Williams’ Timeless Poetic Realism Is Reconstructed in A Bold, Different ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’

Williams’ Timeless Poetic Realism Is Reconstructed in A Bold, Different ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’

By Lynn Venhaus

A bold, ambitious “A Streetcar Named Desire” is the centerpiece in this year’s 10th annual Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis.

A contemporary interpretation of the playwright’s most iconic work nearly 80 years after his masterpiece stunned Broadway audiences, director Michael James Reed asks us to look at the Pulitzer Prize and Tony-winning drama with fresh eyes. He prefers the term ‘reconstruction’ instead of ‘deconstruction,’ and that is what he delivers.

Already a relic from the past, fading and fragile Southern belle Blanche DuBois arrives at her sister Stella’s doorstep, to stay at her run-down two-room flat. Stella’s brutish working-class husband Stanley Kowalski isn’t aware of her visit and, immediately agitated, locks horns with his attention-seeking sister-in-law.

Over the course of the stifling summer, tempers flare, and Stanley becomes increasingly volatile, his bullying obsessive, while Blanche unravels – her displacement, discomfort and disorders adding to her breakdown. Stanley’s verbal and physical abuse becomes too much, leading to sexual abuse.

Todd D’Amour and Beth Bartley. Suzy Gorman photo.

This doomed power play leaves wreckage from a predator and prey situation, for Blanche appears like a frightened caged animal, her feminine wiles no longer effective.

Her final line, as she clings to a gentle doctor (David Wassilak) escorting her away: “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers” is shattering.

The cast portrays these indelible roles through a lens that is both rooted in Tennessee Williams’ dysfunctional framework and then Reed’s challenge to bring something different to their characterizations.

Some of the choices go outside the lines of our perceptions — with Todd D’Amour’s tightly wound abusive Stanley displaying pathological cruelty, Beth Bartley’s grittier desperate Blanche masking her many indignities, and Isa Venere’s younger Stella enabling and helpless. Think of it as an American horror story in retrospect.

As the local festival has amplified the past 10 years, Williams’ works are about loss in some way – of beauty, love, youth, identity and/or way of life, and this manifests through a range of characters developed during a career spanning 50 years, from the 1930s to his death in 1983 at age 71. After “The Glass Menagerie” made him a rising star in 1944, he opened 14 plays on Broadway from 1947 to 1980.

This is the first time that I really felt Williams’ own torment, of how humiliating it was for him to work with bullies like Stanley at the International Shoe Company during his formative years here, at a time when he was not free to express his sexuality and there was a very specific masculine ‘standard’ in society, not to mention another variation on his beloved sister Rose, mentally challenged at a time it was not understood. His own feelings poured out in these characters.

Looking back today, one sees societal changes colliding in Williams’ most famous work –the new South vs. the past, and women’s evolution regarding gender roles.

Post-war America, during this long, hot summer on Elysian Fields Street, adjacent to the French Quarter of New Orleans, we feel the heat. Sometimes, the atmosphere feels suffocating without any relief, while other times it feels like the tension is so thick and volatile, it could combust.

In that setting, the raw intensity seeps through, revealing harsh truths and emphasizes Williams’ timeless themes of illusion, trauma, power, control, and desire, and when reality hits head-on, how it changes expectations.

Beth Bartley and Isa Venere. Photo by Suzy Gorman.

After the play debuted to a thunderous 7-minute standing ovation on Dec. 3, 1947, it was adapted into an acclaimed Academy Award-winning film in 1951, with three of the four principals reprising their roles– Marlon Brando, Kim Hunter and Karl Malden, but Vivien Leigh as Blanche instead of Jessica Tandy.

Let’s face it, comparisons are inevitable, and “Streetcar” continues to be performed around the globe, never out of view. Andre Previn’s 1998 opera is part of Opera Theatre of St. Louis’ line-up next summer and a 2022 London play revival transferred to off-Broadway earlier this year for a limited run starring acclaimed Irish actor Paul Mescal, who won an Olivier Award as Stanley, and Spanish-British actress Patsy Ferran as Blanche.

The roles are demanding because they can easily go over-the-top into caricatures. After all, their indelible work has been exaggerated into comic archetypes in pop culture for decades.

Bartley’s panicked Blanche reunites with her sister, and Venere’s Stella, goes into caretaker mode, even when she learns that their family estate, Belle Rive in Laurel, Mississippi, has been lost to creditors.

Eric Dean White and Beth Bartley as Mitch and Blanche. Photo by Suzy Gorman.

