Theatre review: A Streetcar Named Desire

Warning, the first couple of rows may get wet: Yes, Rebecca Frecknall's production of A Streetcar Named Desire stars the Internet's official fantasy boyfriend of 2020. Oh, there's also regular floods of rain pouring on every side of Madeleine Girling's in-the-round set. Frecknall returns to Tennessee Williams, and to the star of her career-making Summer and Smoke, although the latter collaboration is a last-minute one: Future Dame Patsy Ferran plays Blanche Dubois only because original star Lydia Wilson got injured. The first week of previews was cancelled to give the new lead at least a little rehearsal time, but apart from a running time that'll likely tighten up by the delayed press night, there's little on stage to suggest the production has only been in front of audiences for a few nights, least of all from the extraordinary leading lady.

Ferran's Blanche takes the titular streetcar to the New Orleans neighbourhood where her sister Stella (Anjana Vasan) lives with her husband Stanley Kowalski (Paul Mescal.) The sisters grew up in a Mississippi plantation house, but as the only surviving members of their family they weren't able to make up for the financial trouble they inherited.

Blanche is theoretically visiting during her summer holiday from her job as a high school teacher, but in fact she needs a place to stay more permanently: The house and land have been repossessed, and for reasons she's sketchy about she also seems to have lost her job. But she hasn't lost her airs and graces, and she quickly gets on the wrong side of Stanley, who as well as being offended by her openly treating him as a brainless beast, is angry at her apparent mismanagement of Stella's, and by extension his, money.

A Streetcar Named Desire is often seen as the story of the boorish Stanley driving his sister-in-law to madness, but despite Mescal being the production's bums-on-seats name, Frecknall's take doesn't afford him that much credit. Stanley's climactic, sexually violent confrontation with Blanche may be what tips her over the edge, but the evening is all about peeling back the layers of just how damaged she already is when she first sets foot in the flat. Her obvious alcohol problem, and insistence that she's unused to having more than one drink, are initially played for laughs, but there's always something sympathetic about her, and though her romantic pursuit of Stanley's army buddy Mitch (Dwane Walcott) has a mercenary side, the two actors are so awkwardly sweet together you root for them anyway.

The long first act (1 hour 40 minutes until the interval, pee accordingly,) delves into the reasons for both her alcoholism and the scandalous behaviour that drove her away from Mississippi, and Frecknall's production is laser-focused on her defining trauma of being widowed while still a teenager. I don't think I've ever seen it shown so clearly that Blanche throws herself at the Young Collector (Jabez Sykes) because she sees in him The Boy whose death she blames herself for (and this is before Sykes returns to double as The Boy in flashback/dream sequences.) By the second act Ferran has taken us from looking at Blanche as a borderline comic eccentric, to absolutely feeling for her painful mental collapse. There's perhaps a few similarities to her Summer and Smoke performance but if someone gets given a week to rehearse one of the most iconic stage roles you can forgive them for taking a few shortcuts.

Also harking back to Summer and Smoke is Frecknall's use of one musical instrument to define the soundscape (sound design by Peter Rice.) Instead of a row of broken pianos here it's one, very much functioning, drum kit that provides both sound effects and a relentless primal beat; along with the occasional curtains of rain, the noisy chatter from the neighbours and the fact that the supporting cast stay visible offstage watching throughout, it helps provide Blanche's oppressive mental landscape. Visually the other main feature is the way Lee Curran's lighting takes to heart Blanche's desire to stay in the shadows - the rare moments of her stepping out into bright light become a jolt.

Mescal's Stanley doesn't begin as a brute but as an undeniable charmer; it's only when her superior attitude contrasts with her losing the family's money that he turns violently against Blanche. I did think at first that the abusive marriage to Stella would become more of a focal point than it ended up being, but its passionate contradictions of sex and violence end up being a contrast with the different unhealthy ways Blanche's own sexuality expressed itself. Ultimately this is a 1940s' idea of what an acceptable relationship looks like, and the brief glimpses we get of neighbours Steve and Eunice's (Ralph Davis and Janet Etuk) marriage give us similarly extreme ups and downs that suggests this is the norm; rightly or wrongly, Blanche's arrival is seen as the factor that tips Stanley into extremes.

Honestly there's little to suggest the production's been troubled or that it wasn't built for Ferran (who might seem a bit young for the role but isn't that much - Blanche may often be played by actresses in their forties and fifties but the text suggests she's in her thirties, trying to pass for still being in her twenties.) This is a fresh and intense take on a familiar story, and frankly if Frecknall continues to give us a stripped-back Williams every four or five years, with or without Ferran, I'm interested to see her continue to explore his work.

A Streetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams is booking until the 4th of February at the Almeida Theatre.

Running time: 3 hours 5 minutes including interval.

Photo credit: Marc Brenner.