Playwright: Tennessee Williams
At: The Hypocrites at Building Stage, 412 N. Carpenter
Phone: 312-409-5578; $20 ( $10 Thursdays )
Runs through: Feb. 4
By Jonathan Abarbanel
The reference is brief and veiled—as homosexual references usually are in Tennessee Williams' best plays—but Big Daddy says he inherited his vast Mississippi plantation from the two men who founded it, and that he has seen and done things some people might not consider proper. Big Daddy urges tolerance—his actual word—on his alcoholic son, Brick, who is closeted or homophobic or both. Big Daddy may be volcanic and controlling, but he has a vigorously earthy acceptance of sexuality in various permutations. Of course, Big Daddy is dying of bowel cancer, which recurs repeatedly in Williams' writing as the fate of sodomites. This production of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof doesn't make more of Big Daddy's suggestive but passing remarks than other productions but they are there, nonetheless, for those with sharp ears.
What director Sean Graney does deliver is opera. He's broken down the three acts into set pieces separated by radical, momentary lighting changes ( courtesy of lighting designer Jared Moore ) . There are spoken-word equivalents of solo arias ( mostly ) , duets and occasional choral scenes verging on hysteria, all pushed to their emotional limits. A fast production ( even at three hours, including two intermissions ) , it begins in such high gear that there's almost nowhere to go. By Act Three, it's over the top. When Brick—isolated by a lighting change—softly says 'Storm comin' up,' the audience laughs because the
emotional hurricane already rages. As if to emphasize the opera idea, original music ( mostly jazzy piano by Kevin O'Donnell ) provides film-like underscoring for many scenes, but occasionally seems out of place.
All this is eccentric rather than bad. Painting the play in bold primary color blocks ( even down to Alison Siple's all-white, hot-pink and all-black costumes ) eliminates subtlety but, by golly, it gives it drive and energy. Usually, Williams' work has a high degree of sensuality flowing from his sexual undertones and lyrical language, but that's gone. Graney and The Hypocrites go for hot rather than steamy, and use Williams' barrage of words as hammer blows rather than as imagery. For the first time, the play struck me as overwritten and repetitive, although unquestionably still potent.
The show is blessed with two compelling performances by Kate Harris as Big Momma—her put-upon body language is exquisite—and Jennifer Grace as Maggie the Cat, Brick's firecracker wife. Grace projects both Maggie the lover/whore and Maggie the smart alley cat with ease and strength. John Byrnes makes Brick smaller than other actors in the role. This isn't a complaint; Brick IS small and spends the play trying to disappear. Rob Skrocki as Big Daddy was somewhat unsure on opening night, but has a great look and the physical stature for the role.
Staged in the round, scenic designer Geoff Curley's chief devices are hanging naked light bulbs and kudzu, as well as well-selected 1950s furniture.