A traumatized Blanche recalls taking care of their dying relatives without help. She says she has taken a leave of absence from teaching high school literature because her nerves are so frayed. Bartley and Venere share a comfortable chemistry.

Enter suspicious, coarse and crude Stanley. D’Amour isn’t imposing, nor is he articulate. With mumbled lines, he’s hard to understand and harder to relate to, and that’s unfortunate because it throws the balance off.

Stella, caught in the middle, must try to keep the peace between the warring factions, but she is ineffective. She and Stanley share a tempestuous sexual attraction, and his aggressive domestic violence is despicable (never acceptable, no matter what era, but being a batterer fits his offensive personality).

While Stanley seethes, Blanche makes herself at home, languishing in the bathtub, lounging in their shabby quarters, secretly drinking, and putting on her Southern Belle airs.

With her fanciful ways, she attracts an admirer — Stanley’s war buddy and poker-playing friend, Harold “Mitch” Mitchell (Eric Dean White), a bachelor who lives with his ailing mother. A raging Stanley will destroy that tender union after uncovering Blanche’s scandalous secrets back home.

Photo by Suzy Gorman

Trembling like an older, needier Judy Garland, whom she resembles, and acting delusional like the moody narcissistic Norma Desmond in “Sunset Boulevard,” Bartley is heart-breaking living out a fantasy life while she is clearly in decline. Now that we know more about mental health, it’s obvious Blanche has Histrionic Personality Disorder.

It’s a devastating portrait, and she also reveals a skilled manipulator, who has managed to survive using the theatrical tools in her toolbox.

As Mitch, White shows his sweet side, and two lonely people find comfort in each other. She’s flirtatious while she tells tall tales, and he’s smitten. When he confronts Blanche with what he’s discovered about her many liaisons and seductions in her hometown, though, his anger is visible – he’s done with being a nice guy.

The other supporting characters are lived-in examples of the area – top-shelf veterans Emily Baker and Isaiah DiLorenzo are their loud neighbors (and landlords) Eunice and Steve, who live upstairs. DiLorenzo and Wassilak are the two cast members that were in the festival’s award-winning 2018 “Streetcar” production.

Jeremiah King is a young collector, Cedric Leiba Jr. is another poker player, and Gwynneth Rausch is a nurse. Offstage, Jocelyn Padilla voices a flower collector. She also served as the intimacy coordinator. Jack Kalan was the fight choreographer.

Both Matthew McCarthy’s moody lighting design and Phillip Evans’ sound design are strong in this production, with dramatic illuminations and a discordant cacophony and jazzy-blues music adding to the atmosphere.

Two elements puzzled me. For a story that emphasizes claustrophobia in such small quarters, the set design did not appear so. Patrick Huber favored a nod to mid-century modern décor, with a neon palette more suited to another era or pre-school, that was stretched out on the Grandel stage.

Shevare Perry’s costume design for most of the cast worked fine, but Blanche’s daytime outfits appeared misfitting and Stella’s pants in the opening scene were jarring. Blanche’s flouncy nightgowns and bright red satin robe were just right.

Perhaps those choices were all in keeping with tossing out pre-conceived notions for this production.

Set design by Patrick Huber, lighting design by Matthew McCarthy. Photo by Suzy Gorman.

“A Streetcar Named Desire” maintains its power in Williams’ vivid poetic realism and lyrical dialogue that continues to captivate. While I prefer more emotionally charged character renderings, which was what Blanche aimed for, instead of a detached one like Stanley and Stella, these were choices made for a different take. In real life, D’Amour and Bartley are married.

Williams’ view of outsiders, of deeply flawed humans, continues to resonate some 80 years later, and that’s worth celebrating.

The Tennessee Williams Festival presents “A Streetcar Named Desire” Aug. 7 – 17 at the Grandel Theatre in Grand Center. For more information, visit www.twstl.org

Blanche DuBois (Beth Bartley). Photo by Suzy Gorman.

Albion Theatre’s ‘Colder Than Here’ Sensitively Grapples with Our Humanity

Albion Theatre’s ‘Colder Than Here’ Sensitively Grapples with Our Humanity

By Lynn Venhaus

As we all accept that we will die, confronting our own mortality seems to be a lifelong journey – and often tip-toed around with family and friends. How we deal with the inevitability of our end and the loss of our loved ones leads to interesting debates.

Such is the case with Albion Theatre’s latest offering – “Colder Than Here” by Laura Wade. The British playwright sensitively tackles the tricky subject matter, as a terminally ill cancer patient plans her funeral, selects her final resting place, and attempts to discuss the topic with her family.

