THE GLASS MENAGERIE. To 11 October.
Tour
THE GLASS MENAGERIE
by Tennessee Williams.
Tour to 11 October 2008.
Runs 2hr 45min One interval.
Review: Timothy Ramsden 17 September at Richmond Theatre.
Memories in the cold light of day.
Braham Murray’s revival tours from Manchester’s Royal Exchange, redirected from in-the-round to accommodate touring theatres’ picture-frame stages. It takes a stark approach, snapping suddenly into action, showing this memory-drama is no dream-play. The angled stage and sloping bank of neighbourhood houses give a sense of how far the Wingfields’ lives are askew in late-1930s downtown St Louis.
Richmond’s stage exposes the characters, especially Brenda Blethyn’s Amanda, more than the wrap-around, intimate contact Exchange. Blethyn’s Amanda is strident, at higher pitches glutinously viscous, at lower ones scratchingly abrasive.
She lumbers around dowdily, until the Gentleman Caller who she hopes will snap up her withdrawn daughter arrives, running to prepare for his visit like a squirrel secreting a particularly luscious nut. In the final scene Blethyn’s Amanda with her flopping hair and faded, frilly dress is a pathetic shadow of ante bellum elegance.
Yet Blethyn draws understanding for this ridiculous, gauche figure, making clear that what’s really happening is that an aging woman, deserted by her husband (the point’s made in a repeated line), her past lost in dreams and fantasies, attempts to survive and give shape to the lives of a grown-up son who’s going nowhere and gets drunk, and a daughter who backs out of everything.
Blanche Dubois will be similar in Williams’ Streetcar Named Desire. Yet Blanche fails herself as she deceives others. Amanda, stuffing ‘gay deceiver’ breast enhancements down her daughter’s front may be a vulgar figure of fun, and crush her children’s spirits. But, earning a crust through thankless telesales, she’s doing her best while being lied to by both her children.
Murray’s demystifying (or demisting) approach leads to some brutal results. Mark Arends’ Tom, clicking his fingers to alter lighting, an over-obvious device, has a governing sarcasm that sharpens the character, taking it away from sympathy or authorial self-identification. Andrew Langtree’s Gentleman Caller shows how high school heroes turn mediocrity with an every-inch-the-stumblejohn awkwardness.
Still, it’s under the brief ray of his attention that Emma Hamilton’s fearful Laura temporarily blossoms into confidence, retreating soon into her psychological shell like some creature unfit for this world.
Amanda Wingfield: Brenda Blethyn.
Tom Wingfield: Mark Arends.
Laura Wingfield: Emma Hamilton
Jim O’Connor: Andrew Langtree.
Director: Braham Murray.
Designer: Simon Higlett.
Lighting: Johanna Town.
Sound: Pete Rice.
Composer: Akintayo Akimbode.
Choreographer: Mark Bruce.
Dialect coach: Julia Wilson-Dickson.
2008-09-18 15:57:44