‘Franklinland’ Review: A Founding Father, but Not the Best Dad

Lloyd Suh’s “Franklinland,” now running at the Ensemble Studio Theater in Manhattan, finds Benjamin Franklin (Thomas Jay Ryan) at a crossroads: balancing his roles as a founding father of a young nation and floundering father to his naïve son, William (Noah Keyishian). In six tight scenes, Suh whisks us through three decades of their turbulent relationship, starting in 1752 when William is an eager young adult and ending with the men at odds in 1785.

The result is a nimble period comedy — with enough spoonfuls of droll humor to help the history lessons go down — but Suh’s play is just as concerned with a more timeless struggle: the friction of unmet expectations that can divide parents and their children.

“Franklinland,” developed through the EST/Sloan Project in 2011, had its premiere in 2018 at Chicago’s Jackalope Theater. It shows the playwright’s early fascination with great historical figures and movements and the personal wreckage left in their wake. These themes resurface in works like “The Chinese Lady” and “The Far Country,” a 2023 Pulitzer Prize finalist in Drama.

Suh paints a narcissistic portrait of Benjamin. His obsession with progress — first scientific, then political — is exemplified by his purchase of 20,000 acres in Nova Scotia (the real Franklin did own land there), with the intent of building a “playground of imagination and possibility” he calls Franklinland.

Though Benjamin’s inventions — harnessing lightning for electricity, creating bifocals, adding flexibility to the urinary catheter — are undeniable societal improvements, his work sessions with William consist of bullying jokes at his son’s expense. This is not your grandmother’s Benjamin Franklin. In Ryan’s mischievous hands, the old man is downright sassy — quick with an eye-roll and oozing condescension. The actor’s antics convey a man obsessed with control, but blind to the familial cost.

As a young William, Keyishian is an awkward goof who begins the play unexceptional and prosaic. But by the middle of the show, Suh levels the playing field. William — now in his 30s — is appointed royal governor of colonial New Jersey, though his moments of self-empowerment are weighed down by spurts of pedantic dialogue. Veering away from the playfulness we’ve enjoyed so far, the script resorts to playing out a melodramatic truth we’ve already gleaned: life is cold in Benjamin Franklin’s shadow.