Grief mixed with humor? Yes, it’s tactful, situational and conveys both pain and love, as does exploring complex family relationships. With utmost delicacy, director Robert Ashton has gracefully staged this comic drama in the intimate Kranzberg Black Box Theatre.

Ashton has cast a quartet that can carry the weight of these characters and still be likable, starting with Susan Wylie as the mom staring at her own fate with clear eyes and an open heart.

The family – LIvy Potthoff, Susan Wylie, David Wassilak and Anna Langdon. Photo by John Lamb.

In typical Mom fashion, Myra is the caretaker, but now others must take care of her. Wylie is convincing as the kindhearted and considerate mother who is trying to nudge her family into accepting what’s ahead. She balances Myra’s inner strength with the outward effects of bone cancer on a human body and does so subtly in an exceptionally well-modulated performance.

Her family’s reluctance to accept the inevitable is understandable as they each have different ways of dealing with the impending loss — but exasperating for her. As Myra becomes sicker, she is aware of the ticking clock, if others aren’t, and she wants matters confirmed. She has even prepared a Power Point with fancy fonts, which garners mixed reactions.

Her husband, Alec, in a skillfully nuanced portrait by David Wassilak, is a taciturn sort used to blocking out the cacophony of three women in the house. Of course he cares for them, but like most dads, he has his routines. He really doesn’t want to talk about anything beyond the immediate issues, like the chilly house because of a wonky boiler.

Now, the daughters are grown, live on their own, but return for visits or temporary stays. How daughters Harriet and Jenna cope with adulting is a mixed bag. They couldn’t be more opposite in appearance and attitudes.

Wylie and Livy Potthoff. Photo by John Lamb.

Anna Langdon is Harriet, the more level-headed, ‘settled’ one, and Livy Potthoff is the rebellious unfiltered Jenna, an impressive debut in a showier part – the daughter who everyone is used to ‘acting out.

The girls express their worries, sadness and guilt, and it is frightening new territory. While they bicker, they still care for each other amd realize they will need each other..

Langdon conveys Harriet’s attempts to maintain control but her anxiety is manifested through eczema. Jenna, who has overcome an eating disorder but not boyfriend troubles, becomes a reliable companion for her mom when checking out cemeteries. You just never know how people will respond.

Wade’s first published play opened in London in 2003, and it’s obvious she has experienced grief and loss, for she created authentic dialogue and believable situations to offer poignant reflection.

Anyone who has gone through similar situations will relate. Grief is a very personal experience, and one can often take comfort with others going through the same thing – or shut down. Everyone is different in how they handle it.

Livy Potthoff and Wassilak. Photo by John Lamb.

A family can grow closer, which happens here. They go through feelings of denial, despair, rage, isolation and helplessness. In finally talking about it, they share warm family moments that lead to empathy, understanding and perspective.

Trying not to be morose or maudlin, Wade successfully integrated gentle humor into the mix. And comic relief is welcome, in any circumstance but important here as a coping mechanism.

In newsroom parlance, gallows humor is resorted to when headlines are routinely horrific, so to continue working on tough subjects, someone will crack an inappropriate joke that makes people laugh, thus releasing tension.

The play’s funniest sight gag is a painted and decorated cardboard coffin sitting in the living room (kudos to set builder Jeff Kargus).

We’re not talking a gut-busting farce like the legendary “Chuckles the Clown” funeral episode of “The Mary Tyler Moore Show,” or even the amusing Monty Python ditty “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life,” now featured in the musical “Spamalot,” which incidentally is the most requested song at British funerals.

Wassilak, Potthoff, Wylie and Anna Langdon. Photo by John Lamb.

But the humor lands, and it’s a nice component. The cast’s emotional journeys are natural as they each grapple with reality, eventually coming together in their shared grief. And because of the mom’s efforts, they can start to heal.

Instead of projections used to show different cemetery grounds, Gwynneth Rausch is a narrator who explains where each setting is and what it looks like.

The simple performance space features a living room with ‘dad’s chair’ and a sofa, and the outdoor gravesites are represented by Astroturf-type grass. The well-appointed set is designed by Kristin Meyer, with construction help from Kargus.

Michelle Zielinski’s lighting design astutely captured the atmosphere, and Ted Drury’s sound design – and Power Point presentation (kudos for the Papyrus!) are excellent. Rausch handled the props and costume designer Tracey Newcomb comfortably outfitted the characters in age-appropriate attire. CJ Langdon was the assistant director.

“Colder Than Here” is a candid account of what people experience on a daily basis, and is sensitively handled so that the points are well-taken. It helps that everyone involved in the project brings an admirable level of commitment to telling this story in a helpful, heart-warming way. And as always, with Albion’s plays set in the UK, the dialect work is impeccable.

