog with John Adams during his trip home between the two Continental Congresses, when he spoke of living politics. She reminded him that women lived politics, too: “When I go to the cupboard and find no coffee, no sugar, no pins, and no meat, am I not living politics?”

So the family scenes were my favorite parts of “John Adams,” though by no means the only noteworthy parts. The tarring and feathering of the British official insisting that the disputed tea shipment (of Boston Tea Party fame) be unloaded was disturbing in the extreme. The portrayal of the Northern colonies’ complicated views, and ultimate acceptance, of slavery in the new United States was a cool reminder of political expediencies. And near the end of Episode 2, when the colonies finally agreed on the motion for revolution against Britain, we heard not cheers but complete silence, for a very long moment. The very effective subsequent scene was a public reading of the Declaration of Independence, which was the penultimate scene of the episode.

Episodes 1 and 2 of “John Adams” will be rerun throughout the week on HBO and are available on HBO on Demand. Episode 3 airs Sunday at 9 p.m.

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