I was surprised looking back to realize that it had been 12 years since I read this play, and, since I am middle aged, I somehow forgot that it was three acts, not two (or five for that matter), and realized at the second intermission that I wasn’t imagining that there was more story. Call it a senior moment or something.
Anyway, I was looking forward to seeing this one live, as I had not previously. I also haven’t seen any of the movie versions - I’m not that much of a moviegoer, preferring to read in the evenings.
Bakersfield Community Theater has been a on a bit of a roll lately with some classic productions. Every local theater has its own flavor, so to speak, and role in the community. For BCT, it skews a bit older in audience, and doesn’t do as many musicals or new works. (This isn’t an absolute, just a general tendency, and there is nothing wrong with a niche.)
I think that BCT is at its best with classic stage works, using veteran actors, and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof fit that bill.
I already wrote a good bit about the plot when I read it - you can read that post here. (And, if you like, perhaps compare who I was a dozen years ago with who I am now…) I won’t reiterate the plot in this post.
I did have some new insights, however, having seen it live. This play turns very much on dialogue - it is very wordy, and people just talk, and go on and on. I’m not complaining, because Tennessee Williams uses the abundance of words - and indeed the way the characters repeat themselves, doubling back and becoming caught in their own cycles of words and the trauma that underlies them. Since I am a Henry James fan, I actually like this sort of thing, the way the psychology is illuminated in part through the way the characters work out their own thoughts as they speak.
There are also some things that come alive on stage that might not in a reading. Maggie, for example, is a lot less likable on stage. In this production, Petra Carter makes it clear that Maggie’s motives are far from pristine. Yes, she wants Brick to love her, and is frustrated by her lack of sex and children. But she also is determined that Brick will have his inheritance, and is willing to do nearly anything to get it.
As far as that goes, there is not a single likable character in this play. Everyone is terrible in their own way. This isn’t to say that there aren’t some characters that are more sympathetic than others. Maggie isn’t really in the wrong, even if I would never ever want to be married to someone like her. (I’m not nearly rich enough to make it worth her while, so no risk.)
The first act is dominated by an extended dialogue between Maggie and her husband Brick. Except that to call it a “dialogue” is to mischaracterize it. It is really an monologue by Maggie, with Brick trying to avoid getting involved in it. He says a few words, but very few. Most of his role is to grunt and avoid. And drink. Constantly drink.
I was fascinated by the way this came off in a live production. Petra Carter (last seen as another frustrated and wronged wife in The Crucible), managed to sustain an arc of fury and frustration and longing throughout the entire act - and the sheer memorization to get all of those lines down, and remember where to move on stage was impressive.
In contrast, Josh Carruthers as Brick (last seen by me in The Importance of Being Earnest) had to do most of his acting without words, pacing on his crutch, drinking, emoting through body language and facial expression.
I loved the chemistry the two of them had in this play - they really brought the characters fully to life.
The other central character, who gets a heck of a lot of lines, is Big Daddy, the suddenly mortal plutocrat and patriarch. Mark Price (last seen as the Cowardly Lion) blustered and bullied his way through this role, with a eye patch, and a sense of entitlement perfect for the character. (Also fun: on his facebook page, he has been putting totally inappropriate captions to the still shots from the play - I have been dying laughing at them.)
But the character is deeper than he might appear at first. Yes, he is selfish, entitled, greedy, monomaniacal even; but he also knows Brick all too well - they are very much alike deep down, and the bombast of Big Daddy is a self-protection mechanism every bit as much as Brick’s withdrawal into booze and his own head.
Thus, I felt very much that small line, where Big Daddy tells Brick that what Brick is really all broken up about isn’t that his friend (and crush) Skipper desired him, or that he committed suicide. Rather, it is that Brick rebuffed Skipper’s advances and feels guilty about it. And not merely that this precipitated the suicide - as bad as that is to have on a conscience - but that, despite all of his protests that he isn’t homosexual, Brick very much is, and very much desired Skipper, and the rebuff was violence to the both of them. (Big Daddy also stops barely short of outright saying that he would have accepted a gay son, which, given everything else he says, is remarkable.)
