A defense of Paul Giamatti's portrayal of John Adams

I just began watching the TV mini-series "John Adams", spanning 7 episodes (covering 50 years) tonight. Paul Giamatti’s portrayal of the 2nd president was jaw-dropping. But this blog isn’t going to be a vehicle of praise, but a critique of a criticism. Alessandra Stanley wrote a piece for the New York Times called “Blow Hard, Patriot, President”, which argues that Giamatti’s performance was weak, and that John Adams is the Achilles heel of “John Adams”. Though she may be right, and I profoundly disagree, I found her reasons inadequate.

The real president John Adams was an amazing man among amazing men. He did have a complicated personality filled with overt and latent contradictions. The overall canvass of his personality is brilliantly and lucidly explored in the biography ‘John Adams’, by renowned biographer David McCollough. In the show, you have box seats to the Continental Congress itself. Passions soar, debates rage, and politics smolder. You can see the sagacious humility of Washington, the pugnacious feistiness of John Adams, the reserved and quiet wisdom of Thomas Jefferson, and the wit of a Renaissance man, Dr. Benjamin Franklin.

But what exactly does Stanley think is wrong with the Giamatti performance? First, she thinks that Abigail is reduced to one-word summations of character traits in her husband in an effort to underline some unnoticed – because not sufficiently acted – mannerism. Well, I don’t agree at all. Abigail talks a lot. I mean, just watch the show: she and John have lengthy discussions about a variety of subjects. It’s just false to say otherwise. But even if she did that, what character trait was trying to be emphasized? Nothing is noted.

She further says, “Mr. Giamatti is a prisoner of a limited range and rubbery, cuddly looks — in 18th-century britches and wigs, he looks like Shrek.” On the contrary, if you read McCollough’s biography, Giamatti’s look is exactly what it was in my imagination. He was short, unseemly, dirty, unbecoming, bald, and pudgy. Giamatti took on this look with perfection. A prisoner of limited range? I beg for examples. He is the stern but affectionate father, the loving husband, the concerned husband, the reluctant politician, the insolent debater, the man of conviction, a rival, a friend, an implacable foe, patriot. What else does Stanley want?

Stanley muses about the bewilderment that viewers (ignorant of the biography) will have at the initial visual shock of seeing a Giamatti portray Adams. All I can say is that ignorance is not bliss. An ignorant critic is a scourge on proper artistic enjoyment. All you have to do is follow the adjectives and match them with the visual appearance you see on screen. If you can’t see it, then you’re either lacking in imagination or comprehension of the language.

The only reason Stanley marshals forth is his bias (which he has the right to have!) for another actor’s role as Adams: William Daniels – who played him in a musical called “1776”. I don’t deny he did great: I do deny the implied notion that Daniels exhausts any and all qualities Adams might have had, or that they were exhausted by a solitary performance over 40 years ago. I haven’t seen the Daniels performance. I don’t need to. What Stanley needs to do is give reasons why Giamatti doesn’t have the “power or the flexibility” to pull it off. An incredulous stare isn’t an argument.

So, I disagree with Stanley. Giamatti was perfect for the role, not only because of the look, but for the tone, even the eyes. They bulge with stress and the tenderness of his voice in a calm moment seems like a hindrance. The resulting paroxysms break through believably. He is a man for the law and when that conviction is breached, his passion fumes. Giamatti’s somewhat calm, reserved, and introverted personality resonates with that "Adams’ drive" and passion in a really insightful way.