When going through difficulties, the only real answer is Love. Do love, never forget to remember. It won’t change the outcome, but it will help get through another day. And that’s a good takeaway from Wade’s play and Albion Theatre’s thoughtful efforts.

Albion Theatre presents “Colder Than Here” June 13-29 at the Kranzberg Black Box Theatre, 501 N. Grand Blvd., St. Louis. The performances are Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m. and Sundays at 2 p.m. The play is presented as a one-act in 90 minutes without intermission. For more information, visit www.AlbionTheatreSTL.org.

Wassilak, Wylie and Langdon. Photo by John Lamb.

Albion Theatre’s ‘Woman in Mind’ Vividly Contrasts Fantasy Life with Harsh Realism in an Acting Showcase

Albion Theatre’s ‘Woman in Mind’ Vividly Contrasts Fantasy Life with Harsh Realism in an Acting Showcase

By Lynn Venhaus

Something is noticeably off-kilter as “Woman in Mind” embarks on an exploration of mental illness, an unusual dramedy from one of England’s most highly regarded playwrights, Alan Ayckbourn.

Albion Theatre, which specializes in works centered in the United Kingdom, tackles another complex production with elan. With its rigorous roles and uncommon style, “Woman in Mind” has a higher level of difficulty to pull off than last year’s amusing Ayckbourn black comedy “Absent Friends.”

But as with all their shows, they attract a top-tier ensemble, and this one’s a well-modulated unit – with each performer standing out in their debuts with the company.

Director Robert Ashton keeps the audience on their toes, for this play is told from a subjective first-person perspective. The imaginary world is vividly presented.

Ayckbourn, who has written 90 plays, has often toyed with conventional structures and crafted eccentric characters, many of whom are going through relationship difficulties and are at a crossroads.

He is fond of presenting class and gender discrepancies, with his quirky wit, and this one tackles certain failures to address mental health before it reaches crisis level.

Word is that “Woman in Mind” draws from his mother’s nervous breakdown and his estranged relationship with his son. In any case, it feels authentic despite the absurdities, and some outlandish swerves later in the narrative.

Written in 1985, the play is set in a home’s backyard garden in a small town south of London, and a loveless marriage is the springboard to how neglect manifests madness.

The main character, Susan, appears dazed and confused after falling while doing yardwork, initially conked on the head by a rake. Never leaving the stage, Emily Baker is compelling as she expresses every fleeting emotion when trying to figure out what has happened to her.

Emily Baker, Matt Hanify and Ryan Lawson-Maeske. Photo by John Lamb.

It’s a tour de force performance, for Baker adroitly alternates between a surreal dream life and a grim nightmarish reality. While a brain injury is no laughing matter, how Ayckbourn handles the tonal shifts is interesting.

Miserable spouses have been key components to social commentaries the women’s liberation movement of the 1970s produced in films such as “Diary of a Mad Housewife,” “An Unmarried Woman,” and “Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore,” and one could draw similarities here.

Ayckbourn is actually bold and daring when revealing the two very different scenarios as supporting characters are introduced. We see what Susan sees and hears what she does, and the blurred lines are striking.

Danny Brown’s thoughtful performance as Bill Windsor, Susan’s concerned, caring doctor, triggers the red flags. The hallucinations are played for laughs, not unlike a vintage screwball comedy.

When an attentive husband, a jovial brother and an adoring daughter show up, acting more like characters in a modern prescription drug commercial or referencing a 1960s TV family sitcom, the unreal atmosphere is intriguing.

It helps that Isaiah Di Lorenzo, in jaunty Cary Grant mode, and Joseph Garner, as an exaggerated version of beloved Brit comic actor Terry Thomas, willingly chew the scenery playing the fantasy husband Andy and cheerful sibling Tony. Both forces of nature on local stages, their performances always entertain and usually have a surprise element.

The expressive relationship dynamics point to Susan’s unhappiness. Sarah Vallo plays the fantasy daughter Lucy in the image of a perky, agreeable debutante that appears to be her mum’s best friend.

Joseph Garner and Emily Baker. Photo by John Lamb.

These idealistic images contrast sharply with the real people causing her pain. Matt Hanify plays her dull and self-absorbed husband Gerald, a vicar, as an unaffectionate stick-in-the-mud, and Ryan Lawson-Maeske is her tone-deaf son Rick, an ungrateful selfish adult who hasn’t communicated with his mother since he joined a cult, but now is free.

From her point of view, neither are willing to give her what she craves, and their lack of compassion has led to Susan’s breaking point.

