A Glass Menagerie

As directed by David Leveaux this revival of A GLASS MENAGERIE, that delicate flower of a play, withers in the bud. How is it that Jessica Lang, a rich and commanding actress, has taken such a shrill note to Amanda? It’s too a harsh a portrayal of this character who is living in her illusions about Southern elegance and charm. Of course it’s illusion that drives Tennessee Williams’ poetic story about the Wingfield family, their need to escape the reality of human desperation.

As told, the story is Tom’s memory play and his poetic expression is about loss. One would wish, however, to find that in Christian Slater, but his portrayal is too aggressive, delivering monologues with the finesse of a stand up routine rather than surrendering to his inner thought.

As his sister, Laura, aptly nick named "blue roses", because she’s not like any other, Sarah Paulson demonstrates the character’s fragility, but like the other actors she misses the authenticity of a certain inner life. As a result the relationships here seem forced. In fact, the overt physicality of it all is not well suited to the play’s style of romantic lyricism. This is most obvious when Laura, Tom’s younger sister lies on top of him in bed. Regardless of the implication of incest, pertinent or not, it demonstrates physicality rather than emotional truth. And in MENAGERIE the physical world, especially for Laura, is just a metaphor. She is and always will be a cripple of sorts.

If anything the reality of it all, the screaming and the shouting, make the family situation all too clear. Memory, on the other hand, is often out of focus. So, in the final act when all is truly dismantled, when the gentleman caller played here by Josh Lucas finally arrives thoughtlessly shattering their illusions, our sadness feels fabricated. MENAGERIE is Williams most lyrical play. Wish it had been played that way.

That’s This Week on Broadway. I’m Isa Goldberg.