REVIEW: A Streetcar Named Desire

A masterpiece of Southern Gothic at its best, Rude Mechanicals put on Tennessee Williams’s iconic play “A Streetcar Named Desire” and executed it with intensity and emotional fervor. Proper and aristocratic-at-heart Blanche DuBois, portrayed wonderfully by Juliana Tassos, travels to New Orleans to stay with her sister after she lost their family plantation, and her lighthearted yet grand arrival soon takes an ominous turn. Stella, played by the talented Stella Kowalski, welcomes her with open arms, yet it is clear that Blanche does not belong in this dilapidated apartment, nor in the life of Stanley, her husband. Jack Alberts executes this intense character with scary yet admirable fortitude, his sudden outbursts captivating our attention with a breathtaking startle. Though Stella and Stanley have an animalistic love and desire for each other, Stanley’s propensity toward violence drives a permanent wedge between him and Blanche while driving the play forward toward its imminent end. Blanche’s Southern mannerism and charms and denouncement of realism directly contrast Stanley’s aggression and manhood and pragmaticism, and this dance between their personalities and views of life lead to an inevitable clash between the two, with Stella caught trying to mediate it in the middle.

The physical and emotional abuse of Stella by Stanley, followed directly by their subsequent embrace, is mirrored by Eunice and Steve, portrayed by Jillian Lee Garner and Jackson Verolini, which shows this unfortunate commonality of brutal marriages within the Southern lifestyle. Though Stella occasionally tries to stand up to Stanley, his loud strength always overpowers her, and she always goes back to him when he calls for her. In the very end, Stella’s fearful and morose isolation in her bedroom and Eunice’s somber reflection on the doorstep while Stanley returns to the next room to play poker shows the distinct separation between the emotionally-scarred women of the play and the misogynistic yet dominant men.

Blanche’s doomed relationship with Mitch, played by Austin D’Ambrosio, reflects her inability to confront her past and face the light. As Blanche’s past is revealed, from her dead husband to her stay in hotels to her forbidden relationship with a student, she slowly withdraws into her fantasies. Stanley’s role in her hysterical breakdown is more than direct, revealing her past to others and furthermore, sexually assaulting her. Blanche’s gradual mental deterioration was painful to watch, yet there was a beauty in Tassos’s performance of it. Her thoughtful and regretful soliloquies throughout the play solidified her tenderness and her talent, even through the pain.

The Southern dialects of the characters, combined with the rapid speed of their delivery, sometimes made it tough to understand their words, but it captured the setting of the place and their frenzy. The lighting and scenery set the mood, as did the foreboding tones that often sounded in between scene transitions. Every character in this play is complex and hypocritical to an extent, and this cast did a phenomenal job bringing these flaws to life and making these characters seem human, however flawed. With Blanche’s unacceptable sexual behavior and Stanley’s abhorrent violence, these characters bring out the best of the Southern Gothic genre, and Tassos, Alberts, and Avnet excelled in putting on this phenomenal production.

PREVIEW: A Streetcar Named Desire

Rude Mechanicals is performing one of the greatest pieces of Southern Gothic literature and modern American theatre. “A Streetcar Named Desire” follows Blanche DuBois, a Southern belle coping with personal losses who goes to stay with her sister Stella in New Orleans. There, she witnesses the volatile relationship between Stella and her husband Stanley, and her involvement can only lead to pain. Tennessee Williams’ brilliant play is taking place in the Lydia Mendelssohn Theatre this weekend at 8 PM on April 5 and 6 and 2 PM on April 7. Tickets can be bought at MUTO in the League Underground, where a Passport to the Arts can be redeemed for a free ticket as well.

REVIEW: Let The Right One In

The concept of this story is oddly unique for a vampire narrative. Just in the last decade, we’ve endured an explosion of often awful, needlessly obnoxious tales of those immortal blood suckers. Of course, there’s the Twilight saga, which infested the hearts and minds of middle schoolers everywhere (and of which came an entire parody film aptly named Vampires Suck), but we must also remember other spoofy concoctions like Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter and What We Do In the Shadows. Thus, when presented with yet another vampire-related tale, it’s hard not to shudder before stepping forward to accept it.