These are unsympathetic roles convincingly portrayed by Hanify and Lawson-Maeske. But in another twist, they offer some harsh truths about Susan’s failings as a wife and mother that add another layer of dysfunction.

In a comic relief role, Susan Wylie is Muriel, Susan’s sister-in-law who often acts as a housekeeper, equal parts exasperated and daffy. And her culinary mishaps are hilarious. She is obsessed, however, with her deceased husband.

Because a nervous breakdown is a central theme, one imagines an unsettling and disturbing conclusion is inevitable, a la Tennessee Williams, rather than a happy musical comedy ending.

Aiding the creeping darkness is fine technical work from the creative staff. Michelle Zielinski’s lighting design and Jacob Baxley’s sound design enhance the moods while Tracey Newcomb’s costume choices match the personalities involved.

Erik Kuhn’s straightforward scenic design simply depicted a tidy garden, and he also oversaw the crisp tech work. Gwynneth Rausch’s ace work in multiple roles – assistant director, stage manager, and props – is again commendable.

The play, at about 2.5 hours plus intermission, becomes tedious with nonsensical gibberish in the final stretch as we toggle back-and-forth between a heightened reality and an increasingly wild series of events surrounding Lucy’s wedding that indicates David Lynchian weirdness.

But Baker’s mesmerizing performance showcases her keen intelligence and grasp of the character’s requirements, and that level of difficulty is not unlike a marathon runner, for the stamina on display is extraordinary.

After establishing herself as one of the more accomplished performers in town, she took a hiatus several years ago for all the right reasons, and now is back on the boards. It’s an exciting leading role return that should not be missed.

Joseph Garner, Danny Brown and Isaiah Di Lorenzo. Photo by John Lamb.

Albion Theatre presents “Woman in Mind” June 7 – 23 weekends at the Kranzberg Black Box, with performances at 8 p.m. Friday and Saturday, and at 2 p.m. on Sunday.  For more information, visit www.AlbionTheatreSTL.org.

Albion’s Heart-Tugging ‘Molly Sweeney’ Showcases Vivid Portrayals

Albion’s Heart-Tugging ‘Molly Sweeney’ Showcases Vivid Portrayals

By Lynn Venhaus

Heartwarming and heartbreaking, “Molly Sweeney” lingers.

Albion Theatre’s intriguing first foray into producing an Irish play is a poignant mix of comedy and drama that prompts further reflection.

Three engaging performers, all delivering memory monologues without interaction, warmly relay their perspectives in an intimate setting that becomes quite special.

A master storyteller, playwright Brian Friel (1929-2015) followed in the grand Irish tradition of entertaining people through emotional connection. Considered one of the best modern dramatists, he published 24 plays, including “Philadelphia, Here I Come,” “Translations” and “Dancing at Lughnasa.”

In this thoughtful 1994 work, he intertwined hope and despair, fantasy and reality, and fate and destiny. He based his title character on a true story brought to light by famous neurologist Oliver Sacks, in an essay “To See and Not See,” later published in “An Anthropologist on Mars.”

The nearly unsinkable Molly is inspired by an Oklahoma man who had been functionally blind his whole life and underwent a rare operation to partially restore his sight, at the urging of his fiancé, in 1991. While initially the surgery was a success, the consequences were something else entirely.

In splendid lyrical prose, Friel weaves the frames of mind of three distinctive characters, whose meditations on their life choices are at once universal and specific – the highs and lows, the ups and downs, the triumphs, and the losses. This cast grabs our attention by pulling our heartstrings hard.

Molly (Maggie Wininger), 41, has been blind since she was 10 months old. An optimist despite her affliction, she takes delight in the simple pleasures of her life in Ballybeg, a fictional Irish town. She talks about her friends and neighbors with great affection, and is married to spirited Frank (CJ Langdon), who finds joy and wonder in nearly everything.

He persuades Molly, along with an eye surgeon, Mr. Rice (Paul Gutting), to go through an operation that may restore her sight. He thinks she’ll be complete. After all, what does she have to lose? (oh, in hindsight…).

Langdon, Wininger and Gutting. Photo by John Lamb

A radiant Wininger imbues Molly with cheer and charm. She’s realistic about the condition she lives with, daring not to dream of happiness ever after.

As their travails unfold, the trio spurs thoughts about how we perceive our place in the world, how we affect people and how we are affected by others during our lifetime learning processes.

C.J. Langdon, a newcomer to St. Louis, is impressive in his regional professional debut. As Frank, a tad off the wall, he’s enthusiastic in his outlook on life and dearly loves his wife, although he’s not as accomplished as others. His heart is pure, like Molly’s, and he is very funny.

