Palm Beach Dramaworks has skillfully and compellingly taken
on an American theatrical masterpiece, Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire. This leading regional theatre company has been
in discussion for years debating the readiness to tackle such a monumental play. Now was the time. With their capable staff, technical crew and
resources but particularly in the indefatigable hands of Director J. Barry
Lewis, it was felt that this timeless play could be successfully mounted with
the right cast. No worries there, as
they have brought together actors who deliver with every fiber of their being. It is a rite of passage for the audience, too,
as the drama is high pitched and gut wrenching.
It is a play for all times but perhaps especially these times,
when cultural warfare is underway. Streetcar is a battlefield where the
weak are ravaged by the powerful, where ethereal aspirations are bludgeoned by
the brute force of animal spirit and cultural ignorance. How Williams could be so prescient is the
question I ask myself. Did he see the
Norman Rockwell American Dream devolving after WW II and extrapolate into this
new reality, perhaps his greatest play?
When Stanley Kowalski makes his appearance, he throws a blood-stained
package of meat to his wife, Stella, like a hunter’s “kill”. It immediately establishes one half of the
dramatic equation in the play. The other
half is the arrival of Stella’s sister, Blanche, who appears from a different
era, the antebellum south, in “shock and disbelief” as she tries to negotiate
the symbolic streetcar “Desire,” which runs along Cemetery Road, to find
Stella’s home in “Elysian Fields,” an ironic description of a place Blanche
could never image as her sister’s home. Ironic
too that she comes as a faded shadow of her former self.
So the stage is set for the eventual confrontation
between these two highly charged, but unequal forces. It is Stanley who says to Blanche at the
climax “We've had this date from the beginning.” Williams seems to posit that the Meek will not
inherit the Earth, but instead a dystopian world of carnal pleasure and poker will
prevail, full of pain and alienation.
Williams’ play is set apart from other American classics
by its language. He was a poet at heart
and to listen to the dialogue is akin to being at a free verse poetry reading,
the language exquisite in its own right.
Emblazoned in our collective memory of the play – in fact
initially I overheard an audience member comment (“I don’t remember it that
way”) – is the film version with Marlon Brando reprising his Broadway role as
Stanley and Vivian Leigh reprising her role as Blanche from the London
production. But those memories quickly
fade watching the PBD version; director J. Barry Lewis’ textualist
interpretation of Williams’ work – faithful to the author’s intention -- establishes
a powerful, moving production, with superb acting.
Knowing Kathy McCafferty’s outstanding performances in
past PBD productions Outside Mullingar and Little Foxes, I had expected her to take on the pivotal role of Blanche
with a sense of ownership. And she
does. Perhaps at first one might make
mental comparisons to Vivian Leigh but McCafferty quickly dispels such thoughts
and makes the case for why live theatre is so different than two dimensional
movie depictions.
Annie Grier, Kathy McCafferty |
McCafferty’s Blanche is the nucleus around which the
other major roles orbit, Stanley, Stella, and Mitch. Their interactions become exceptional by McCafferty’s
catalytic performance. She walks a fine
line between fantasy and reality, at times fighting to retain her dignity
confronting Stanley but as the play evolves, McCafferty is in a losing battle,
taking long baths “to calm her nerves” and slipping into dream-like reveries
about her one husband of long ago, a teenage marriage, a boy who was denounced
as a degenerate. She danced with him to
the Varsouviana polka the night of his death and those reveries in her mind
play fragments of the music, and the suicide shot that killed him. He was a poet; he was cultured; he was sensitive:
all the qualities that modern life has increasingly marginalized. Blanche lives in expectation of finding those
traits again in a man who will offer her love and protection, in spite of a
past she wants to forget.
McCafferty leans on her character’s flirtatious
inclinations in her dealings with Mitch and even Stanley. She can turn on the charm and sees it as her
last bastion of youth. That ability
painfully reveals a window into her past though when a young man (John
Campagnuolo, his PBD debut) comes to collect for the newspaper. Alone in the apartment, she toys with him but
finally says to the bewildered young man: “Young man! Young, young, young man! Has anyone ever told you that you look like a
young Prince out of the Arabian Nights?