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I think I know what it is that makes Let The Right One In different from the rest of the recent slew of trashy vampire stories: its innocence. The main characters Oskar and Eli are children (or at least, Eli looks like a child), which restricts the themes of lust present in every other depiction of vampires in popular culture. While there is action in Eli’s killing, these scenes are distorted by the fact of her childish appearance–she cannot be taken for a fearsome murderer when we see her as a little girl. The film industry, however, loves to draw heavily on action, relying on it while allowing the actual storyline to suffer.

The Rude Mechanicals put on a great production, despite a few flaws that served as mild distractions from the play. The lighting worked wonders on the mood of the set, a ghostly blue that made the trees glow eerily, and made the playground structure dully shine. Although the soundtrack sometimes seemed like a Stranger Things ripoff, the music was still beautifully emotional, and was able to enhance the feeling of a scene. There were a few minor issues with the timing of some sound effects, as well as parts where the music overpowers dialogue or is simply distracting next to the action of the characters.

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In terms of acting, I was impressed by most of the cast. Oskar (played by Chan Yu Hin Bryan) made a quite believable 12 year old, though he could easily switch on and off a more serious tone. The bullies (Ethan Haberfield and Nathan Correll) were deliciously evil, contorting their faces into bloodthirsty smirks as they tortured little Oskar, even managing to make their voices crack in true prepubescent form.

I was disappointed to find myself feeling something lacking in Eli’s (Emma Steiner) performance. In emotional scenes with her “father,” she was amazing; the stage lights seemed to give more light to her eyes than those of anyone else in the cast. Playing a character who is a 200 year old playing a 12 year old is no easy feat, I can imagine. I could see she was taking an understandable angle: Eli was stiffly attempting to act the same age as Oskar, but did not have the social intelligence to do so properly. This angle should have worked, but at some points it only sounded false and robotic. The same goes for Oskar’s mother (Juliana Tassos). She seemed to have some trouble with acting as a character decades her senior–she simply did not have experience to draw off of, and instead came off as a caricature of a stressed, aging alcoholic. Beyond this, though, she was quite skilled at knowing how to place herself on the set, from the positioning of her limbs on the couch to a somber lean on a tree, she did a good job of becoming a sad skeleton of a woman.

I would recommend that anyone looking to delve into the wonderful world of theatre attends an upcoming performance by the Rude Mechanicals. You can access their calendar of events at their website: umrudemechanicals.com.

REVIEW: The Importance of Being Ernest

Every single male role was played by a female, and the most imposing female role was played by a male. Such was Rude Mechanical’s original conception of “The Importance of Being Earnest,” Oscar Wilde’s classic play published in 1895.

The play is all about relationships. Algernon, played by Cailean Robinson, and Jack, played by Mason Van Gieson, discuss romance and courtship. Both men develop a facade as they pursue two different women, and they build up a tower of lies until it all comes crashing down at the end in perfectly absurd Wilde-like fashion.

Although the play was supposedly changed to have its setting in the 1950’s, I didn’t notice much of a difference from Wilde’s original conception. Perhaps I just don’t know enough about English social history. Either way, the decision to switch genders was brilliant.

I didn’t realize how well the play would go with women in the shoes of men. Every role was well-acted, from Algernon’s well-timed poses as he recited Wildean witticisms, to Lady Bracknell’s diva pose every time he/she entered the stage.

Also losing his/her pants
Also losing his/her pants

Some of the one-liners were especially ironic, given the change of gender, such as when Algernon tells Jack:

“My dear fellow, the truth isn’t quite the sort of thing one tells to a nice, sweet, refined girl. What extraordinary ideas you have about the way to behave to a woman!”

Or this rendition’s focus on the actors fondling their own and each others’ genitalia right in front of the audience (see above picture).

The set design was tasteful without being too imposing. Each act, from Algernon’s flat in London to the drawing-room of the Manor House in the country, had plenty of eye candy and props that the actors were free to interact with at will. There were some scenes where I couldn’t tell if the actions were rehearsed, or if they were entirely ad-libbed. My favorite example of this was in the Garden, where Cecily (in pink) grabs a flower pot and makes some raunchy gyrations with it.

