The Farnsworth Invention – currently running on Broadway

Aaron Sorkin’s The Farnsworth Invention begins with David Sarnoff addressing the audience to explain a few rudimentary facts. He mentions, for instance, that light bounces, which is a vital component of making television work. But he concludes with something a little more portentous: “By the way, the ends do justify the means; that’s what means are for.” These ominous words begin Sorkin’s meditation on genius, greed, and progress, a story that blends fact and fiction into a fascinating and entertaining portrayal of history.

A Tale of Two Dreamers
To tell the story of television, Sorkin relies on the two characters that were essential to its development. The aforementioned Sarnoff, played with gruff gusto by Hank Azaria, is a Russian immigrant whose family fled their homeland after the Tsar’s men burned down their home. He moves to America and, through equal parts luck and initiative, manages to work his way up the Radio Corporation of America ladder. In addition to pioneering the use of radio for weather reports and information, Sarnoff starts the National Broadcasting Company and soon turns his attention to the new medium of television. His obsessive desire to break new ground inevitably brings him into conflict with television’s unlikely inventor, a 21-year-old savant named Philo T. Farnsworth.

The audience learns that Farnsworth, played by the engaging and talented Jimmi Simpson, was a farm kid from Rigby, Idaho with a preternatural affinity for the sciences. With little formal education, Farnsworth moves to San Francisco and, with the help of a motley team including his wife, brother-in-law, and a refrigerator repairman, manages to achieve a feat not realized by the world’s greatest physicists: He transmits a moving picture. Soon, however, Sarnoff’s men replicate the design, leaving Farnsworth, already dependent on alcohol and hopelessly distraught over the death of his infant son, to battle for recognition for his invention.

Just the Facts
It seems inevitable that Sorkin would choose to chronicle the invention of television. Television is a medium that served as the subject of two of his television series, Sports Night and Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. Sorkin attacks the narrative with his characteristic style: fast exchanges, witty repartee, and stirring monologues.

However, The Farnsworth Invention differs from Sorkin’s previous efforts in one very important way. In the past, Sorkin has sought to simplify complex matters for public consumption, with mixed results. His West Wing is highly regarded not only as a television show but as a civics lesson, and Sorkin is credited with introducing many Americans to the fascinating world of American politics. Yet his depiction of the arming of the Afghan mujahideen in Charlie Wilson’s War was criticized by some as being an irresponsible rewriting of history. In this play, Sorkin avoids any sort of simplification. There is a constant barrage of facts, from specific details on the functioning of a television to Sarnoff’s relationships with the chiefs of AT&T and Westinghouse.

Luckily for Sorkin, this is not a debilitating flaw. Though it is easy to get lost in the torrent of facts and dates, Sorkin creates vivid and empathetic characters. Farnsworth and Sarnoff are not merely cardboard cutouts of historical figures. Sorkin treats them as real people, and the performances from Azaria and Simpson breathe life into the main characters. We feel Farnsworth’s desperation yet also understand why Sarnoff works so hard to bring him down. “He was going to do a lot more,” Sarnoff says of Farnsworth, “but I burned his house down so he wouldn’t burn mine down first.” Individuals who commit corporate espionage are not usually objects of sympathy; but we feel for Sarnoff nevertheless.

Handling the Truth
Sarnoff and Farnsworth, despite the incredible impact of their lives and work, are not well known. Sorkin relishes in this uncertainty, especially with regard to their early years. He chooses to employ a dual narrative style, with Farnsworth narrating Sarnoff’s life and vice versa. This technique allows each character to comment on the myths and misconceptions of the other. At one point, Farnsworth tells a story about Sarnoff’s youth. He explains that as a young man working for the Marconi Wireless Telegraph Company in 1912, Sarnoff was the sole operator who learned the names of the survivors of the Titanic. On stage, we see the young Sarnoff exhaustively shouting out the names. It is a charming and fascinating anecdote in Sarnoff’s life—that is, until Farnsworth sardonically points out that telegraph offices were not open on Sundays, the day the ship sank, thus rendering Sarnoff’s story as false. The mogul’s flustered and unconvincing response serves to remind the audience how often rumor and hearsay can find their way into collective memory.

At times, the main characters even engage in their own re-writing of history. As the court cases meant to decide who invented television drag on, Sarnoff finally meets Farnsworth. In a particularly poignant exchange, the two shake hands, and Farnsworth wishes Sarnoff, the new guardian of television, good luck. Sarnoff then steps forward to admit that he never actually met Farnsworth; the exchange was a figment of his imagination. Once again, Sorkin demonstrates that the line between fact and fiction is blurred.

What Might Have Been
Never one to be content with superficiality, Sorkin uses the play’s finale to explore some larger themes. In the last few minutes, Sarnoff addresses the audience one final time. In a thrilling speech that only Sorkin could write, Sarnoff places the invention of television in the larger saga of human progress. “Man was meant to be an explorer,” Sarnoff asserts. He then sets the stage for the show’s final scene, a “romantic dream” that he occasionally has. In this fantasy, Farnsworth is in a bar in 1969, scribbling a new invention on cocktail napkins while Apollo 11 blasts into space. The inventor stares transfixed as the countdown commences, and Sarnoff joins him in his awe. At that moment, both men become pioneers, part of the larger tradition of American innovators and voyagers. It is great theater and an incredibly moving conclusion.

The Farnsworth Invention will not be remembered as Aaron Sorkin’s greatest or most notable work. But the play combines the best of his style with a wonderful story and some extraordinary historical figures. It is true life as both inspiration and tragedy, a story that explores the past while celebrating a promising but uncertain future.]]>