The two are also joined by the unhappiness of their marriages. And unfortunately, I agree. As little as I would have wanted to be married to Maggie, Big Mama would have been a thousand times worse. She is like everything I can’t stand about a certain kind of woman from the Evangelical and Southern subcultures. (And no shade on Vickie Stricklind, who directed and played Big Mama - that was good acting, which is why I cringed so much at the character.)
I already mentioned in my previous post that both the doctor and the minister are portrayed very negatively. Both are happy to hang out and feel important at the parties of the rich, but as soon as either is expected to actually provide comfort, they are out of there. While I won’t say that this is my experience with ministers - they vary quite a bit, and I have seen others who humaned up and brought solace in times of trouble. Doctors, though? Don’t get me started on all my wife’s stories about having to force doctors to actually talk with their patients.
Ben Soelberg and Logan Scott played the doctor and minister, respectively, in this production. Both are minor parts, and they were fine in these limited roles. (I’ll mention Scott’s fall schedule, which included a pair of Shakespeare plays and Lucky in Waiting for Godot. He has the lugubrious schtick down pretty well.)
Let’s see, who else? Well, Brick’s older brother, Gooper, the successful (and unscrupulous) lawyer, his hyper-gravid wife should be mentioned. And a pair of thoroughly horrid people they are too. Troy Fidis took advantage of being the tallest person in the play to loom and tower and do the thing I get (as a shorter guy) from certain lawyers - that projection of size into personal space in an attempt to intimidate. Very believable.
Janice Bondurant got the role of Mae, visibly pregnant, and maternal in the “see how well I perform femininity” version - the kind who thinks of children as trophies, while she not so secretly dislikes them. Again, another female character I would never want to be married to. (And, unfortunately, I am all too familiar with this behavior - currying favor with parents through children and flattery - unfortunately for me, it is far more effective in my own family than it is in this play.)
One might generally think that Williams is a misogynist, given the utter lack of likeability of his female characters. Except that very few of his male characters are endurable either. Certainly, in this play, everyone is terrible. The only somewhat sympathetic male character that comes to mind is Tom in The Glass Menagerie, and that character is pretty obviously a stand-in for the playwright.
Also, in a rather fascinating turn, Williams (practically unique among his contemporaries) openly insists (through Maggie) that women are entitled to sexual pleasure in marriage just as much as men are. Which is something that far too many men (and far too many Evangelical gurus) pointedly ignore or deny.
A few other observations. The reason this play is a masterpiece is the way Williams is able to show that every main character is hiding from themselves. Brick is hiding from his sexual orientation by drinking and withdrawing, Maggie is hiding from her terror of poverty by gold digging and hypersexuality, Big Daddy has hidden from his unhappy marriage and fear of death by chasing wealth and bullying his way through life, Big Mama is so fake that it isn’t entirely clear what she is hiding from behind her fantasy of the perfect family where everyone loves each other, Mae is avoiding the drag of being a decent person by being the Perfect Wife and Mother™ and parading her children to that effect, Gooper is hiding from his pain at being rejected by his parents by being competent and thus demanding their approval.
It’s a mess all around.
For all the talk in this play, there is precious little genuine connection. Periodically, it looks like something might happen - a few moments between Maggie and Brick, and later between Brick and Big Daddy - but as soon as intimacy looks possible, the characters pull sharply back from it. In the end, the connections are missed, and the cycle of trauma continues.
Overall, I think this was a good production, with particularly great work by the main characters in bringing Williams’ vision to life. The casting helped this, with actors I have enjoyed in other roles, who seemed particularly suited to play these characters.
For more information about tickets, visit http://www.bctstage.org/
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