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Older PostWEDNESDAY, MARCH 12, 2025
THEATER: "A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE"
LACKS DRIVE
THEATER: "A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE"
LACKS DRIVE
A Streetcar Named Desire ** out of ****
The Harvey at Brooklyn Academy of Music
Nothing is wrong with this revival of Streetcar, except
that it doesn't work.
Director Rebecca Frecknall (on Broadway with the hit
revival of Cabaret ) has a clear vision of Stanley as a
brutish, unredeemable abuser. The cast is talented, if
unconventionally cast. The setting strips away any
romanticism of the French Quarter in New Orleans by
staging the show on a bare, square platform. The score
ignores jazzy allure for a doom-laden, percussive
underlining of emotions. The modern dress insists on a
modern take. We've also got interpretative dancing; the
entire cast always present, observing the action when not
taking part in it; and lots of rain. All perfectly reasonable
choices. And all for nought.
Frecknall enjoyed acclaim in London for her take on the
iffier Tennessee Williams drama Summer and Smoke.
Streetcar in contrast is an unqualified classic, though like
any classic it needs to be held up to the light, seen from a
different angle and rethought to stay alive. (Or simply
staged on a constantly rotating platform, which is how I
saw it last.)
In it, the fading Blanche arrives in New Orleans, penniless
and at loose ends. She inserts herself into the life of a
happily (?) married sister, upsetting the domesticity of
Stella and Stanley. Blanche and Stanley warily circle each
other, with Blanche arousing his confused desire when
not mocking and belittling him as little better than an
animal.
Stanley is confused by her, angry with her and dangerous
when digging into the facts around Blanche fleeing her
last job as schoolteacher. Blanche seizes on a dull friend
of Stanley's as a potential spouse, a last chance to keep
from drowning. But it's too late. The truth about her past
crushes that ploy and Blanche sinks into madness, sent
away by a reluctant Stella at the end.
Well, that's one way to summarize the story.
What we see here is quite different. As embodied by Patsy
Ferran, Blanche arrives mid-nervous breakdown,
fluttering and silly and spinsterish. She and Paul Mescal
as Stanley have no sexual chemistry, though as conceived
here, it's hard to imagine anyone drawn to this Blanche.
This is not the Blanche who proved so wanton and
desirable to the soldiers in her last town that she was
declared off limits by military brass. Plus, she's all but
mad in the first scene, exhausting and exhausted.
Stanley, played as asked by Paul Mescal (an excellent film
actor I'm seeing on stage for the first time), is an
irredeemable brute. She's no match for him and certainly
no temptress. Stanley beats his wife, rapes his sister-in-
law and destroys the mild hope of companionship for his
friend. In this production, he and Blanche are not
sparring. Stanley is a sleek cat, toying with a wounded
bird for fun before he shakes it by the neck and kills his
prey.
So the drama has nowhere to go. Blanche is already mad.
Stanley is clearly the dominant force from start to finish.
Indeed, Blanche lost the moment she entered the ring.
Her fall at the end barely registers.
Stella, played ably by Anjana Vasan (best known here for
the TV shows We Are Lady Parts and Killing Eve ) is
notably older than Stanley. They might well have made
something of this, echoing Blanche's predilection for
boys, but it's a lost opportunity. Yet when a play is this
good, even a revival that doesn't work can offer new ways
of thinking about it.
Vasan and Ferran have the best chemistry in the show.
This bond between two sisters feels like the natural arc of
the show. Stella doesn't put up with her sister: she loves
her and is (mostly) happy to cater to her whims, as Vasan
makes clear. They meet at the beginning and part at the
end, with Stella broken and weeping, encircled (or
entrapped, really) by Stanley. He's an abuser and
Stanley's earlier cry of "Stella" is less the demanding howl
of the master of the house and more the bleating appeal of
the wife beater who knows it's time to pretend he's sorry
before doing it all over again.
Stella sides with an abuser and knows it, deep down; she’s
dimly aware that of course the man who beats her would
physically assault her sister. But she ignores her sister,
she refuses to believe it, can't believe it because that
would upend her life. It's easier to pretend Blanche is
lying. Stella's cry of despair, however, speaks the truth.
This angle is the strongest element of the show; I wish it
had more impact for me.
