Photo of the cast of TENN courtesy of First Run Theatre
First Run Theatre has a unique mission that separates them from other players in the local arts scene: they exclusively perform never-before-seen works written by Midwestern playwrights. Their latest offering, TENN, was written by Aaron Scully, an associate professor of theater at the University of Central Missouri. Scully focuses on a make-or-break moment for one of America’s most famous playwrights, Tennessee Williams: the Broadway premiere of The Glass Menagerie.
In a fitting stylistic choice, TENN functions as a memory play about a memory play. It opens with a soliloquy by Williams—played here by Matt Newlin—who explains that his memories do not arrive in chronological order, but are instead colored by the intensity of their emotion. Keeping with this perspective, the narrative unfolds out of sequence. It’s a mixture of events that both inspired and conspired against Williams’s celebrated semi-autobiographical work.
Williams’s personal history—including his repressed homosexuality, a strained relationship with his mother, resentment toward his absent father, and deep sorrow for his sister— inspired many of his greatest works. His blend of realism, romance, and fantasy—often taken to their most gothic extremes—produced some of the most iconic scenes in American theater and cinema. In the late 1930s, however, Williams was hardly a cultural icon. His sophisticated mix of poetry and prose had yet to find its audience; furthermore, his tales of madness, mutilation, and unfulfilled desire stood in stark contrast to the optimistic, feel-good entertainment favored by a war-weary public. The disappointing debut of Williams’s first staged play, Battle of Angels, was an ominous sign for an author who already struggled with self-doubt.
TENN starts with a spat between Williams and Donald Windham (Kyle Reeves), his partner in writing (and sometimes romance). The two bicker over their current project, a comic adaptation of a D.H. Lawrence story. The project just can’t hold Williams’s attention. He’d rather follow his own muse, which may require stops at antique shops—Williams insists on buying props for his ever-mounting pile of unproduced passion projects. It’s clear to Windham that Williams will never be content adapting other people’s work. Williams has an “unbearable itch in his fingers” that can only be soothed by painstaking typing (and occasional drags from a cigarette).
Williams receives unflagging support from Eddie Dowling (Kevin Bailey), a director who also insists on playing the role of Tom in the first production of The Glass Menagerie. Meanwhile, his agent Audrey Wood (Kelly Rao) provides much-needed structure to the dreamy, wistful playwright. Together, they encourage him to take a chance on the once-great actress Laurette Taylor (Dorothy LaBounty), who seems the perfect choice for the role of Amanda Wingfield. Unfortunately, her particular style of method acting involves round-the-clock martinis and frequent “naps” (better described as “blackouts”). There’s also the temperamental, penny-pinching producer Louis Singer (Charles Huevelman), ready to cut his losses at the first sign of trouble. Throughout the story, the production teeters on total collapse like a roughly handled glass figurine. The Glass Menagerie—like many works of art that now seem to have arrived fully formed—was far from a sure thing.
As the simultaneously gifted and tortured playwright, Newlin is the anchor of the show. He captures Williams’s erudite Southern charm, reflecting on his formative experiences with a world-weary wisdom. Williams is by far the most dynamic character in the script; most of the supporting players are defined primarily by their relationship to him and feel a bit underdeveloped by comparison. Bailey plays Dowling with deep sincerity, presenting a true believer willing to make tremendous personal sacrifices to help Williams succeed. He insists on playing the role of Tom, who serves as an effective stand-in for Williams himself. However, the script doesn’t explain what exactly drew Dowling to the project or why he relates to Williams on such a personal level. Despite this, the ensemble effectively creates an active world around the author, successfully challenging the cliché of the misunderstood genius who succeeds only by his own merits.
The notable exception to this trend is Laurette Taylor, who is invested with heart and dignity by LaBounty. She initially balks at Williams’s overstuffed prose and struggles to find herself in Amanda, a stand-in for Williams’s own mother. Eventually, she develops a matriarchal affection for the playwright, noting that no writer has ever given an actor better material to work with. Their relationship is fraught, however, and her alcoholism threatens to sink the show minutes before curtain call, giving TENN real narrative stakes and a sense of urgency. It elevates the script from a mere tribute act into an exercise in brutal self-examination and liberation that Williams himself would find thrilling.
The set design is straight out of Williams’s own world, complete with that all-important fire escape. The stage features an antique lamp, a divan for Laurette’s alcohol-induced siestas, and a mysterious framed photo (fans of The Glass Menagerie will understand its significance). There’s also a collection of figurines which must be broken every night—another source of aggravation for the frugal Singer. Most striking are the beautiful painted scenic partitions. One features a crystalline unicorn and a rose, a testament to Williams’s incredible gift for symbolism. The cast is outfitted in appropriate WWII-era attire, with the men in sports jackets, shirts, and suspenders, and Laurette favoring a floral print kimono. Between scene changes, sentimental songs play as if emanating from a scratchy old phonograph, completing the atmosphere.
Like all of First Run Theatre’s main stage productions, TENN is staged at the Kranzberg Black Box Theater, located on Grand Boulevard on the same block as The Fox Theatre. Tickets are general admission and start at $30. The production serves as a highly effective lead-in to next month’s Tennessee Williams Festival, and it is easy to imagine it becoming a staple of the festival circuit in the not-too-distant future. Watching the improbable and chaotic genesis of this classic, one can’t help but wonder about the making of A Streetcar Named Desire—surely there’s a story there. | Rob Von Nordheim
For more on First Run Theatre or to purchase tickets, visit firstruntheatre.org.