Well, you do honey lamb! [Brief
pause.] Come here. I want to kiss you, just once, softly and
sweetly on your mouth! [Without waiting
for him to accept, she crosses quickly to him and presses her lips to his.] Now run along, now, quickly! It would be nice to keep you, but I’ve got to
be good – and keep my hands off children.” It is an act of remembrance of things past and
highly effective in the overall drama, foreshadowing what is to come.
Williams increasingly turns from the early realism in the
play to symbolism to make his statement about Blanche’s deteriorating condition
and obsession with death such as the figure of the Mexican seller of flowers
for the dead. Williams even comments on
his dramatic style through Blanche: “I don’t want realism. I want magic.”
McCafferty has the difficult role of portraying Blanche already on the edge, her incredulity at having arrived at this place, at this
moment of her life, and then devolving into complete fantasy. She moves between emotional levels like a
speeding elevator, sensitive to sound, light, sadness, regret, but carrying
some fantastical hopefulness. Her erratic
persona plays out as if she is in a play of her own making. Director J. Barry Lewis choreographs her stage movements
like a trapped animal while emphasizing her melodramatic tendencies. This is clearly a once in a lifetime role for
an actress of unparalleled talent. The
audience is clearly mesmerized by McCafferty’s performance, which by play’s end
left everyone breathless!
Blanche’s first introduction to Stanley is through a
photograph her sister, Stella, hands her of him in his army uniform, Stella
cautioning her sister that she shouldn’t expect him to be like boys they knew
back home at Belle Reve which was the plantation where they grew up and was
squandered by the family, leaving nothing. Stella comments that he is “a different species.”
Danny Gavigan, Annie Grier |
Danny Gavigan, a PBD newcomer, has played Stanley
Kowalski before and he brings with him that experience as well as the necessary
physicality to play the role. He is a
terrifying presence on stage, swallowing up the space and dwarfing everyone
around him. Stanley is given to sudden
bursts of rage, constantly feeling he’s being conned by Blanche, and is intent
on exposing and destroying her. Yet as
much as he is the alpha male, Gavigan cries out “Stella!” while in a prostrate
position. He is totally dependent on Stella
loving him, although he is ruthless in his behavior toward her. It is hard to feel much sympathy toward him,
but his acting is remarkable in portraying that sexually dominant male who
refuses to let anyone best him, in bowling, at work and even when fighting in
the war which perhaps affected his aggressiveness. But it is his nemesis Blanche who threatens
him by stepping between him and his wife, lying about her past and weaving
fantastical tales which literally brings out his savage side.
And it is on his terms that Annie Grier (PBD debut) playing
Stella loves him. Grier’s own web site
mission statement is particularly relevant to playing Stella: “to tell stories
that reveal the human condition as the beautiful, tragic and hilarious mess
that it is”. She’s torn between
supporting her sister, even in some of her fantasies, and placating
Stanley. She is the go-between. Neither work in the end and Grier’s
performance of her failed attempt is sadly reflected in the arms of her
neighbor, Eunice, as Blanche is led away to an institution. Fundamentally, Grier’s Stella is captivated
by Stanley’s brutal sexuality. She gives
a compelling performance steeped in joy of her impending motherhood and
palpable pain in not resolving the hatred between the two people she loves
most.
Brad Makarowski, Kathy McCafferty |
One character bridges both worlds of Stanley and Blanche. Brad Makarowski (PBD debut) plays Mitch, a
well-meaning but flawed character.
Makarowski portrays Mitch as “one of the boys” but he is more than that,
devoted to his mother who is dying, and although having served with Stanley in
the army and being a poker buddy, also has an artistic bent, carrying a silver
cigarette case with an inscription by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, “And if God
choose, / I shall but love thee better—after—death.” This deeply impresses Blanche, who was an
English teacher who had to leave her town in disgrace.