Mr. Rice, the surgeon, has had more hard knocks than he wants people to know about, but his telltale sign of trouble is the copious amounts of whiskey he consumes. A once promising doctor, a tough betrayal sent him reeling, and he’s a shadow of his former self. But somehow, he pulled it together to give Molly back her sight. Will it restore his career?

Returning to the stage after 15 years’ absence, Gutting is a strong force, conveying his character’s success and failures in measured tones, and the regret is palpable.

The beauty of a black-box stage is how we can witness these deeply felt performances up close, and the attentive actors put their personal stamp on them.

Robert Ashton has superbly cast and directed this show, welcoming a shining Wininger back on stage after a real-life break to become a mother of two while introducing a fresh young talent in Langdon and heralding an admirable comeback by Gutting.

All three are marvelously in sync as they subtly shift tones, veering from elation and exuberance to deflated and melancholy.

Sadly, this trajectory reveals how Molly’s inherent gaiety about her independent life that Wininger beautifully embodies at first will seep away as she wrestles with all the expectations that sight has done to her psyche  – and how she was influenced by these two well-meaning men (they have their own dreams about being heroes).

Wininger bends her whole body to show us how Molly has used touch, smells, sounds and her own adaptations to live productively. It’s a noteworthy expressive performance physically besides nailing an appealing regional accent and captivating us with her tales.

In Friel’s examination of their lives, he raises questions about our quests for improvement at others’ expense if we’re comfortable with our life — perhaps we should be content with the cards we’re dealt. We should think about what we want, and not base decisions to please others, and maybe those urging us to change should step back.

The observations are sharply in focus in Albion’s finely put together work. An expert team behind the scenes – Gwynneth Rausch as assistant director and stage manager, Erik Kuhn’s effective minimalist set design, Eric Wennlund’s astute lighting design and Ashton’s precise sound design – keep attention on the characters.

Costume designer Tracey Newcomb dressed them in comfy attire appropriate to their social place – an attractive print dress for Molly, casual sweater for Frank, and then jacket and corduroys for the doctor.

Albion always spotlights music reflecting their shows’ culture, and their pre-show and intermission pieces are written by Turlough O’Carolan, an 18th century blind harpist, composer, and singer that some consider Ireland’s national composer.

It suits the presentation well, just like everything assembled for this stirring piece.

First performed in Dublin, “Molly Sweeney” arrived in America in 1996 for an off-Broadway production by Roundabout Theatre starring Catherine Byrne as Molly, Alfred Molina as Frank, and Jason Robards as Mr. Rice. That show won the Lucille Lortel Award for Outstanding Play. A revival happened in 2013 in west London, then the Irish Repertory Theatre performed it on screen in 2020.

Albion’s smart choice allows us to delve into Friel’s discerning sensibilities and vivid characters passionately refreshed by Wininger, Langdon and Gutting. The narrative is as indelible as the actors.

I appreciated their eloquent interpretations very much, introducing me to a play I was unfamiliar with, and now will not forget.  

Albion Theatre presents “Molly Sweeney” March 15 through March 31 at the Kranzberg Black Box Theatre, 501 N. Grand Blvd, St. Louis, MO 63103. For more details on tickets and times, go to Albion Theatre: https://albiontheatrestl.org/tickets/

Photo by John Lamb

Performances Power An Intriguing Mystery-Thriller ‘Mindgame’

Performances Power An Intriguing Mystery-Thriller ‘Mindgame’

By Lynn Venhaus

“Mindgame” is one of those clever psychological thrillers that keeps you guessing through two acts, as the twists and gasps mount.

Set in an experimental maximum-security asylum for the criminally insane, a feeling of dread permeates the drab walls of Fairfields, which is located in an isolated part of the English countryside. In the director’s office, you can only imagine what horrors are on the other side of the door.

The program notes state that “nothing is what it seems.”

The 1999 play written by Anthony Horowitz is a rather verbose exercise, but the tension builds as we question who is legit and who is unhinged, and why the psychopaths who live undetected next door send chills up our spines.

It takes place in the summer at the turn of the 21st century, hence the modern references instead of the dated Agatha Christie-Arthur Conan Doyle tropes.

When Act One begins, a journalist has an appointment to see the director in hopes of gaining permission to interview a notorious serial killer named Easterman for a true-crime book. Easterman’s terrifying string of murders were grisly – and we’ll hear about them in more detail. Would you go near Hannibal Lecter or Ed Gein?

