The Sebastian Stan Character Comparison: Jack Benjamin and T.J. Hammond

I recently watched the short-lived series Political Animals, mainly because of its knockout cast including Sigourney Weaver, Ciarán Hinds, Sebastian Stan, and James Wolk.  I liked the show, despite its problems, and especially enjoyed Sebastian Stan’s T.J.  I always like Stan’s work, but here, I’m especially taken by the parallels between T.J. and my first and still-favorite Stan character, Jack from Kings.  (Character-related spoilers for both shows to follow.)

The same one-line description fits both characters:  the (gay) younger twin son of a world leader.  Jack’s father is a king while T.J.’s was president (with his mother planning her second attempt,) so the stories play out differently – Jack’s plot, for instance, involves issues of succession that T.J.’s doesn’t.  Still, it’s pretty close.  Both are closer to their mothers and uneasy with their fathers – former president Bud shifts between dismissiveness and tough love, and King Silas is downright ugly.  Both are regarded as less put-together than their older twins; T.J.’s brother Doug is a hard-working politico who ran his mother’s first campaign, and Jack’s sister Michelle makes frequent legislative appeals before Silas’s council.  The contrast between T.J. and Doug is starker, since T.J. is an addict recently out of rehab who hits up his more financially-stable family members for investment in his latest pursuit.  Jack, an army major, is better positioned, but he’s tarnished by misplaced blame for an ambush on his unit that resulted in his capture, and he’s generally thought more frivolous than the dedicated Michelle.

What interests me most, though, are the ways the shows deal with the characters’ sexuality.  In both cases, it’s a little uncomfortable because the straight sibling is clearly painted as the “good” twin, and Jack and T.J.’s orientations are involved in that dynamic to an extent.  However, it’s the extreme demands of being the gay son of a king/president, not being gay itself, that causes most of their issues.  Jack is desperately closeted, masquerading as a womanizing party boy for the paparazzi to deflect suspicion.  Neither of his parents are what you’d call allies.  Silas throws Jack’s secret in his face, threatens his future as king, and makes some truly awful homophobic insinuations.  When Jack, backed into a corner, confides the truth to Queen Rose, she slaps him in the face and then tries to make up for it with a hug.  No wonder he’s fears the throne will be given to Michelle and golden-boy David, why he thinks David is trying to steal what should be his and looks for unscrupulous means of ensuring his place.

By turns, T.J’s sexuality seems a non-issue at first.  He makes no secret of it, and his whole family is supportive.  However, the cheery veneer is quick to crack.  Would-be president Elaine, his mother, tells a grasping reporter, “You will never know the vitriol, the evil he suffered when he came out against his will as a boy in the White House.”  The words “against his will” aren’t explained, but they fascinate me.  Did a scandal-chaser snap an illuminating photo of young T.J.?  Was it a political maneuver by Bud, pulling his gay son from the closet to show how progressive he was?  The first openly-gay child of a president, T.J.’s life was a much bigger media circus than that of most presidential progeny, and Elaine’s words suggest that, though his parents’ careers weren’t adversely affected, T.J. was the target of a lot of ugliness.  Suddenly, we see why T.J. couldn’t “handle” the White House fishbowl like Doug could, why he started abusing drugs.  The family’s upbeat comments and tongue-in-cheek jokes start to look like forced grins, loudly being okay with T.J. because no one wants to talk about the mud he was dragged through as a child.  Do they feel guilty that he was thrown to the wolves in a way that they weren’t?