#1
Posted: 10/14/03 at 11:06am
Yes...I know...it just started previews. I knew that going into the theatre on Friday night. But one expects the fundamentals of a very familiar piece of theatre to be in place. Like the heat. It's the south...it's hot. Even if the actors flubbed every other line, if they make you feel the heat in that bedroom on the Ochello/Straw plantation, then they've done part of their job. But no. It was a rather chilly evening down in the delta. And that was the first of many problems.
Does anyone want to see a production of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof where you can't slam the bedroom door? I've seen sturdier doors and door frames on high school sets. When Big Daddy has to be genteel when kicking Big Mama out of the room so as not to literally knock the door off its hinges, you know you need to drop a few more bucks on the set.
When one goes to light Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, would one naturally choose as many of the 'coolest' colors possible, without even attempting to suggest the haze and humidity that precedes a southern thunderstorm?
When you have the incredible body of Ms. Ashley Judd as your mannequin, do you put her in ill-fitting clothes? Or in uncomplimentary colors that do nothing for her skin tone?
One must wonder why a director would instruct Jason Patric to get more and more lethargic during the course of the evening, although the script keeps telling us that Brick is restless? Why would the character become so drunk as to slur nearly every word in his big Act II speech, even though he hasn't heard the 'click' yet?
Ned Beatty is quite a good actor. But Mr. Beatty has made a career of playing lovable losers. There is something inherent in him that inspires our compassion and, at times, our pity. Apart from a slizable belly, there is nothing 'big' about this Big Daddy. Would I kill to see Mr. Beatty's Shelly Levene in Glengarry Glen Ross? Absolutely. But his performance here left me undernourished.
And then there's Ms. Judd, a strikingly beautiful woman. However, she is surprisingly missing any semblance of sex appeal. Her Maggie is neurotic, a flittering bird batting its wings against the cage that traps it. But she is not a cat...and the temperature she needs to bring to this production is shockingly low.
I'm all for a new interpretation of a classic. But one must respect and follow the sign posts laid out for you by the playwright. To go against what Mr. Williams has gloriously laid out is foolish.
In the end, after being disappointed with this production for a good two hours, I closed my eyes and concentrated on the beautiful language Mr. Williams created so many years ago. Cold comfort for a cold production.
Does anyone want to see a production of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof where you can't slam the bedroom door? I've seen sturdier doors and door frames on high school sets. When Big Daddy has to be genteel when kicking Big Mama out of the room so as not to literally knock the door off its hinges, you know you need to drop a few more bucks on the set.
When one goes to light Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, would one naturally choose as many of the 'coolest' colors possible, without even attempting to suggest the haze and humidity that precedes a southern thunderstorm?
When you have the incredible body of Ms. Ashley Judd as your mannequin, do you put her in ill-fitting clothes? Or in uncomplimentary colors that do nothing for her skin tone?
One must wonder why a director would instruct Jason Patric to get more and more lethargic during the course of the evening, although the script keeps telling us that Brick is restless? Why would the character become so drunk as to slur nearly every word in his big Act II speech, even though he hasn't heard the 'click' yet?
Ned Beatty is quite a good actor. But Mr. Beatty has made a career of playing lovable losers. There is something inherent in him that inspires our compassion and, at times, our pity. Apart from a slizable belly, there is nothing 'big' about this Big Daddy. Would I kill to see Mr. Beatty's Shelly Levene in Glengarry Glen Ross? Absolutely. But his performance here left me undernourished.
And then there's Ms. Judd, a strikingly beautiful woman. However, she is surprisingly missing any semblance of sex appeal. Her Maggie is neurotic, a flittering bird batting its wings against the cage that traps it. But she is not a cat...and the temperature she needs to bring to this production is shockingly low.
I'm all for a new interpretation of a classic. But one must respect and follow the sign posts laid out for you by the playwright. To go against what Mr. Williams has gloriously laid out is foolish.
In the end, after being disappointed with this production for a good two hours, I closed my eyes and concentrated on the beautiful language Mr. Williams created so many years ago. Cold comfort for a cold production.
"I'm so looking forward to a time when all the Reagan Democrats are dead."
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