HBO, the network that brought you trigger-happy mobsters, sweaty Roman warriors and sex-obsessed Manhattanites, now proudly presents the rip-roaring adventures of ... a Founding Father.

Anyone expecting that "John Adams," a nine-hour miniseries stretched over six consecutive Sundays, will expose a man who curses like Al Swearengen of "Deadwood" or bed-hops like Bill Henrickson of "Big Love" is in for a major letdown. The nation's second president was most dynamic in stuffy, endless boardroom meetings, stayed unabashedly devoted to his wife and possessed about as much glamour as Paul Giamatti, who, as luck would have it, plays the title role.

It's a bold gamble -- one that, at least initially, pays off.

It helps that the project, co-produced by Tom Hanks, is based on David McCullough's Pulitzer-Prize winning book, which came about as close to pop-culture acceptance as a political biography can get. It also helps that director Tom Hooper (who also directed Helen Mirren's "Elizabeth I") has assembled an all-star cast of Oscar nominees and top-notch character actors who breathe life into what could have been the dullest history class you've ever taken.

Part One, in which Adams defends a band of Redcoats accused of a mass killing in the 1770 Boston Massacre, plays out like an excellent episode of "Law & Order," with Giamatti bringing so much fire and brimstone to his courtroom arguments that he comes across like that series' Jack McCoy operating on six cups of espresso.

Part Two, which focuses on the creation of the Declaration of Independence, also manages to turn a political debate between powdered-wig statesmen into white-knuckle action, playing out like a continuous loop of Tom Cruise taking on Jack Nicholson in "A Few Good Men." (Ben Franklin's quip that "We will all hang together or surely we will all hang separately" is just as juicy as "You can't handle the truth.")

Then there's the relationship between John and Abigail, who's played by the always beguiling Laura Linney. Like so many talented actresses, she's been burdened far too many times with the role of the dutiful wife, but she always brings a passion and intelligence to these typically thankless roles. She has a dozen different squinty smiles, each reflecting anything from skepticism to unadulterated lust. Her scenes with Giamatti sizzle.

In a cinematic world, the continuing chapters would have the Adamses going off to discover the original Magna Carta on Skull Island with a couple of tense buggy chases and a pet monkey thrown in for good measure.

Alas, this is not a cinematic world. Parts Three and Four, airing over the next two Sundays, drag just as Adams' political career did.

During the Revolutionary War, he finds himself shipped to Europe, far from any sort of action, where he practically withers away, first in the superficial world of Parisian politics and later by a nasty cold that almost kills him. It's an important period in his story -- but it's also less than thrilling.

No history student should skip ahead, but those watching only for high drama might want to take a couple weeks off and return on April 6, which picks up with the presidency of George Washington (David Morse sporting a prosthetic nose that deserves its own billing). I haven't seen these episodes, but there's much to look forward to: Adams' own presidency, his fight with onetime friend Thomas Jefferson and the passing of Abigail (I can't wait to see what smile Linney uses on her deathbed).

Heck, if the storytellers do as well as they did with the first two chapters, they might not even need a pet monkey.

njustin@startribune.com • 612-673-7431