Madison Ferris, Sally Field, and Joe Mantello
(PHOTOs: JULIETA
CERVANTES)
by Deirdre Donovan
The
Glass Menagerie is
Tennessee Williams’ gentlest play. But with Sam Gold at the helm, it gets
quality of a Midwest prairie stretching into an unknown horizon.
Whether
you like it or not will depend much on your aesthetic taste, tolerance for
experimental theater, and willingness to embrace an American classic without
its clichés. In short, this isn’t your grandmother’s Glass Menagerie. It
isn’t cozy, cuddly, or easily digested.
No
question it will grab you from the get go. Joe Mantello, who plays the
Narrator and the character Tom, materializes on stage, wearing a simple t-shirt
and grey pants, to deliver the mesmerizing Prologue. “Yes, I have tricks in my
pocket, I have things up my sleeve. But I am the opposite of a stage magician.
He gives you illusion that has the appearance of truth. I give you truth in the
pleasant disguise of illusion.”
Although
Mantello may well be the oldest actor ever to play this filial role, he manages
to pull it off convincingly with his trim physique and his sheer stage
charisma. In fact, Mantello’s Tom is the one who sets the poetic tone of the
play and invites the audience to watch the domestic world of the Wingfield
family unfold and take its tragic shape.
For
those who need a refresher on the plot, here it is in a nutshell. Set in St.
Louis during the Great Depression, a faded Southern belle Amanda Wingfield
supports her two adult children Tom and Laura, who have never been able to
break free of her tyrannical grip. The mother, obsessed with finding a husband
for her “crippled” daughter Laura (who devotes most of her time to polishing
the titular “glass menagerie”), has Tom invite his best friend Jim to dinner
one evening, in hopes that sparks might ignite between Laura and Jim. When
things don’t go as planned, we get a revealing look at the dysfunctional
Wingfield clan and the layered psyches of all four characters.
The
acting is sturdy with a couple of standout performances. Sally Fields is
commanding as the Wingfield matriarch, insisting her children become
“successes”, in spite of the bleak fiscal realities of the ‘30s. Fields’
Mother isn’t an unsympathetic character but she does come across at times as
unhinged, especially in the dinner scene when she enters in a pink cotillion
dress that might have flattered her decades ago but now makes her look like a
desperate woman clutching for bygone youth. Fields, whose Southern accent
sounds affected early on, gains a more natural cadence here as she coquettishly
chats with the Gentleman Caller Jim. If you need fresh proof that Fields is
one of our finest living actresses, you must see her latest turn as
Amanda.
The
other standout is Mantello. Although unconventionally cast as the
Narrator/poet Tom who works in the warehouse, he nails his role by showing his
character’s artistic detachment and caring heart in continual dramatic
tension. Yes, he’s determined to escape his mother’s trap of becoming his
sister’s permanent caretaker. But his Tom isn’t heartless or a mirror-image of
his absent father who deserted the family long ago. Mantello’s Tom is no
“hello-goodbye” guy. But he does have a strong sense of survival.
The
remaining cast members, Madison Ferris and Finn Wittrock, acquit themselves
well. Ferris, who has muscular dystrophy in real-life, brings a different
interpretation to the “crippled” Laura. Actresses who have played this iconic
role in the past typically affect a limp. But Madison, when not in her
wheelchair, nimbly maneuvers herself jack-knife style across the stage, with
her hands and feet planted on the stage and derriere in the air. If last
season’s actress in Spring Awakening got kudos for being the first
physically-challenged actress to use a wheelchair on stage, Ferris, with
similar physical limitations, becomes the first one to show that she can act
in—and out—of her wheelchair. Say what you will, this actress has tons of guts
and goes the full distance here.
·
Finn Wittrock and Madison Ferris
Last
but not least, Finn Wittrock is ideal as the Gentleman Caller Jim O’Connor.
Wittrock’s Jim is the ordinary guy who’s got a firm hold on his life and sees
the world for what it is. Although he punctures Amanda Wingfield’s dream of
becoming Laura’s beau and husband, he refuses to be a hypocrite and doesn’t
sugar-coat reality.
Does
Gold’s non-traditional interpretation of The Glass Menagerie remain faithful
to Williams’ text? Well, yes and no. Just as Gold deconstructed Othello earlier
this year at the New York Theatre Wing, he now takes creative license with
Williams’ text. Case in point: William’s Laura plays truant from Rubicam’s Business
College, which is eventually discovered by Amanda when she visits the school
one day. Confronted by her mother, Laura confesses that she had embarrassed
herself at school by vomiting during a speed typing test and rather than return
to school had “been going out walking” to the park or zoo. Given the play’s
casting of Ferris in the daughter’s role, “walking” would be physically
impossible for Laura—and, yes, it momentarily sounds jarring to the ear. Okay,
Gold pushes the dramatic envelope. But he never really goes off the deep end.
The
creative team also departs from conventional staging. Andrew Lieberman’s
capacious set is about as bright and cheery as the entranceway to Carlsbad Caverns. The stage’s back wall is totally black and the spare props are made-up
of modest furniture and a steel cart. Adam Silverman’s lighting is harsh in
many scenes, but it turns downright poetic when Laura and Jim have their
heart-to-heart on the stage floor—and it wonderfully enhances their soulful
talk. Wojciech Dziedzic’s costumes are unfussy, with the one exception being
Amanda’s pink tulle dress at dinner. If clothing can speak volumes about a
character, this one surely reveals that Amanda is living in the past, those
days when she was a popular and much sought-after young woman.
No
matter how many times you have seen The Glass Menagerie, you should go
to this latest revival by Gold. This is the most unsentimental, stripped-down,
and provocative interpretation of the classic ever. Gold gives a new
contemporary voice to William’s autobiographical play. And, say what you will,
it’s unforgettable.
Through
July 2nd.
At
the Belasco Theatre, 111 West 44th Street, Manhattan.
For
tickets and more information, phone 212-239-6200 or visit
www.telecharge.com.
Running
time: 2 hours and 5 minutes, with no intermission.