BWW Reviews: Williams' HOUSE Stands Sturdy at the Fountain

A House Not Meant to Stand
by Tennessee Williams
directed by Simon Levy
Fountain Theatre
through April 17

Insatiable avarice is at the core of Tennessee Williams last play (1980-82) A House Not Meant to Stand, now receiving its West coast premiere at the Fountain Theatre. Astutely directed by Simon Levy and performed by a brilliant ensemble, this House has the symbolism and lyricism expected of Williams with the addition of a few surprising features.

The play utilizes some interesting techniques, as Williams experiments with structure and content, such as a Southern gothic approach to the storytelling and a breaking of the fourth wall by various characters as they express their feelings directly to the audience. Inviting the audience in is a first for the playwright, who heretofore kept his people as if in a cage on display, drowning in their own sickness. We were invited to witness but not to partake. Including audience stretches the metaphor to universal proportions. And the inexplicable presence of certain characters like the two men dressed in funereal black who force their way into the house claiming to be police and then stand silently as if on guard creates a surreal, nightmarish almost creepy quality associated with oncoming death. This element, along with a leaky ceiling, half-lit dining room, sudden bizarre bursts of lightning, and the intermittent appearance of ghosts in a type of fading hologram moving about the walls are part of the Southern gothic manifestations intensified by the lunacy, rampant promiscuity and criminality of the inhabitants of the house. As Williams was himself strung out on drugs and dying at the time he wrote the play, this explains the involvement of his life and family in the characters' excessive behavior. And, of course, the house itself is the principal character that takes everyone within its walls along with it as it crumbles and falls.

The McCorkle clan, with the matriarch's family named the Dancies, are beguilingly brought to life by a stellar cast. Sandy Martin is affecting as the crazy mother Bella whose wild imaginings in search of life - shades of Blanche DuBois - and fits of desperation live on until her last breath. Equally thrilling is Alan Blumenfeld as Cornelius - shades of Big Daddy - the minor politician whose greed for his dying wife's family fortune takes possession of his very soul. Neither Martin or Blumenfeld hold anything back. Daniel Billet as son Charlie capitalizes on the loyalty to his mother which belies his slovenly attitude and personal work ethic, and Virginia Newcomb as Stacey is astounding as the prostitute turned evangelical savior of lost souls. Lisa Richards is riveting and sensuous as avaricious nymphomaniac Jessie Sykes and Robert Craighead equally dynamic as her despicably lascivious husband. Chip Bent and Kevin High as police, doctor and mysterious men do commendable work.

Jeff McLaughlin's decrepit set, whose personality grows on you like a tumor, Ken Booth's expert lighting and Peter Bayne's eerie sound design add significant touches.

As in many Williams plays, humor is a staple, and House's black comedy is one of its finest assets. There is nothing more heartbreaking or funny than watching various characters scramble desperately to pick up spilled meds or swill down a plethora of pills with beer. Tennessee Williams was an original whose poetic language and multi-layered imagery, both real and surreal, of the decaying South stand the test of time. Add A House Not Meant to Stand to his list of classic masterpieces.

 

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