by Syed Zaid Ali
Hot off the heels of the critically acclaimed revival of Cabaret at the Playhouse Theatre, Rebecca Frecknall returns to direct yet another high profile work in A Streetcar Named Desire. Having thoroughly enjoyed the former, I had high hopes for her take on Tennessee Williams’ magnum opus—and I was not disappointed in the slightest. From stunning performances by the incredible cast, to a bold reimagining of the music and the use of interpretive dance, Frecknall manages to not only bring to the forefront Williams’ concerns in the play, but also revitalises Streetcar for modern audiences.
Williams’ drama of opposing sensibilities should be familiar to many. The lively yet nervous Blanche arrives at her sister Stella’s home on the ironically named Elysian Fields, having taken the titular streetcar to where she is “ashamed to be” and “not wanted”, as she later confesses. Though, having lost her family estate in Belle Reve, she finds herself with nowhere else to turn. Her personality clashes with that of Stanley, the man of the house and husband to Stella, who Blanche describes as “common” and “bestial”, leading to much of the conflict in the play.
Patsy Ferran is our leading lady, having stepped into the role just a few days before the previews were scheduled to begin, due to Lydia Wilson’s withdrawal from the production due to health reasons. The run was delayed by just under a week, but this was no impediment for her in producing a stellar turn as the endlessly complex Blanche DuBois. Similarly impressive is Anjana Vasan, who plays her sister Stella. The most interesting aspect of their interpretations of the sisters is how direct and matter-of-fact their characters seemed, especially with Vasan. In the Young Vic production (where she is played by Vanessa Kirby) Stella does not seem to be fully aware of Stanley’s abusive behaviour, but in this production I was convinced that she understands his tendencies completely, and stays with him regardless. What results is a much more tragic and nuanced approach to Stella that I was pleasantly surprised by.
Paul Mescal proves yet again why he is a rising star with his take on Stanley. Despite being cursed to live in the shadow of Marlon Brando (as perhaps any Stanley would be), Mescal manages to carve out his own path, keeping an unmistakable violence just under the surface, which boils over as necessary: “Every man is a king! And I’m the king around here, so don’t forget it!” Stanley’s animal qualities are also made explicit, especially in his climactic scene with Blanche, as Mescal prowls towards a vulnerable Ferran in the perfect culmination of his character.
The production’s more expressionistic elements are also successful. The use of live drumming as part of the sound design and score—replacing the “blue piano” Williams calls for—works to elucidate Blanche’s increasingly fraught state of mind throughout the play. Snippets of choreographed interpretive dance also help cement the idea of mental and emotional turmoil. For instance, the flower vendor in the ‘flores para los muertos’ (‘flowers for the dead’) scene—accompanied by red light that flooded the stage—traversed the stage in expressive, wide movements as she interacts with a distraught Blanche ruminating on death and regret.
To be fair, this is arguably Williams’ strongest work. As long as his words remain, it is perhaps difficult to mess up. Nevertheless, Frecknall’s vision in this revival shines through, and with such a strong cast, it is undoubtedly one of the most enthralling productions in London today.