Until Blanche’s past is cruelly and crudely revealed by
Stanley, Blanche and Mitch are drawn to each other, her seeing him as her last
chance and he seeing her – with his mother dying – as a possible wife. (Blanche:
“I think you have a great capacity for devotion.”) Makarowski negotiates a
delicate dance with Blanche, wanting to be a “gentleman” but having
desires. He is in the climactic scene
with Blanche when she tells him about the death of “the boy” – her husband.
Although the long monologue is Blanche’s scene,
Makarowski’s pain in hearing the story culminates in his moving closer to her,
drawing her into her arms, and saying “you need somebody. And I need somebody, too. Could it be – you and me, Blanche?” Finally he kisses her. Williams’ stage notes say “Her breath is
drawn and released in long, grateful sobs,” Blanche says the last line of the 2nd
act, “Sometimes – there’s God – so quickly!”
The boom is lowered in Act 3. Mitch confronts her about her past after being
a no-show for her birthday celebration.
Stanley has told all the true gossip about Blanche to Stella, but Mitch
in particular. At first Blanche fantasizes
he has come back to apologize for being late for their date, but no, Mitch is
there to utter the words that break Blanche forever: “You’re not clean enough
to bring in the house with my mother.”
At the conclusion Blanche is carted off in an enigmatic
haze (here she delivers the iconic line, “I have always depended on the
kindness of strangers”) past another poker game. While this scene plays out Mitch mostly stares
down at the poker table in shame and anger until finally as Blanche passes by
he takes a swing at Stanley and then returns to stare at the table. It is his tragedy too. Although a more secondary role, Makarowski
makes it memorable.
What is played out between Stanley and Stella – a
tempestuous, but devoted relationship -- is also reflected in a minor and
sometimes humorous subplot between their upstairs neighbors, Eunice and Steve,
played convincingly by PBD alumni, Julie Rowe and Gregg Weiner. The occasional violence of their relationship
foreshadows the Kowalskis.
Rounding out the cast is Thomas Rivera; Suzanne Ankrum
(PBD debut); Renee Elizabeth Turner; and Michael Collins.
Although this is a long, serious drama, with two brief
intermissions, it flies by, a testament to J. Barry Lewis’ direction. There is humor embedded in parts and Lewis is
careful to allow a pregnant pause for the humor to sink in emitting some
laughter from the audience. One of the
sound effects is a sudden screeching cat.
Blanche’s nervous system is always on the edge and at one cat screech
she even leaps into Stanley’s arms. Such
humor helps makes this masterpiece a true human tragedy.
The scenic design by Anne Mundell anchors the entire
production. Most notably is the openness
of the stage. There is no place for
Blanche to hide, from people, sounds, and light. It is a cold hard set, not the Belle Reve of
her youth. It is a masterpiece of set
design and literally takes your breath away when entering the theatre.
Costume design by Brian O’Keefe focused on pastel colors
to contrast to the set and while the working men of the play are dressed as
they would be in post WW II New Orleans, either coming home from the factory,
or for playing poker, or, for Mitch, a suit and bow tie going out on a date
with Blanche. The big challenge is the
number of dresses Blanche required, with several costume changes right on
stage. The design and colors speak
southern belle, and especially Blanche’s white lace gloves.
Lighting by Kirk Bookman bathes the stage in dappled
light, allowing the time and date to dictate colors and intensity. Festive lights dangle from the top of the
stage. This is decidedly New Orleans.
As the Kowalskis live near a railroad, the rumble of a
train is occasionally heard and this is just one of the many effects sound
designer Abigail Nover (PBD debut) introduces.
Mostly it is the sounds of the city, New Orleans music, at the time the
jazz capitol of the world, and the haunting refrains of the Varsouviana that
are heard during Blanche’s reveries (in a minor key when she internalizes it
and a major key when she tells the story to others). J. Barry Lewis makes the most of these sounds
during the most dramatic moments, particularly a train rumbling by.
PBD’s relatively new stage manager, Debi Marcucci does an
exceptional job in managing this extraordinarily complicated play.
There are not enough superlatives to commend this
production. Take a theatrical ride of a lifetime
on A Streetcar Named Desire. Palm Beach Dramaworks’ production is live
theatre at its best.
Cast photos by Samantha Mighdoll