Cabaret at the Kit Kat Club revival director Rebecca Frecknall turns her attention to the biting prose of Tennessee Williams in a phenomenal West End import. Playing a limited five-week run at Brooklyn Academy of Music’s Harvey Theatre, A Streetcar Named Desire arrives in a crowded landscape of reboots and revivals. However, what sets it apart is both the staging and the immaculate, Olivier Award-winning ensemble cast. A minimalistic approach emphasizes every dramatic beat, underlining them with the exclamation marks of a one-man orchestra. A sparse set wisely lets the performances do the heavy lifting. Led by a mesmerizing Patsy Ferran as Blanche DuBois and a ferocious Paul Mescal as the unhinged Stanley Kowalski, Streetcar sizzles with energy in a must-see crescendo of pure, stripped down, deeply emotional theatre.
A slightly elevated square stage greets audiences at the massive Harvey Theatre, surrounded by brick from three of its four sides. The brick outlier doesn’t matter much when it comes to the action, as almost all of it takes place exactly dead center. This staging reminded me of the masterful (and underrated) two-part The Inheritance, which utilized somewhat of a similar setup. Also as with that play: the minimalism allows for plenty of surprises, such as immersive rain effects. The smell of cigarettes lingers in the air, reflective of the time period and beautifully commingling with the glow of the stage lights. The piercing noise of a single man sitting on a drum kit adds an extra facet to the tense atmosphere. Whether accompanying one of the many segments utilizing interpretive dance, or in a more literal sense serving to cut up or emphasize the action, the punctuation of the drums and its cymbals caught me off guard several times over. A ghostlike vocalist also pops in from time to time, lending a hypnotic quality by way of her polka stylings.
For those unfamiliar, A Streetcar Named Desire focuses on the arrival of a riveting southern belle named Blanche DuBois to her sister’s humble two-room home. Blanche comes to Stella (Anjana Vasan) really because she has nowhere else to go, strapped for cash and in the throes of a quite serious scandal. But more on that later. Freshly pregnant Stella has her own set of issues, namely a majorly problematic one: the live wire that is Stanley, her husband. The duo engage in screaming matches throughout show, often sniping at one another while Blanche soaks in the luxury of their bathroom tub. Stanley—convinced that plantation-born Blanche is hiding something—does everything in his power to unearth Blanche’s supposed treasure trove of riches in the lonely trunk she brought along. However, he only discovers garish costumes and cheap jewelry. Still, he will stop at nothing to get what Blanche owes him, by way of the constantly-mentioned Napoleonic Code. Anything Stella owns, Stanley also owns.
As this timeless story unfolds, the performances make it riveting to watch despite the familiarity. Patsy Ferran disappears in every extended Blanche monologue, embracing the southern drawl with her entire being. Blanche crystallizes as the heart and soul of this show. That Ferran plays this emotional of a part eight times per week must be quite a burden. Blanche may be tragic, but she has so many shades, including a cutting humor. Ferran chews up Williams’s dialogue and spits it back out somehow feeling fresh and vibrant. In the role immortalized on film by Marlon Brando, the fiery Paul Mescal adds a primal quality to his take on the raging drunk. I already loved Mescal going in; admittedly, the sweaty, wet shirtlessness of his character definitely did not disappoint in the eye candy department. It would also explain the troves of fans eagerly awaiting a chance to say hello at the stage door well before the show’s conclusion. Yet, Mescal makes Stanley a despicable character, one audiences will probably love to hate. He plays an especially vital part in the trajectory of Blanche’s character in Act II. Every spitting row and flirtatious scene channels Mescal’s natural charisma through the filter of Stanley’s brutish heartlessness. Hearing Mescal bellowing the iconic “STELLA!” in a sold out theatre felt magical.
Other notables: Anjana Vasan does what she can as Stella. Vasan shines particularly in the scenes she shares with Ferran’s Blanche, more an understated, if significant, cog in the larger machine. Blanche’s love interest, Mitch (Dwane Walcott), leaves a mark on the show at large by being the sole beam of positivity in Blanche’s life. His character appears far more vulnerable than its cinematic counterpart. Even if she refuses to see him in the daytime and never with the lights on for fear of him discovering her age, Blanche needs someone (anyone!) without an ulterior motive. Once Blanche’s complex backstory unfurls, the show and its themes have been laid bare. Rebecca Frecknall adds new flourishes to her iteration of this classic tale, peppering it with meaningful imagery and a tense atmosphere. Every shouted bit of dialogue zings with the energy of a captivated crowd waiting for a pin to drop. The tension could be cut with a jagged bottle.
There are a couple of issues if truly nitpicking. The lighting can be a bit dark (though clearly a directorial choice), making the facial expressions difficult to see especially for those in mezzanine seats. At times, the experimental style to the bigger moments can rob them of their power. The tertiary characters are underdeveloped, though that problem begins and ends with the original text rather than this fresh take. These are ultimately all minor gripes though, since Rebecca Frecknall effortlessly delivers a worthy reinterpretation of already stellar material. Ageism, female image, brutal desire, toxic masculinity, and misogyny are just as relevant now as they were when Tennessee Williams penned the play in 1947. In this solemn, frequently heavy update of A Streetcar Named Desire, Paul Mescal and Patsy Ferran deliver awards-worthy work that leaves a dark cloud hanging over the viewer long after its curtain call.
A Streetcar Named Desire is currently transporting viewers to New Orleans eight times per week at BAM’s Harvey Theatre. For ticketing information, head over to the official website.