We will also hear about more cases, and while Easterman is fictional, the other stories are based on real murderers. For instance, sadist Andrei Chikatilo who is mentioned killed more than 50 women and children.

As presented by Albion Theatre, “Mindgame” is a tour de force for its two leading actors, Chuck Winning and Nick Freed, who are reminiscent of Michael Caine and Laurence Olivier going toe to toe (or head-to-head) in the brilliant 1972 film “Sleuth,” which was based on Anthony Shaffer’s Tony-winning play. (Fun fact: Both were so captivating that they were nominated for Oscars, losing to Marlon Brando for “The Godfather.”)

The third cast member, Nicole Angeli, is Nurse Paisley, and as always, she delivers a multi-layered performance in a smaller supporting, but pivotal, role.

Winning, Angeli and Freed. Photo by John Lamb

Winning, as Doctor Farquhar, and Freed, as writer Mark Styler, are on stage nearly the whole time, and work so well together that it’s like watching a 5-set tennis match at the Wimbledon finals, such are the nimble verbal volleys and quicksilver shifts of power between their characters.

Earlier this year, both actors stood out in Albion’s second play, “The Birthday Party.” As a pair of menacing villains, Winning was a revelation and Freed, who moved here from Chicago, made a stunning debut.

Winning’s Farquhar is garrulous, pompous, and brainy, displaying contempt for the patients and superiority in his psychoanalysis and therapy skills. When he pontificates about his perception of how to treat the mentally ill, Winning’s hot-air blathering teeters on that fine line between ridiculous and expertise.

Freed’s Styler is confident, cocky, and skeptical at first, then increasingly unsettled by the surroundings and peculiar behaviors. His instincts are finely tuned as his moods change.

The play is elaborate in how it threads the needle from point A to point B – and that can get a little tedious as dynamics flip. However, the actors hold our attention and bring out the best in each other as scene partners, and Robert Ashton ups the ante with his adroit direction.

In British slang, the mystery’s a corker, and Ashton, a nimble theater veteran with a flair for crisp and purposeful staging, masterfully controls the suspense.

To give more away would be to spoil the plot, and the fun part of being in the audience is the discovery. Because you know something’s not quite right, and deceit and delusions are there for the deducing.

It’s a credit to all involved that they never tip us off, stay in the moment and do not anticipate what’s ahead, making us fascinated by what’s unfolding.

The technical sight and sound work are also sharp, with Erik Kuhn the tech director and set designer, and an expert fight choreographer. Eric Wennlund’s lighting design is both functional and artful while Jacob Baxley’s sound design adds layers of fright. Stage Manager and Assistant Director Gwynneth Rausch keeps the danse macabre taut.

It’s only Albion’s fourth show, and they have impressed with their well-staged productions featuring strong performances and outstanding production values. Founded in 2022 to explore the rich history of playwrighting in Britain, with regular trips across the sea to Ireland, they not only entertainan audience, but strive to inform them of the social, political, and cultural influences of the time. So far, they are nailing every facet of the archetypes of a good drama/comedy.

One thing is always a given – that the accents will be spot-on, and the trio’s work here is superb. Albion provides a word and phrases guide for us in their programs, too.

If you like hair raised and minds bent, this is a dandy way to spend 2 hours and 15 minutes.

Chuck Winning as Dr Farquhar. Photo by John Lamb.

Albion Theatre presents “Mindgame” by Anthony Horowitz from Oct. 20 to Nov. 5 at the Kranzberg Arts Center, 501 N. Grand in Grand Center. Performances are Friday and Saturday at 8 p.m. and Sunday at 2 p.m. For more information, visit www. albiontheatrestl.org.

First Run Theatre Presents ‘Locked Ward’ with Care and Concern

First Run Theatre Presents ‘Locked Ward’ with Care and Concern

By Lynn Venhaus

A strong ensemble cast acts naturally in an unnatural setting in “Locked Ward,” a world premiere mystery-drama by Chicago-based playwright Amy Crider.

Now in its 19th season specializing in producing new works, First Run Theatre effectively realizes Crider’s play, which was inspired by her own journey with bipolar disorder, with sensitivity and compassion.

Crider’s care and concern regarding her characters, which were based on people she met while hospitalized in 1993, is obvious. And director Phil Gill follows through by ensuring a human face has been placed on the internal and external conflicts.

Crider has been on effective medication since 1994, and has been almost entirely in remission ever since, she wrote in the program notes. Her large body of work includes the topic of mental illness, and reflects not only her personal experience, but her desire to educate and make people aware of disorders.

“Locked Ward” is first and foremost a passion project, and it succeeds on its earnestness. While it has humorous elements to lighten interaction, it is serious in its intentions. Do not think of this as “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” light.

