Review: Streetcar Named Desire
The Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum, 1419 North Topanga Canyon Bl., Topanga, 310-455-3723
by Teresa Willis
The gradual deterioration of the morally bankrupt Blanche DuBois in Tennessee Williams’ Streetcar Named Desire is one of the most fascinating spectacles of modern American theatre. She is ours, fully American, a gift from Mr. Williams, who caught her as she fell through the cracks of our social acceptance and presented her to us wrapped in the same paper Arthur Miller used to pass us Willy Loman. As with Loman, we watch Blanche’s demise with morbid curiosity and denial of responsibility for her condition. But she does not suffer as much from the results of her own deeds as she does from the shame spurred by our judgment of them. Williams was a master of pointing out society’s ills by showing us its saddest victims. Yes, she is our Blanche. And we cannot get enough of her.
Hence the endless productions of Streetcar. And if you’re like me, you’ve seen our sad heroine in many various portrayals. Most are disappointing, as, alas, we know her so well, anything less than an authentic performance is obvious even to the untrained eye. It is with such a jaded view that I accepted the assignment to review the Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum’s production of Streetcar Named Desire. And though I would like to keep my jaded view intact, I cannot get around the following statement: Thank you, Ellen Geer.
Ms. Geer gives us a truly authentic Blanche DuBois. Her performance never loses sight of the purity of Blanche—the twisted child in the most adverse of circumstances. She shows us Blanche as she plays out all her options from behind a lace and talc veil of deceit, desperately playing for time when Stanley (Richard Tyson) lifts the veil and forces her into the only viable option she ever had—insanity.
An equally dead-on performance is delivered by Geer’s real-life sister, Melora Marshall, as Stella, Blanche’s wide-eyed, love-crazed sister. Stella is the classic co-dependent. She runs interference between Blanche and Stanley, willing to sacrifice anything—just so everything will be okay. Marshall is a delight in the role. Stella is a character largely defined by her relationships to Stanley and Blanche. The depth and passion of these relationships is one aspect that makes this particular production work so well. Marshall’s performance is pivotal—the glue that holds it all together.
And Stanley Kowalski is a force of nature. The driving force of the play. And while Richard Tyson’s Stanley hit all the marks the character is supposed to hit—virile, animalistic, violent, charming, infuriating—I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was uncomfortable in the role. The southern accent was off on the rhythm—it kept slipping into quasi-Brooklynese. And though it has nothing to do with his acting, it was very obvious that his long pony tail was tucked under, giving a strange protrusion at the nape of his neck and hair that didn’t move no matter how much he slung Stella around—very un-Stanley. However, I can’t, in good conscience, slam Tyson completely. Some scenes, such as his drunken self-pity fest when Stella leaves him, were next to perfect. But he was not consistent.
This is a very sexy production. Director Heidi Davis didn’t shy away from taking the sparks that flew between Tyson and Marshall and parlaying them into a steamy spectacle for a summer night. One particular scene finds the lights up on Blanche and Mitch (Tom Allard) while Stan and Stella get très graphic in half light on the bed. I’m sorry, but once Richard Tyson bared his ass while simulating really great sex, Blanche and Mitch could’ve been doing the funky chicken and I wouldn’t have glanced their way. But it wasn’t gratuitous. At that point in the action, there is no way Stanley and Stella were doing anything but grinding it out. The directional challenge was keeping it believable and legal. Ms. Davis succeeds on this count and all others. The direction is exceptional.
The supporting players are well cast. Tom Allard was born to play Mitch and claims his birthright with fervor. Ernestine Phillips and Fred Zelinka are perfect as Eunice and Steve, the upstairs neighbors.
The technical aspects of the show were beautifully executed. Bernie White gave us great costumes and must’ve had fun filling Blanche’s steamer trunk with all those beautiful period pieces. John Marzelli’s set was well designed and strewn with the most important details. Eileen Cooley’s lighting design gave us some great eerie New Orleans nights.
This is the first production I’ve seen at the Theatricum Botanicum, though I’d heard about it for years. I’d pass it on the way to the beach and think, “Grandpa Walton’s got a theatre?” And I remember once bemoaning the sad state of Shakespeare in Los Angeles to which a trusted friend replied, “Theatricum Botanicum. Ellen Geer. See what they’re doing before you bitch about L.A. Shakespeare.”
It began in the early 1950’s when founder Will Geer had a nursery and a theatre in the front yard of his Topanga Canyon residence. There, performers, musicians, and artists began a tradition of performing that continues today. In 1973, the Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum, a non-profit corporation, was formed. The Geer family presented free workshop performances of Shakespeare and musical concerts. Upon Mr. Geer’s death in 1978, the family and a small band of players decided to work towards becoming a full-fledged repertory theatre, incorporating educational programs and musical events. Today, it is apparent that they are succeeding. Not only have they been a professional repertory company with a union contract since 1983, they offer youth and adult classes through their Academy of the Classics. They also have two programs which work directly with the L.A. Unified School District.
In 1979, Ellen Geer (daughter of Will) became the Artistic Director of Theatricum Botanicum. If this production of Streetcar is consistent with the integrity with which the entire company is run, she’s done a hell of a job. Her family must be very proud. And Los Angeles is very fortunate.♦