His personal writing (and contextual clues) shows that Tennessee Williams was being traded: a super-masculine man who is as likely to have sex with a man as he breaks his neck. These fascinating barbarians are scattered throughout his work, as essential and memorable as his faded bells. There would be no Blanche without Stanley.
Williams will probably love the bricks of Matt Delogatis in the production of the loose stage of the recently opened “Hot Galvanized Iron Cat” at the Theater of St. Clements. The ex-soccer hero is still a melancholy alcoholic, and his drunken escape gives him a rise in cast, crutches, and his wife Maggie’s contempt. However, dressed up from the entrance of a backlit shower, De Rogatis convincingly found the violence and identity crisis at the heart of Brick in this contemporary staging.
The character is primarily a punching bag for his warlike Big Daddy Polit (Christian Jules LeBlanc) and talkative Maggie (Sonoya Mizuno) to explode, and he is often a handsome blank slate. De Rogatis, also produced, convincingly hinted at a terrifying inner life and settled on a majestic physique, but suffered from an ambiguous intimate relationship with a male friend who died of suicide. I was betrayed.
The performance, like many of Williams’ works, matches plays that are as surface-related as the character’s deeper world. A fine-tuned melody llama about the wealthy Mississippi family, canceled by the patriarch’s cancer diagnosis, melts the character’s preserved appearance and often referred to as “mender city” as they scramble for his inheritance. increase.
This work, the first off-Broadway staging of a play approved by Williams Estate, has some excellent surfaces, although not all elements come up on the occasion. For example, the director of Jorosario manages the soap opera-style acting well, but doesn’t land much of Williams’ evil humor. His character often appears purposeless and airless when it needs to be sharply animated.
Maggie’s personality is most buckled under this misfire. In particular, in her solitude for nearly an hour of her first act, she breathlessly complained about the children of her sneaky sister-in-law, May (Tiffin Borrelli), and then she she Lament that you don’t have your own children. The speculation it brings. Mizuno is a game, but there is no clear focus on this important scene. She’s not a definitive, captivating, confident cat immortalized on the screen by Elizabeth Taylor (certainly a horizontal bar), but an enthusiastic kitten rattling into a cage. Interestingly, this transforms her legendary sensuality into a credible portrait of an Ole Miss graduate whose hard-earned financial security has begun to collapse.
Similarly, this piece can make the bourbon-soaked setting feel like the real South, rather than the flashy memories of the South. Matthew Imhoff’s set is just the gorgeous golden way fair that the modern Polit family will capture, and Zandra Smith’s costumes are exceptionally observed. May’s modern Christian girl uniforms — sleeveless tops, colorful trousers, and wise heels — are especially inspirational.
Borrelli devotes himself to the fun of her recognizable outfit (and tight bread hair), tasting Williams’ thorns and enhancing his melodramatic talent. She is now matched as a big mama by Allison Fraser and is in perfect harmony with the sound balance of her work. Her large, fragile eyes, painted smile, and perfect blonde hair perfectly convey everything she loves about the playwright and his addiction to deceived appearance.
This “cat” evokes most of its charm and gives and takes some fizzles. For those looking to cool off on these scorching summer days with the Tennessee Williams Classic, it’s a solid deal.
Hot tin roof cat
Until August 14th at the Theater of St. Clements in Manhattan. ruthstage.org.. Execution time: 2 hours and 45 minutes.
