The scene has been set for director Rebecca Frecknall’s A Streetcar Named Desire to dazzle New York. After a sweep of the 2023 Olivier Awards, the entire cast has reprised their roles for a limited run at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. They prove to be nothing less than magic, no matter which side of the Atlantic they’re on.
The trio leading this revival are a powerhouse. Anjana Vasan, perhaps best known as the lead of We Are Lady Parts, is an achingly sad Stella Kowalski. Her performance crescendos until the very end, when she unleashes a primal scream of her doomed sister’s name which rivals the famous “STELLA” cry in its rawness and sheer desperation. Paul Mescal, Irish heartthrob known for Normal People, Aftersun, and Gladiator II, is the legendary Stanley Kowalski. Despite the casting of a big name in such a well-known role, Mescal refuses to let it be anything but his own. While he’s on stage, you can’t help but put aside his starriness or the ghost of a certain other actor always in the room at the mere mention of Stanley Kowalski.
Mescal strips the character down to his most chilling instincts. There is no charm or flirt to mask the beast that Stanley so despises being called. Even in the most tender scenes with Stella, Mescal is charged with a terrifying energy as though he could snap at any moment. He stalks the outside of the stage like a big cat on the prowl, scary even when Stanley is at his most pleased.
Leading the trio is Patsy Ferran as Blanche DuBois, the Southern belle of all Southern belles, descending into a pit of madness and trying to claw her way out as life kicks her further down. Ferran has a dry sense of awareness, barely concealed by all of Blanche’s posturing, which grounds the character in heartbreak. Her Blanche is visibly haunted, not just by the physical manifestation of her dead first love that only she can see, but by the way she looks perpetually uncomfortable, fidgeting and shifting, shaking from her nerves in a way that makes you breathe a sigh of relief the first time she finally sits down.
Much about this production simmers with the promise of violence. On a balcony above the stage is a drummer whose chief function seems to be to deliver sudden, crashing drum fills to punctuate scenes. From the ominous red light of the paper lantern to the jarring drums designed to make the audience as jumpy as poor Blanche, Frecknall is determined not to let anyone get too comfortable.
The effect is to emphasize the words of Tennessee Williams, which can be too easily lost in the shuffle of preconceived notions or past performances. In a production filled with threats (physical, aural, or otherwise) Blanche’s flowery ramblings are a balm to the nerves. I found myself reeling at her declaration, “Don’t you just love those long rainy afternoons in New Orleans when an hour isn’t just an hour – but a little piece of eternity dropped into your hands – and who knows what to do with it?” It’s so hopelessly romantic and delusional, given the powder keg she finds herself trapped in. It’s no wonder that she surrounds herself with beautiful words and pretty things to stave off the nightmares.
In this brutally barebones production, where all the flair that Tennessee Williams might have liked relies on the words of Blanch DuBois to be spun into existence, everything is important. Every inflection of a word, or twitch of a muscle, adds to the tension that breaks in the form of a literal rain curtain by the play’s final act. Exhausted, exhilarated, and more than a little disturbed, you will leave the theater knowing that this was a performance to remember.
By Tennessee Williams
Directed by Rebecca Frecknall
Produced by Almeida Theatre
Cast includes: Patsy Ferran, Paul Mescal, Anjana Vasan
Runs through 6 April 2025
Brooklyn Academy of Music, BAM Harvey Theater
Photo credit: Marc Brenner