What a Do’s “Streetcar” would make Williams proud
SPRINGFIELD, Mich.–A Streetcar Named Desire is arguably the greatest American play of the 20th Century. Celebrated adaptations range from a contemporary Woody Allen film to a Scottish ballet to a Simpsons episode show its malleability and possibilities. It’s nearly impossible to be alive and not have a preconceived notion of these iconic characters that borders on caricature. And yet, a production as fine as What a Do Theatre’s practically makes Tennessee Williams’ incomparable script new again simply by remaining true to its sheer brilliance.
Blanche DuBois, a widowed Mississippi schoolteacher with weak nerves who’s in more trouble than she at first reveals, moves to New Orleans in the 1940s to stay with sister Stella Kowalski and her husband Stanley in a shabby tenement. Her presence creates trouble for the couple and leads to irrevocably explosive confrontations.
Director Randy Wolfe gets it right in every imaginable way, making the most of this drama that offers one of the finest female characters in all of literature and an extraordinary critique of heteronormativity before its time.
Starting with the cast. He’s chosen a group of virtuosos, perfectly suited to their roles, and yet together they’re a true ensemble: their responsiveness to each other, the ways they listen with their whole selves, the way they respect the language and emotionality of the play are astounding. The realism is so complete it’s as if there’s no acting here.
This is especially poignant in a story so utterly focused on embracing illusion as a mode of survival. “I don’t want realism; I want magic,” Blanche wails. Katherine Nofs captures Blanche performing coquettish femininity and grace while managing the slow fuse and then explosive psychotic break that emerges amid the peeling away layers of trauma, both those remembered and freshly inflicted. Emotional and physical, her transformation is complex and utterly mesmerizing.
She is, indeed, the center of What A Do’s production, and this, too, is the result of careful direction that is truer to Williams’ original intent than the 1951 Elia Kazan film that painted a sympathetic Stanley Kowalski made unforgettable, in my opinion, by Marlon Brando.
At What A Do, Stanley is a beast, albeit a deeply compelling one. “What such a man has to offer is animal force,” Blanche says to Stella. “The only way to live with such a man is to sleep with him, and that’s your job, not mine,” she continues, foreshadowing the tragedy that will ultimately lead to her undoing.
As a physical presence, Joe Dely doesn’t loom large, yet he’s a formidable and fully embodied Stanley. In climactic moments he’s terrifying, and his Stanley shows more vulnerability than most in his childlike breakdown with Stella. Though his condescending scowl and curled lip are semi permanent, to watch him while other actors are speaking is to see him actively listen and process what he’s hearing.
The acting here is excellent across the board. Every character is expertly drawn, each with his or her own distinct arc, such is the structural genius of the script; the actors make the most of the terrific material, and technical choices also enhance the effect. For example, with Nancy King’s costume design, Teri Christ Noaeill’s down-home Stella wears frumpy frocks while Nofs’ clothing grow progressively more glamorous and form fitting as she comes into her own before her descent into madness.
Likewise, New Orleans is a character, a constant interrupting presence in this production. Amid brief set changes, street vendors sell their wares, calling out “Fresh peanuts!” “Fresh Irish potatoes!” as period jazz vinyl recordings play, keeping both art and commerce at the forefront. It’s a hot, lusty place, deeply impoverished and yet also rich and full; but traffic and trafficking permeate—both externally, in the public sphere, and domestically, over poker at the kitchen table and inside Blanche’s head, that, among other things, produces a world view in which her only hope is as a commodity. “I just want to deceive him long enough for him to want me,” she says of potential beau Mitch, played with tenderness by Nicholas Mumma. A beautiful set by Samantha Snow penetrated with variable light intensifies the collision of these internal and external spaces.
The rich themes resonate on multiple levels in this skillfully produced show. It’s a thrill to see theatre this good, this honest.