I'm not sure the text would support it, but this hints that
Streetcar might be seen as a battle for Stella. What if she
came on stage at the start with a black eye or a bloody lip,
the abuse she endures obvious to the audience, shocking
Blanche and showing us the real stakes here? Blanche is
right about Stanley, after all, even if he’s right about her
past. And while we've no illusions about the misery of
mental institutions in the 1940s, maybe at the end
Blanche is escaping a nightmare. Maybe it's Stella who is
really doomed. Frecknall gets closer to this, but not
satisfyingly so.
Another useful insight is the role of Mitch. Usually he's a
sad sack, the runt of Stanley's gang a la Karl Malden, who
originated the part. Blanche latches onto Mitch and
dazzles the poor schlub with her grand ways. She's toying
with him, the way she toys with Stanley, until he breaks
her. No one imagines Mitch as anything but a sad, boring,
desperate measure, even for her.
Not here. Actor Dwane Walcott doesn't betray the
essential nature of Mitch: he's still a momma's boy and
the least alpha male around. But he has an appealing
nature and certainly a sex appeal. Blanche isn't pulling
the wool over his eyes: they are co-conspirators in her
fantasy of knights and ladies and courtship. By god,
Blanche would be lucky to have him. And with his mother
dying and facing life alone, Mitch would be lucky to have
her. They make sense here, which reveals Stanley's
takedown of their twinned hopes as all the crueler. He's
not saving Mitch, he's destroying him. So score one for
casting and Frecknall's vision.
But there are further problems. Most of the secondary
roles don't register at all (the landlady, the poker buddies,
the doctor). The lithe, excellent dancer Jabez Sykes who
doubles as the newspaper boy is too tall and adult for the
part. This robs his one scene with Blanche of its
inappropriate nature. And the dancing and performative
moments are extraneous, except for one moment when
Blanche has her back to the audience and Stanley
confronts her, mirrored frighteningly by the wolf pack of
the cast arrayed behind him, ready to pounce.
A bare set is fine. But for most of the show, the staging is
vague and lacks impact, with people scattered about to no
effect. Whether sort of playing poker or sort of squaring
off or sort of enjoying a moment of intimacy, I rarely saw
the tension and excitement of actors arrayed with
precision and clarity. And if rain can feel perfunctory, it
does here.
I'd rather love or hate a production than feel indifferent to
it, as I did this time. Yet, I see the play a little differently
now, and that's certainly saying something. I'm sorry to
have missed Frecknall and Ferran's Summer and Smoke.
Dwane Walcott is worth keeping an eye on.
And Paul Mescal is solid in one of theater's iconic roles,
even if this production makes the part static and less
interesting than it should be, just as it does with the role
of Blanche. He's a brute from start to finish, but Mescal
gives him a brutish appeal. Some lines are whispered
rather than shouted, some smiles reveal a grin and others
teeth that can bite. That's the usual way when someone
tackles a part like this. We enjoy the variations they make
on it or the pleasure of delivering a classic approach with
aplomb. But without the excitement of two worthies
facing off, without the struggle for sex or power or
dominance, without desire, this Streetcar lacks drive.
Theater for 2025
1. A Guide For The Homesick (at DR2) ** out of ****
2. Still (w Melissa Gilbert at Sheen) **
3. A Streetcar Named Desire (w Paul Mescal at BAM) **
POSTED BY MICHAEL GILTZ AT 1:05 PM
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Home
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)MICHAEL GILTZ AT WORK
Michael Giltz is a freelance writer
based in NYC and can be reached at
mgiltz@pipeline.com
FAVORITE LINKS
Americablog
Five O'Clock Lightning baseball blog
Deep Pop -- Lori Lakin's Blog
The Back Page -- Jason Page on ESPN
Radio
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Documents On Art & Cinema - Daryl
Chin's Blog
Brucie G's Wondrous Blog Of
Adventure and Mystery -- Bruce
Greenspan's Blog
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THEATER: "A STREETCAR
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THEATER: "A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE"
LACKS DRIVE
THEATER: "A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE"
LACKS DRIVE
A Streetcar Named Desire ** out of ****
The Harvey at Brooklyn Academy of Music
Nothing is wrong with this revival of Streetcar, except
that it doesn't work.
