Which is your favorite Tennessee Williams creation? For some, the semi-autobiographical tale of wanderer Tom and the two apparitions that haunt his travels is the most poignant of Williams' collection of emotionally draining plays. The Glass Menagerie is the playwright's self-conscious attempt to exorcise memories of the Southern Belle mother and disabled sister he left behind. As both narrator and participant, Williams has his alter ego attempt a last ditch effort to save his family from a hopeless future by introducing his painfully shy sister to a gentleman caller. The titled glass menagerie exists as a metaphor of micro and macrocosmic proportions; Laura's collection of tiny and fragile glass animals can represent the weary society around them that is suffering through the Great Depression, as well as each of the characters' easily broken spirits.
When the cast was initially announced for Phoenix Theatre's production, it seemed that out-of-town Director Karla Koskinen had made some odd choices. The final product proves most of those hesitations unwarranted, as the evening is a mostly faithful recreation of Tom's remembrance of the Wingfield's sad exile in St. Louis. The design elements are excellently rendered, the performances range from meticulous to daring, and Koskinen's direction creates carefully wrought stage pictures that establish the memory play's dreamlike atmosphere.
Patti Davis-Suarez has shown Phoenix audiences her wide acting range this season in such performances as her star turn in Applause, excellently rendered supporting roles in My Fair Lady and All's Well, and now as the nervous and flighty Amanda. She is powerful as she smoothly transitions from rambling chit-chat through desperate anger to steely resolve. Her hummingbird-like pacing, balanced by her pleasant southern drawl, propels the play forward. She captures Amanda's faded elegance and growing despondence.
While often cast as spindly and nearly as transparent as Laura Wingfield's dear, doomed glass unicorn, Laura Freeman instead physicalizes Laura's ghost-like existence through the way she tentatively holds her arms, her distracted, wandering eyes, and the hitches of her heavily constricted voice. Freeman's hands fidget and grab at her clothing, belying Laura's fear of touching the real world. Her expression is one of a puppy awaiting a beating. It is at the point of spiritual departure for her character, as she dares for once to see the possibility of mattering in the world, that Freeman reveals depth in her performance; her eyes sparkle, her body strengthens into an assured stance, and a wide smile crosses her previously bloodless lips. As the scene progresses and twists, she seamlessly returns to an even deeper, more pained withdrawal, contracting to the shadow of a ghost.
Christopher Corts and Koskinen have defied convention, incorporating an element of the playwright into his alter-ego character. As the older, wiser Tom who narrates the memory play, Corts adds a more effeminate tone to his fanciful descriptions and allusions, similar to Williams' vocal patterns. The same element is only a slight glimmer as Tom enters the scenes he has created, giving the barest hint as to the future of his travels. The only interaction that seems a bit forced is that with co-worker Jim, the fabled Gentleman Caller. The two do not connect strongly during their bonding scene in the second act.
Mathew Zimmerer does a great job portraying Jim's faded glory. His scene with Freeman is quite powerful, as he puffs in the presence of former success offered by Laura's remembrances of high school.
Geof Eroe's gossamer-like set features outer squalor held at bay but still visible through transparent wallpaper, hiding within the furnishings of lost glory. Nykol DeDreu's dream-like lighting design can be a bit obtrusive, calling attention to itself in quick transitions between realistic and fantastical. Liz Ihlenfeld's costumes are accurate, and achieve their own humor in the second act. James Scoggins' sound design gets all of the music and levels just right, save for the odd-sounding thunder.
While not as combative as Streetcar, or wily as Cat, Menagerie is equally heartbreaking. PT's production drew a tear from this reviewer, which should bring a little comfort to William's eternally restless spirit.
Production Details:
The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee
Williams
Phoenix Theatre (For a map to location, click this
link)
(602) 254-2151
April 5th - 21st, 2002