The Farnsworth Invention

written by Aaron Sorkin
directed by Des McAnuff
starring Hank Azaria, Jimmi Simpson, Alexandra Wilson
showtimes: ongoing

Music Box Theatre
239 West 45th Street, btw Broadway and 8th Ave.
Tel. 800-432-7250
farnsworthonbroadway.com


Aaron Sorkin, a man who fell in love with the sound of dialogue, has written some of the most brilliant pieces of entertainment out there. “The Farnsworth Invention,” however, isn’t one of them.

As a play based on the creation of television, “The Farnsworth Invention” is right up Sorkin’s ally. Even so, Sorkin’s intention to reveal how this multi-billion dollar industry began, falls flat in production.

Hank Azaria plays David Sarnoff, the president of RCA Radio-the man who single-handedly seized control of the nascent television industry. And it is Sarnoff that we see first.

 Beginning the show with a direct address to the audience, Sarnoff insinuates that he is the character who holds the power. Yet, Sarnoff’s power assertions in his “breaking of the fourth wall commentaries” do not serve to present him as a foe to be reckoned with. Instead, they grow stale quickly and force the audience to tune out.

Azaria, a respected and beloved actor does what he can with the part, creating a believable, tyrannical businessman at the top of his game. Yet, while he imbues the character with energy and zeal, Sarnoff’s thick skin prevents much humanity or vulnerability from coming fourth. Still, with the amount of stale language Azaria has to muddle through in this role, he does a descent job.

Sarnoff’s seeming rival and opposite, Philo T. Farnsworth, played by Jimmi Simpson, a blond, blue-eyed genius wandering across the stage in an uncouth, crumpled suit, shows promise, and there is nothing over dramatized or undesirable about his performance.  Yet, there is also nothing especially appealing or worthy of remembrance.

Farnsworth is a workaholic slash starving artist type attempting to create and be taken seriously for his brilliant pursuits, one of which is the first ever completely electronic television. Yet, as a result of his preoccupation with inventing, Farnsworth appears emotionally stunted and detached.  So, while this may be appropriate for an obsessed inventor, and, therefore, a correct character choice, it is not exceptionally entertaining.

In fact, the audience hardly registers when a tragedy befalls Farnsworth and his family late in the second act. The one humane relationship-worthy section of the entire play, and it is glossed over with more heady dialogue.

It seems as if Sorkin’s love for the sound of words caught up with him here. It’s as if, while writing this piece, Sorkin became so enthralled in the banter of scientific jargon that he forgot to focus on the storyline.

As a result, the entire play, especially the first half, seems jumbled, rushed and confused. Most of the time is spent, not analyzing or relating to the relationships being constructed or the plot, but rather to deciphering who is who and making sense of what is being said. Quite frankly, the amount of energy spent weeding out the extraneous information along with the extraneous language, is exhausting.

Thank goodness for Alexandra Wilson, without whom of which I may have left the theatre. As Pem Farnsworth and Simpson’s wife, Wilson carries a much-needed energy into the room late in the first act. Like a breath of fresh air after all the dry intellectual babble, Wilson navigates from her heart. Though her character calls for this, while neither Azaria’s nor Simpson’s do, Wilson’s performance gives some spice to the production, and her stage time seem much too brief, as do all the female roles in this male heavy production.

As for the set, it is more metaphorically interesting then visually stimulating, but it fits the piece. Predominantly red, white and black, the entire set slides together in angular, square formations. The metaphor? A television box set that simultaneously acts as a self-imposed prison.

The severe line-symmetry created suggests a stringent atmosphere that seems too clean, too perfect, too austere, suffocating. Actually, the imagery parallels David Sarnoff’s character-tone, thereby once again suggesting the world being projected to us belongs to Sarnoff.

Farnsworth’s statement suggesting one must “break an image down into lines in order to scan it,” sums the machinations of “The Farnsworth Invention” up in a nutshell.  Though television may work by breaking its necessary components down into lines and particles, doing so in a theatrical venue is not a smart move.

So, while this piece of “art” may be a valiant attempt at melding metaphor into reality, it is just that, an attempt.  The lack of humanity, climax, and conflict leaves only a blank screen, fuzzy with an inconsistent picture.



© Danielle Martino 2007



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