Director Rebecca Frecknall (on Broadway with the hit
revival of Cabaret ) has a clear vision of Stanley as a
brutish, unredeemable abuser. The cast is talented, if
unconventionally cast. The setting strips away any
romanticism of the French Quarter in New Orleans by
staging the show on a bare, square platform. The score
ignores jazzy allure for a doom-laden, percussive
underlining of emotions. The modern dress insists on a
modern take. We've also got interpretative dancing; the
entire cast always present, observing the action when not
taking part in it; and lots of rain. All perfectly reasonable
choices. And all for nought.
Frecknall enjoyed acclaim in London for her take on the
iffier Tennessee Williams drama Summer and Smoke.
Streetcar in contrast is an unqualified classic, though like
any classic it needs to be held up to the light, seen from a
different angle and rethought to stay alive. (Or simply
staged on a constantly rotating platform, which is how I
saw it last.)
In it, the fading Blanche arrives in New Orleans, penniless
and at loose ends. She inserts herself into the life of a
happily (?) married sister, upsetting the domesticity of
Stella and Stanley. Blanche and Stanley warily circle each
other, with Blanche arousing his confused desire when
not mocking and belittling him as little better than an
animal.
Stanley is confused by her, angry with her and dangerous
when digging into the facts around Blanche fleeing her
last job as schoolteacher. Blanche seizes on a dull friend
of Stanley's as a potential spouse, a last chance to keep
from drowning. But it's too late. The truth about her past
crushes that ploy and Blanche sinks into madness, sent
away by a reluctant Stella at the end.
Well, that's one way to summarize the story.
What we see here is quite different. As embodied by Patsy
Ferran, Blanche arrives mid-nervous breakdown,
fluttering and silly and spinsterish. She and Paul Mescal
as Stanley have no sexual chemistry, though as conceived
here, it's hard to imagine anyone drawn to this Blanche.
This is not the Blanche who proved so wanton and
desirable to the soldiers in her last town that she was
declared off limits by military brass. Plus, she's all but
mad in the first scene, exhausting and exhausted.
Stanley, played as asked by Paul Mescal (an excellent film
actor I'm seeing on stage for the first time), is an
irredeemable brute. She's no match for him and certainly
no temptress. Stanley beats his wife, rapes his sister-in-
law and destroys the mild hope of companionship for his
friend. In this production, he and Blanche are not
sparring. Stanley is a sleek cat, toying with a wounded
bird for fun before he shakes it by the neck and kills his
prey.
So the drama has nowhere to go. Blanche is already mad.
Stanley is clearly the dominant force from start to finish.
Indeed, Blanche lost the moment she entered the ring.
Her fall at the end barely registers.
Stella, played ably by Anjana Vasan (best known here for
the TV shows We Are Lady Parts and Killing Eve ) is
notably older than Stanley. They might well have made
something of this, echoing Blanche's predilection for
boys, but it's a lost opportunity. Yet when a play is this
good, even a revival that doesn't work can offer new ways
of thinking about it.
Vasan and Ferran have the best chemistry in the show.
This bond between two sisters feels like the natural arc of
the show. Stella doesn't put up with her sister: she loves
her and is (mostly) happy to cater to her whims, as Vasan
makes clear. They meet at the beginning and part at the
end, with Stella broken and weeping, encircled (or
entrapped, really) by Stanley. He's an abuser and
Stanley's earlier cry of "Stella" is less the demanding howl
of the master of the house and more the bleating appeal of
the wife beater who knows it's time to pretend he's sorry
before doing it all over again.
Stella sides with an abuser and knows it, deep down; she’s
dimly aware that of course the man who beats her would
physically assault her sister. But she ignores her sister,
she refuses to believe it, can't believe it because that
would upend her life. It's easier to pretend Blanche is
lying. Stella's cry of despair, however, speaks the truth.
This angle is the strongest element of the show; I wish it
had more impact for me.
I'm not sure the text would support it, but this hints that
Streetcar might be seen as a battle for Stella. What if she
came on stage at the start with a black eye or a bloody lip,
the abuse she endures obvious to the audience, shocking
Blanche and showing us the real stakes here? Blanche is
right about Stanley, after all, even if he’s right about her
past. And while we've no illusions about the misery of
mental institutions in the 1940s, maybe at the end
Blanche is escaping a nightmare. Maybe it's Stella who is
really doomed. Frecknall gets closer to this, but not
satisfyingly so.
