Dec. 4 (Bloomberg) -- ``The Farnsworth Invention'' brings Aaron Sorkin back to Broadway 18 years after his play ``A Few Good Men'' catapulted him to Hollywood. It should come as little surprise that the creator of ``The West Wing'' remains obsessed with character, especially the character of men and women who have an impact on the world.

The story of Philo T. Farnsworth would appear ready-made for him. As a boy genius growing up on a potato farm in Idaho in the 1920s, Farnsworth conceives a way to transmit images electronically: television. At the same time, actual grown-up scientists are stalled in their attempts to do the same thing mechanically.

With the help of a minuscule team, a devoted wife and a pair of investors, the young Farnsworth develops a crude television prototype. His nemesis is David Sarnoff, son of Russian refugees who has risen to the presidency of Radio Corp. of America. Sarnoff is determined to develop and control the patents on television.

In the end, Farnsworth beats him to the punch. And in the end, it doesn't much matter; Sarnoff and RCA prevail. After all, when was the last time you went searching for a great deal on a Farnsworth Corp. TV set?

Inspired Idea

Sorkin's inspired idea is to have Farnsworth and Sarnoff narrate one another's story, which they do with considerable poignancy and humor. The all-too-frequent passages of bald exposition merely make us hungrier for the scenes in which the players in this melodrama interact. It's to the great credit of director Des McAnuff that while only Farnsworth and Sarnoff are fully drawn characters, several others come reasonably and entertainingly to life.

McAnuff deftly pushes actors to dig down deep while advancing the plot at breakneck speed. ``The Farnsworth Invention'' unfolds in a series of swift-moving, efficiently staged scenes -- just like TV! -- that shift between Farnsworth's bare-bones lab in San Francisco and Sarnoff's digs in the newly risen Rockefeller Center. Set designer Klara Zieglerova manages to stay out of the director's way stylishly, with a bi-level set that relies primarily on flying panels and furniture on casters moved about by the actors.

Those actors are stellar, beginning with Jimmi Simpson in the star-making title role. Simpson perfectly captures Farnsworth's exuberant creativity and reckless detachment. He's matched by Hank Azaria's ingratiating Sarnoff, a shark of a captain of industry.

Corporate Chicanery

Alexandra Wilson breathes life into the role of Farnsworth's wife, Pem, who otherwise would be a caricature of the long-suffering helpmeet. After Sarnoff's corporate chicanery has led to Farnsworth's undoing, Sorkin imagines an encounter between the mogul and the wife, who tells him about one of her husband's remarkable inventions at age 12.

``What were you doing when you were 12, Mr. Sarnoff?'' she wonders.

``Well, that would've been two years after my parents and I were run out our house by Cossacks, Mrs. Farnsworth,'' he replies. ``So I was teaching myself how to speak English.''

Sorkin seems only tangentially interested in the ironies of the battle to control the future of TV. Sarnoff went on to found NBC and made the airwaves safe for Uncle Miltie. Farnsworth died of pneumonia, likely the result of his alcoholism, in obscurity.

A final scene imagined by Sarnoff finds Farnsworth in a bar, watching the launch of Apollo 11 on July 16, 1969. It's a moment when two men's shared dream merges with a dream of mankind, and it's heartbreaking.

At the Music Box Theatre, 239 W. 45th St. Information: +1-212-239-6200; http://www.telecharge.com.

(Jeremy Gerard is an editor for Bloomberg News. The opinions expressed are his own.)

To contact the writer on this story: Jeremy Gerard in New York at jgerard2@bloomberg.net.

Last Updated: December 4, 2007 00:04 EST