Director Rebecca Frecknall is an expert in staging Tennessee Williams’ plays. While her acclaimed production of A Streetcar Named Desire, which also started in this Islington venue, is due back in the West End in February, this latest revival deserves similar success. Frecknall appreciates the tenor of each piece, marking this one by its force. There is a violence to the language, more tense than poetic, that is undoubtedly powerful.
There’s star casting… if that’s your thing. Kingsley Ben-Adir and Daisy Edgar-Jones take the roles of Brick and Maggie, whose failed marriage we watch. Ben-Adir is an excellent stage drunk (essential here) and gives a cleverly passive performance as the former sports star drinking himself into oblivion. Edgar-Jones makes her character bravely unsympathetic, taking care that we don’t feel sorry for Maggie. There’s a little too much shouting, especially considering Maggie’s paranoia about being overheard, and Edgar-Jones’ physicality isn’t quite convincing (might she be a little young for the role?), but she is suitably formidable and an engaging stage presence.
Maggie and Brick’s dilemma is a good deal simpler than some of the drama in Williams’ classics. The arguments are fraught and drag a little. The wider family dynamics, including the drama surrounding Brick’s father, are interesting but also repetitious. It is Lennie James’ superb performance as ‘Big Daddy’ that elevates the long act between father and son, while the complexity Clare Burt adds to her role as ‘Big Momma’ lights up her scenes. With both of these experienced performers, some of Williams’ humour is allowed through – tricky but welcome.
Frecknall focuses on Brick, who is barely off stage. His trauma around the death of his best friend Skipper provides the play’s emotional content and leads to a lot of talk about truth and lies. Ben-Adir gets credit for angst and is aided by an accompanying pianist with a suitably discordant score from Angus MacRae. Seb Carrington takes this additional, non-speaking part and, as the action progresses it becomes clear that he is a ghostly Skipper. Carrington is excellent, strangely ethereal and an unforgettable presence.
Probably like most of the audience, the production is in no doubt that Brick and Skipper’s relationship was romantic. Williams’ notes in the text itself are more elastic, and it might surprise that a 2023 production doesn’t lean into that ambiguity. But the result is certainly anguished. This is a tortured affair – and great drama. Coming soon to the Almeida is a Eugene O’Neill play, it will be exciting to see what Frecknall makes of another American great.
Until 1 February 2025
Photos by Marc Brenner
