mspt@goldfishpublishers.com
Reviewed 1/24/04
It’s a modern classic, a Pulitzer Prize winner, and has one of the greatest woman roles of which actresses dream. It’s Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire. What makes it so amazing is what also makes it dangerously clichéd. Its popularity and its familiarity make it a difficult show to mount; Brando is indelibly linked to Stanley Kowalski and few can wipe from their memory the inflection with which Vivian Leigh spoke the famous “I have always depinded on the kin’ness of strangehs.” Stripping away these prior performances though, reveals an amazing script that is still incredibly relevant and deserves remounting. Arizona Theatre Company’s Associate Artistic Director Samantha K. Wyer, who has very successfully directed shows like A Moon for the Misbegotten, Proof, and Wit, once again scores a direct hit with her gritty production of Williams’ classic. As far as I can tell, the script is kept nearly intact, resulting in an over three hour production that seems to zip by, and she brings in her own choices that leave her stamp on the gut-wrenching work.
The
first difficult step in recreating this great a classic is in casting. To
that end, Wyer has eschewed the stereotypical
by casting Stephen Beach (pictured left, seated in red)
as Stanley. Beach is not the physical image one would assume for a man described
by Blanche as “an ape…subhuman.” Beach is not physically
imposing, despite a well-muscled physique. He is a balding, middling height
scrapper. What Beach depends on, and what Wyer draws out, is the bravado,
the self-image of Stanley. When first we meet him, he is strong of spirit
and self-assured,
unaware of any possible flaws in his personality because he has Kelly
Mares’ (picutred above, standing at left) enabling
Stella squarely under his control and can see himself through her lustily
enchanted eyes. It is only as Katherine Clarvoe’s haughty
Blanche flits into the world and disrupts the stasis and the fanciful picture
in both Stanley and
Stella’s minds that we see Beach turn from strutting rooster to snarling
animal, desperate to hold onto what is his. There is no violence evident
at first, and that’s what makes this character arc so excitingly new.
Mares
is a sweetly endearing Stella. Her convictions are strong as the action begins,
but we see her tearing apart as she is the center of
the battle between
Stanley and Blanche. More typical in presentation is Clarvoe’s flighty
Blanche (pictured right). This is a southern belle fighting desperately
for her last shred of nobility, and Clarvoe affects all of the attitudes
of
the
spoiled
princess.
Gregory Northrop’s Mitch (pictured above, seated in
the middle) is heartbreakingly well performed. He is a gentle giant, full
of heart and quiet
nobility, and
his final moments
at the end of
the show are full of excellent choices powerfully presented.
One noticeable directorial problem in this generally impressive show, though, is the lack of initial chemistry between Clarvoe and Beach. Nothing smolders between the two, no recognizable visceral connection of two fighters with similar goals but differing tactics. It throws off the balance of the third act confrontation. The other directorial choice that undercuts the power of Clarvoe’s Blanche is the overt destruction of her mental balance as the play concludes. Subtlety gives way to visual effects in Dennis Parichy’s otherwise flawless design. With more use of music in the remainder of Brian Jerome Peterson’s sound design, the effect of Blanche’s music would be less obvious. It should tell you something about how impressive this overall production is, though, if I am being so finicky about these details.
Kent Dorsey’s set is rich in realism, portraying the decrepit two room New Orleans apartment in meticulous detail. Sam Fleming’s costumes are uniformly excellent, and Michael Koerner’s musical compositions are mood inducing. Special note goes to Dianne J. Winslow for her dialect work, which is totally realistic.
It’s easy to just catch Streetcar on American Movie Classics or rent the DVD, but there’s something exquisite in having the action play out in front of you live. No matter how amazing the movie might be, the New Orleans nights are more torrid and the sharp sting of a slap is stronger when you’re in the moment, not separated from the action. Once again, ATC offers another must-see, and adds to its already impressive track record.
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