As Crider does, Gill strives to address the stigma hanging over those living with mental illness. And that is an important aspect of this presentation. In his program notes, he said he hopes it “encourages you all as our audience to see through the labels and instead see the humans that exist” behind the diagnosis.

While it could be heavy-handed in conveying the playwright’s noble intentions, First Run does not lecture, but lets the actors believably develop their familiar characters. The cast makes sure we feel their connections while shading the disparate personalities in an identifiable way.

In life, Crider may crusade, but on the page, she doesn’t preach. She has incorporated information within the framework of a murder mystery, which is a surprising component.

The story takes place in 2003 in a psychiatric ward. When the body of a nurse is found on the floor in the ‘locked ward,’ patients become amateur sleuths, united in their shock and grief. That helps them bond, but also shows their limits as their own personal issues come to the forefront.

For instance, the sweet Eleanor, affectingly portrayed by Uche Ijei, has a manic episode while the group is preparing dinner. Her escalating paranoia puts others at risk when she wields a knife (used to cut vegetables) and must be put in restraints. They smoothly diffuse the situation.

Because the actors demonstrate skill in bringing their characters to life, we get to know them beyond their ‘types’ throughout the two acts.

Duncan Phillips is impressive as Franklin, the rigid obsessive-compulsive whose daily routine of “Star Trek” episodes and the evening news is disrupted when the floor’s television set is removed. You know that character. Smart, sincere, and awkward, Phillips grabs onto solving the mystery like a lifeboat.

In a heartfelt performance, Ethan Isaac is Glen, a troubled ex-cop dealing with post-traumatic stress syndrome, who must work through a tragedy. He also provides investigative know-how as the group ascertains how their floor nurse died.

Jalani “Tamia” Hale is sympathetic as Jill, whose memory is erased with her electric shock therapy. She is heartbreaking as she walks around in a zombie-like state sometimes and has grown an unrealistic attachment to the doctor treating her.

As Vladimir, a rebel-rousing dissident who doesn’t play by the rules, Stephen Thompson maintains a convincing Russian accent. An intelligent guy that sometimes condescends, Vlad’s hostility softens as he works together with the group on a common cause.

Treating these patients is Dr. Blumenthal, and Jaz Tucker keeps us guessing about this guy – is he trustworthy or is he hiding secrets? He does a good job giving the benevolent doctor some layers.

Because of COVID-19, Lillie Weber could not play the health care professional Linda, who takes over from the ‘victim’ the patients were attached to. But stage manager Gwynneth Rausch capably filled in. Because they must adjust anyway to an ‘outsider,’ her insertion worked well as a latecomer, not missing a beat. She also provided some context to the deceased nurse’s private life.

Scenic designer Brad Slavik’s use of weathered second-hand furniture and distinct institutional props fitting such a locale’s layout adds to the production’s lived-in quality. Tony Anselmo’s lighting design enhances the moods and the characters’ emotional states, and technical director Jenn Ciavarella’s sound design is efficient and fluid.

The play is well-staged in the Kranzberg black box theatre so that each character has their moment to shine.

Without simple solutions, the play zigs when you think it will zag, so you are kept somewhat off-guard, avoiding predictability.

While the conclusion seems anticlimactic, and the path towards the resolution gets a little clunky in its exposition, the ensemble’s likability smooths the rough edges.

Overall, the actors’ grow as they share their stories, bridging some of the hurdles perceived in mental health.

Crider does not offer quick fixes, and it would be irresponsible to do so anyway. Because of the way the character’s progress, in the end, the message lands on how much more insight we need on mental illness.

Through First Run, this fiction can be a starting point to learn more.

The St. Louis chapter of the National Alliance on Mental Illness, which serves St. Louis city and county plus the counties of St. Charles, Lincoln, Warren and Jefferson, has provided the company with resources that they have placed in the lobby of the Kranzberg Arts Center. NAMI is an organization of families, friends and individuals whose lives have been affected by mental illness

Crider has also written a mystery novel about her experience with mental illness, “Disorder,” which is available from bookstores, Kindle, and audio.

Crider wrote the play, “Charlie Johnson Reads All of Proust,” that the Midnight Company presented here in May 2019.

You can follow her career, including winning the Tennessee Williams One Act Play contest, on www.amycrider.com.

Jaz Tucker, Ethan Isaac

First Run Theatre presents “Locked Ward” Aug. 12-14 and 19-21 at the Kranzberg Black Box Theatre, 501 N. Grand Blvd., St. Louis. For tickets and information, visit www.firstruntheatre.org.