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The only drawback of the play wasn’t because of the acting or directing, but due to Oscar Wilde himself. Say what you will about the man, but you have to admit that he likes his sensational plots. The first act goes out in all different directions, and the second act seems to tread out without telling the audience where its going. It isn’t until the very end of the third act that the play pulls itself together and makes sense of things.  Luckily, Rude Mechanicals made the journey worth it.

PREVIEW: The Importance of Being Ernest

Gather round connoisseurs of aesthetics, readers of 18th century plays, and lovers of Oscar Wilde.

Rude Mechanicals’ is putting on a version of The Importance of Being Ernest–set in the 1950’s–this weekend! See this link for specific showtimes and how to purchase tickets online.

Where: Mendelssohn Theater (Michigan League)

When: November 4 – 6 

Cost: $7 for students or FREE with a Passport to the Arts (yay!)

“Be yourself; everything else is already taken”

–Oscar Wilde

 

 

REVIEW: The Cherry Orchard

The Cherry Orchard was the last play written by 19th century writer Anton Chekhov. Chekhov, famous for his short stories on the day to day life of Russian’s upper middle class, is today considered to be an influential figure on short story form. His writing focuses on individual’s responses and behaviors to quotidian life in Russia, with an emphasis on how their views of reality change responses.

The Cherry Orchard revolves around one family in Russia returning to their estate in the country after a hiatus to Paris. The estate features an idyllic orchard, which is beautiful but holds tragic memories and not known for producing a crop that can turn a profit. There are many people living in the house now, the many daughters of the mistress of the estate, as well as servants, and suitors too. When the family returns to the estate, it is evident that the estate must be sold. Not only does the plot concern the selling of the estate, but the more relevant focus is on how each character responds to the debt and the necessary auctioning of the estate. The mother, or mistress of the estate, is the most shaken by the selling of the estate. Amongst all the characters, she is the most oblivious to the dilemma and the direness of the situation, and this causes all the other characters to constantly reflect back on the mother and her denial of the situation.

In the performance at the Lydia Mendelssohn Theater, put on by the cast of the Rude Mechanicals, a student acting organization, the text was realized more fully as the intimate lens into human character that Chekhov’s work seeks to create. The play begins in an abstract manner. While audience members still chat, the cast starts to enter stage one by one. After five minutes had past, maybe five or six characters had taken the stage, engaging with the set or with each other in silence. The audience had hushed now, and a low humming sound was playing from the stage. As the whole cast took the stage, each seemed to be trying to embody the personality of their character through different positions and in silence. I thought the approach of not officially having a curtain open was an interesting way to initiate the beginning of the play, but I was confused by what happened next. As all the members lined up at the front of the stage and stared motionless into the audience, suddenly the music cut and they all screamed in a sort of joyful shriek and proceeded to run about the stage. Some people took apart some of the set, running around with it. Others leaped in the air, shouted, overall making the stage into a questionable space. It made me think about whether this was to be part of the play, and what the purpose of the initial solemn introduction was.

Eventually the cast quieted down and resumed their characters. It was a distinct transition and made the beginning of the play that more striking. No one had said anything yet, the characters will still anonymous, and yet the audience had been shocked and silenced into paying attention. If there is any critique to be made of the way this play started, it would be that the personalities of the many different characters are hard to really make distinct in a way that makes the contrast with the loss of in-character acting not as successful to the audience.

As there were many characters, each was introduced through scenes with only a few of the characters present. The pay did a good job of contextualizing the characters and their identities from the start. Scenes felt like they spent a lot of time in one moment, almost as if trying to mimic real time. A conversation would take place in what appeared to be a living room and it felt like so much was said, and each of the characters on their own had so much to say, that the scene was to last the length of a five hour long fire-side chat, though this was not actually the case. This is the same feeling felt while reading Chekhov’s work. He details conversations with so much information and naturalness of character that scenes feel very much like a conversation taking place in real life. Often times even going beyond what might be expected in a normal conversation, the dialogue between characters expanding to make up for any lack of context an audience or reader might feel.

The play overall was an interesting experience for me personally. I had never read this play before, but I am familiar with Chekhov’s work. I found that actors taking on the roles of characters in a Chekhov play, and probably one of his novels as well, is a laborious task. Dialogues are lengthy and to keep engaged with the spoken word requires a lot of emotion. I left the play feeling glad to have finally gotten to see a Chekhov play.