Survival is a powerful motivator for the human species. When it comes to survival, there are different skill sets that have traditionally come into play for both genders. While men have long been expected to assume the role of family provider, for women of a certain era in this country, the ability to charm suitors of the opposite sex was a skill vital not only for social standing, but to their very well being as well.
Currently running at the John Drew Theater at Guild Hall is Tennessee Williams “The Glass Menagerie,” a play that delves into the notion of security and desire in the face of dire poverty. Not all plays hold up more than half a century after their debut, but this production, directed by Harris Yulin, does. “The Glass Menagerie” is a play that still poses the power to move, even in this era of post-feminist ideals. The production also marks the reopening of the John Drew Theater after an extensive renovation and is a notable production that bodes well for things to come at Guild Hall.
Set in 1930s, “The Glass Menagerie” tells the story of an over-bearing mother, Amanda Wingfield (Amy Irving), a former society girl who lives with her grown children, Tom (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) and Laura (Louisa Krause), in a shabby apartment in St. Louis.
When the curtain rises, Amanda’s husband is long gone and Tom has become the sole breadwinner for the family. His salary is marginal, however, and Amanda supplements the family income by selling the occasional magazine subscription to fellow DAR members by phone. Meanwhile, the physically handicapped and socially introverted Laura is utterly hopeless and without prospect. She has failed at business college after just one day, is painfully shy and motivated only by her phonographs and her collection of little glass animals.
Though she means well, Amanda is smothering her son and furthering her daughter’s despair. Amanda exists in the past and the pathetic stories of her glamorous life as a beautiful and desirable young debutante do nothing to instill confidence in the inept Laura.
Tom is looking to escape. His overbearing mother and needy sister are stifling his creative urges and his dreams of adventure. To avoid the claustrophobia of his home life, Tom spends his nights at the movies enjoying bawdy stage acts and drinking heavily. When Amanda learns of Tom’s desire to leave St. Louis for the merchant marines, she makes it clear that he must first ensure Laura’s financial security by bringing home a “gentleman caller” with the sole purpose of marrying her off. Not an easy task given what he’s working with.
In desperation, Tom invites Jim (John Behlmann), the only co-worker with whom he is marginally friendly, over for dinner. In turns out that Jim was a golden boy in high school and the secret crush of Laura, whom he called Blue Roses in school, having misunderstood her explanation of a long absence due to a bout of pleurosis. Jim’s now studying public speaking in an effort to further his career and accepts Tom’s invitation for dinner, though he has not been apprised of the existence of Laura and has no clue he is playing the role of gentleman caller.
The dinner scene that follows is both poignant and heartbreaking, with an overdressed Amanda touting the virtues of her daughter, who spends the first part of the evening hiding in the kitchen. In truth, it’s Amanda who’s doing the courting, reliving her golden years. The aging beauty flirts and twirls for a man young enough to be her son while her daughter cowers in fear. Eventually, Laura and Jim do connect, but in a way that is fleeting and shallow. For Laura, much is shattered by the time Jim leaves, both figuratively and literally.
This is moving and memorable production and Yulin has done his job well. Irving gives a convincing performance as the caring, but overbearing mother who never quite comes to terms with her own failings. Moss-Bachrach is a terrific actor and his Tom is a powerful presence, perhaps at times too powerful, given his inability to truly stand up to his mother in any sort of meaningful way. The difficulty in mounting this play is the portrayal of the internal — so much is left unsaid and we are left wanting more tenderness and a deeper connection between Tom and Laura, a sister he truly loves and whom he knows is a lost cause. As Laura, Krause has perhaps the most complex role in the play. Her often silent presence speaks loudly of the failings and fears of the entire Wingfield family. While her obvious infirmities, which include a pronounced limp and painful shyness, do garner our sympathy, we are left wanting something a bit more — a private moment inside her psyche perhaps, or a revealing glimpse of her internal musings.
As the catalyst, Behlmann’s Jim is effective and illuminating. He represents the Wingfield’s last chance, and is a tragic choice given the hopeful cues he exudes before dashing an entire family’s dreams.
Designer Beowolf Boritt has hit one out of the park with his evocative 1930s set. We can feel the oppression of the neighboring buildings and brief glimpses of the sky beyond. There’s something lyrically haunting about this urban setting that is also eerily familiar. With a lively dance hall just across the alley, the joy of couples meeting up for a night out on the town are in stark contrast to the lack of prospects within the Wingfield household. Though the fortunes of women today are, for the most part, not so closely aligned to the men who chose to support them, the desperation which “The Glass Menagerie” evokes is palpable and real — even today. That’s the staying power of Williams.
“The Glass Menagerie” runs through July 26 at the John Drew Theater at Guild Hall, 158 Main Street, East Hampton. Shows are Wednesday through Sunday at 8 p.m. Tickets are $48 to $65. To reserve, call the box office at 324-4050.
Above: Louisa Krause (left, as Laura) and Amy Irving (Amanda). Gary Mamay photo
