Content warning: please note that this review – like the production itself – contains reference to sexual violence.
Tennessee Williams’ play A Streetcar Named Desire, first performed in 1947, is one that feels hauntingly new on stage today. Its penetrating exploration of domestic abuse, what we might now call toxic relationships, mental health and the stigma that comes along with it, women’s rights, gender norms and divisions of social class strike a note with spectators today, making for a formidable production. Director Josh Seymour’s production colourfully blends these themes in an enthralling performance that feels both fresh and relevant.
The story follows Blanche DuBois (Joanna Vanderham) arriving in the New Orleans French Quarter, from her home in Laurel, to visit her younger sister, Stella (Amara Okereke) and her husband, Stanley Kowalski (Jake Dunn). During her stay, Blanche tries to maintain the image of a sophisticated, stylish and graceful woman but her pretence is unraveled when she is revealed to be homeless, out of money and unemployed. Vanderham brings an endearing quality to Blanche’s character that really propels the narrative, helping the audience to connect with her declining mental state and playing into her vulnerability. She effortlessly communicates both subtle nuances and exaggerated mannerisms that divulge Blanche’s inner struggles, delivering a strong, captivating performance filled with charm and moments of comedy.
Vanderham forms a fantastic and dynamic pair with Jake Dunn’s Stanley who establishes Stanley as a well-rounded, fiercely proud and complicated young man with a desire or drive to be brutally masculine. Whilst Blanche’s insecurities about her age, appearance, perception and romantic life are more permanently on show, Dunn manages to tap into Stanley’s vulnerabilities masked by his bravado; this provides a compelling coherence between the two warring, and antithetical, individuals as tensions between them simmer. Okereke’s Stella, then, poses as the gentle middle-ground between the pair, loyal to both and understanding of their unique struggles, a character for the audience to morally align with, making the play’s ending – where Stella ultimately decides to have her sister sectioned – feel especially poignant. The tones and accents used by all of the actors were faultless, overseen in rehearsal by dialect coach Aundrea Fudge and vocal coach Tess Dignan, creating a transporting piece which encapsulates 1940s New Orleans wonderfully. Notably, in this production, Allan Gray, Blanche’s late husband is staged: a character that is normally omnipresent but never seen. Allan, although vital to Blanche’s development, needlessly lurked on the outskirts of the stage. His intermittent romantic singing stressed his haunting effect on Blanche but his silent bodily presence – permanently visible throughout the second act – brought little to the performance and left me thinking that Williams’ decision to not personify the role was one best left unaltered.
Stella and Stanley’s apartment was staged on a dizzying, revolving platform, accompanied by a bath tub, complete with blue lights and outpouring steam, on its outer circle that rotated in the opposite direction. Frankie Bradshaw’s set design was both sleek and meaningful as the spinning plate the characters were atop extended their psychological states into the physical realm, replicating their complex and crumbling minds; as well as mirroring the energy of the play’s violent scenes bursting out of the claustrophobic New Orleans heat. The soundscape (crafted by sound designer Alexa Faye Braithwaite and musical director Lauren Dyer) of gentle jazz, played by a pianist onstage, evoked the ambiance of a restaurant setting. The soothing music complemented the performance and its setting, only to be sharply punctured by Stanley’s moments of physical aggression, heightening the intensity.
The most impressive scene came at the climax of the play during Stanley’s rape of Blanche. He carried her limp and defeated body into the bath tub and began to undress himself. She calmly climbed out of the blue-tiled bath and on top of a table centre stage. Stanley reached into the tub and pulled out a large sheet of frilled paper, metaphorically standing in for Blanche and her dress, still in the tub. He tore the paper into pieces and with each tear, Blanche ripped an item of her clothing off, gasping with terror. The scene tastefully staged what is a sensitive and savage part of the play, in a visceral way that took nothing away from its brutality, rather, enhancing it, whilst avoiding feeling gratuitous. This visually arresting performance placed emphasis on the psychological impact rather than solely bodily, an important connection to make in this play.
The Crucible, Sheffield Theatres
Until Saturday 29th March
Cast: Bridgette Amofah, Lia Burge, Nuhazet Diaz Cano, Jake Dunn, Tayla Kovacevic-Ebong, Jack Ifrecio, Amara Okereke, Dominic Rye and Joanna Vanderham.
Author: Tennessee Williams
Director: Josh Seymours
Designer: Frankie Bradshaw
Lighting Designer: Howard Harrison
Running Time: Approx 3 hours including interval
Photo Credit: Marc Brenner