Another useful insight is the role of Mitch. Usually he's a
sad sack, the runt of Stanley's gang a la Karl Malden, who
originated the part. Blanche latches onto Mitch and
dazzles the poor schlub with her grand ways. She's toying
with him, the way she toys with Stanley, until he breaks
her. No one imagines Mitch as anything but a sad, boring,
desperate measure, even for her.
Not here. Actor Dwane Walcott doesn't betray the
essential nature of Mitch: he's still a momma's boy and
the least alpha male around. But he has an appealing
nature and certainly a sex appeal. Blanche isn't pulling
the wool over his eyes: they are co-conspirators in her
fantasy of knights and ladies and courtship. By god,
Blanche would be lucky to have him. And with his mother
dying and facing life alone, Mitch would be lucky to have
her. They make sense here, which reveals Stanley's
takedown of their twinned hopes as all the crueler. He's
not saving Mitch, he's destroying him. So score one for
casting and Frecknall's vision.
But there are further problems. Most of the secondary
roles don't register at all (the landlady, the poker buddies,
the doctor). The lithe, excellent dancer Jabez Sykes who
doubles as the newspaper boy is too tall and adult for the
part. This robs his one scene with Blanche of its
inappropriate nature. And the dancing and performative
moments are extraneous, except for one moment when
Blanche has her back to the audience and Stanley
confronts her, mirrored frighteningly by the wolf pack of
the cast arrayed behind him, ready to pounce.
A bare set is fine. But for most of the show, the staging is
vague and lacks impact, with people scattered about to no
effect. Whether sort of playing poker or sort of squaring
off or sort of enjoying a moment of intimacy, I rarely saw
the tension and excitement of actors arrayed with
precision and clarity. And if rain can feel perfunctory, it
does here.
I'd rather love or hate a production than feel indifferent to
it, as I did this time. Yet, I see the play a little differently
now, and that's certainly saying something. I'm sorry to
have missed Frecknall and Ferran's Summer and Smoke.
Dwane Walcott is worth keeping an eye on.
And Paul Mescal is solid in one of theater's iconic roles,
even if this production makes the part static and less
interesting than it should be, just as it does with the role
of Blanche. He's a brute from start to finish, but Mescal
gives him a brutish appeal. Some lines are whispered
rather than shouted, some smiles reveal a grin and others
teeth that can bite. That's the usual way when someone
tackles a part like this. We enjoy the variations they make
on it or the pleasure of delivering a classic approach with
aplomb. But without the excitement of two worthies
facing off, without the struggle for sex or power or
dominance, without desire, this Streetcar lacks drive.
Theater for 2025
1. A Guide For The Homesick (at DR2) ** out of ****
2. Still (w Melissa Gilbert at Sheen) **
3. A Streetcar Named Desire (w Paul Mescal at BAM) **
POSTED BY MICHAEL GILTZ AT 1:05 PM
NO COMMENTS:
Post a Comment
Home
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)MICHAEL GILTZ AT WORK
Michael Giltz is a freelance writer
based in NYC and can be reached at
mgiltz@pipeline.com
FAVORITE LINKS
Americablog
Five O'Clock Lightning baseball blog
Deep Pop -- Lori Lakin's Blog
The Back Page -- Jason Page on ESPN
Radio
Cine-Blog -- George Robinson's Blog
Documents On Art & Cinema - Daryl
Chin's Blog
Brucie G's Wondrous Blog Of
Adventure and Mystery -- Bruce
Greenspan's Blog
BLOG ARCHIVE
▼ 2025 (36)
▼ March (5)
THEATER: "A STREETCAR
NAMED DESIRE" LACKS
DRIVE
WORLDWIDE BOX OFFICE
FOR WEEK ENDING
MARCH 9, 2025
WORLDWIDE BOX OFFICE
FOR WEEK ENDING
MARCH 2, 2025
THE MOVIES, BOOKS,
THEATER, CONCERTS,
ALBUMS I'VE ...
MY OSCAR BALLOT: Who I
Pick to Win at the 97th Ann...
► February (25)
► January (6)
► 2024 (37)
► 2023 (8)
► 2022 (6)
► 2021 (8)
► 2020 (7)
► 2019 (93)
► 2018 (34)
► 2017 (6)
► 2016 (2)
► 2015 (11)
► 2014 (2)
► 2013 (5)
► 2012 (17)
► 2011 (15)
► 2010 (10)
► 2009 (43)
► 2008 (86)
► 2007 (781)
► 2006 (2405)
► 2005 (5)POPSURFING.COM