California Gov. Gavin Newsom’s second inauguration day was as picture perfect as a politician could hope.

Hand-in-hand with First Partner Jennifer Siebel Newsom, surrounded by his charming children, the man with the good hair marched across Sacramento’s Tower Bridge on his way to the Capitol. Sunlight spilled though clouds that thoughtfully parted for his big day, as photographers captured the carefully orchestrated moment reminiscent of Barack Obama’s march across the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Alabama — itself a commemoration of the civil rights march there in 1965.

Then Newsom discreetly slid into an SUV, bypassing the last blocks of walking. He reappeared on a cleverly crafted round stage that made the crowd look huge, American flags draped at every camera angle, as he gave a speech to usher in his fifth year on the job.

“In our finest hours, California has been freedom’s force multiplier, protecting liberty from a rising tide of oppression taking root in statehouses — weakness, masquerading as strength. Small men in big offices,” he told the crowd. “More than any people, in any place, California has bridged the historical expanse between freedom for some, and freedom for all.”

Alas, if only Newsom enjoyed some of that freedom instead of constantly being bound by his own image.

But our governor seems controlled by his need to control, never letting his guard down even in this hand-picked crowd, billed as the People’s March.

It could have more aptly been named the Certain People’s March, a made-for-television special.

The media was instructed to huddle at one end of the bridge while Newsom and the crowd gathered on the other side. With dire warnings — including the threat that our press passes could be revoked for future events if we disobeyed — we were allowed a few quick pictures as Newsom approached. Then we had to clear the way, no questions, and absolutely no joining the stream of people as they passed by.

Now, you may not care how the press was treated, and fair enough. But it goes to the heart of that need to control and a focus on appearances.

For the good of California and his own political ambitions, this term he should focus on being a little messier, a little bolder and little less concerned with how it all looks.

Newsom has every reason to loosen up this term. He’s earned it.

He beat a recall in the midst of a pandemic, when a lot of folks were mad and beleaguered. He’s got a campaign chest so full it could make a railroad baron blush, and he skated into a reelection so easy most of us barely noticed he was running.

Still, despite Californians general approval, Newsom hasn’t made that all-important leap from competent to inspiring for many Californians.

But Newsom’s speech Friday, the most personal he has ever given, showed awareness that he lacks the kind of emotion from many constituents. And it showed a desire to cultivate it.

He delved deeper into a personal, humanizing story than he’s ever done before. He spoke about his father, “the judge, guilty because he had left” the family, and his mother, Tessa, “busy juggling three jobs.” He brought up his dyslexia, which he has spoken of many times, but went deeper into how it made him “fake stomachaches and dizziness” to ditch school.

He revealed a different narrative than the rich-boy persona that has dogged him, enshrined in part by his own reserve, and it felt as genuine as Schwarzenegger’s giant stogies or Brown’s beloved pups.

The guy with the divorced parents is more interesting, and more powerful, than the guy with the perfect hair.

Let’s hope we see more of him.

Anita Chabria is a Los Angeles Times columnist. ©2023 Los Angeles Times. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency.