Shaw Assures Success: STC’s Production of Mrs Warren’s Profession

In 1893 Mrs Warren’s Profession was unable to attain a license for performance and was to remain unperformed for the next twenty years. So scandalous was its subject matter. By today’s standards it is pretty tame, and you almost wish they’d just say the word ‘prostitute’. Nevertheless, Sydney Theatre Company’s production of the Shavian classic still has impact.

Kitty Warren is a woman with an infamous past and a daughter, Vivian, whose linage is sketchy to say the least. Kitty keeps her ignorant however, with an expensive education and a comfortable lifestyle – although the pair a virtual strangers to each other. Upon their reunion it isn’t long before the truth comes out, sparking conflict as they differ over the other’s lifestyle choice. As such, the relationship and indeed their identities are called into question.

Helen Thomson as Mrs Warren

The crux of the play lies here. In her note, director Sarah Giles states that the play is essentially about the feminist question (obviously). For a Victorian audience this may have been true, but for today’s audience, the play is about something a little different. By and large it comes down to a question of duty and principle. Mother and daughter respectively sacrifice one for the other – it is a question of how far one is willing to tip the scale. Ultimately, Vivian and Kitty are both right and wrong in their conclusions, and the genius of Shaw allows you to see the world from both perspectives. It is a tossup as to whose side you’ll come down on. Audiences will undoubtedly disagree as to whose, but that’s what makes it so true to life. Perhaps Giles needed to unpack the text a little more to get to this universal reading rather than falling back on the safety of feminism. Having said that, the young director made a deft job of bringing the cast together as an ensemble.

Lizzie Schebesta as Vivian Warren and Helen Thomson as Mrs Warren

To begin with, Helen Thomson is a very powerful performer. She commanded the stage and committed every inch to the role of Mrs Warren. There is little to criticise except for the decision to drop the ‘posh’ accent when in scenes alone with Vivian. By consciously reverting to the character’s original cockney roots for lengthy periods, she loses the credibility that is otherwise afforded by her performance. Yet director Giles should be criticised here too, as it is just as much a directorial failing (though it is called for in the script, some discretion as to the extent of its use should have been exercised). During these scenes Thomson also drops her middle class mannerisms, (wrongly) to enhance the ‘from nothing’ aspect of her character – it is only slightly more forgivable. For all this however, Thomson delivers the cheeky, sly, calculating mother well, and is especially powerful in her final speech.

Lizzie Schebesta as Vivian Warren and Martin Jacobs as Sir George Crofts

Lizzie Schebesta (Vivian Warren) looked every bit the Austin heroine. Overall, Schebesta made a good fist of the role. Yet the character required a sharper energy, rather than one that was simply ‘oppositional’. The young Miss Warren was also physically restrictive, doing little more than pacing when flustered or emotional. For the two faults mentioned, she just fell short of making us believe that she unreservedly rejected love.

Simon Burke played Praed – the attractive middle-aged friend of Mrs Warren. In this role, Burke was cute and light. He fluttered around the stage and played the audience well, almost too well in sections, though he mostly got away with it. Burke is obviously experienced with ensemble work. He sat well within the frame of his character and produced a lovely performance.

Simon Burke as Praed

Martin Jacobs was superb as Sir George Croft; he is a very impressive performer. Beautiful stage skill (always audible) and impeccable presence – he makes it look seamless. Like Burke, probably more so, his experience allows for a remarkably controlled performance. Beautifully observed, Jacobs understands that people only really ‘get angry’ about personal convictions – as such he delivers the cope de grace perfectly – as measured and controlled as the rest of his performance.

The young Frank Gardner was played by Eamon Farren, and he packs a real punch. Farren has a wonderful energy which should have been matched by his co-star, though perhaps it was more a question of conviction – for he had this as well. Also to Farren’s credit was his freedom of movement – he allowed himself to physically explore the character, making for some very creative stage craft.

Eamon Farren as Frank Gardner and
Drew Forsythe as Samuel Gardner

Drew Forsythe was highly competent in the role of Samuel Gardner – in suffering the disadvantage of an obvious plot device; he was a joy to watch and worked with what he had – though occasionally forgoing the truth of the character in order to achieve a gimmick. Luckily it worked.

Giles has offered the Sydney theatre scene yet another minimalist production. Granted, it does work, but one hopes there is something different coming in the pipeline for audiences. Having said that, the music composed by Max Lyandvert perfectly suited the play and the backdrop of silk roses (a nod to Victorian excess and sentimentality without miring the action) were visually stunning and seemed to shift and alter in appearance with the assistance of Nigel Levings’ lighting design. Costumes were period but striped of ostentation.

Set Design

In the end this is a very fine production, but in all probability, it was always going to be. Is the STC capable of something with more punch or edge? We’d like to think so and we’d like to see them try. Shaw and Giles do however deliver the goods on what is to be congratulated as a solid production.

Mrs Warren’s Profession runs from 19 February – 6 April, with an extended season from 4 July – 20 July. For more information:
http://www.sydneytheatre.com.au/what’s-on/productions/2013/mrs-warrens-profession.aspx

Cat on a Luke Warm Roof: A Belvoir Production

Tennessee Williams’ Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1955) is just one of those classic plays of the twentieth century. This frequently revived tale tells the story of cotton baron, Big Daddy Pollitt, a man dying of cancer, and his dysfunctional family. In brief, his son, Brick Pollitt, is married to Maggie the Cat. However, since the death of his close friend Skipper, Brick has taken to drinking and his relationship with Maggie has slipped into a sexual limbo. Meanwhile, Brick’s brother Gooper and his wife Mae are working to ensure that Big Daddy’s estate is left to them (and to their five ‘no necked monsters’). Yet, here the conflict begins: Maggie is also determined to remain a benefactor.

Director Simon Stone has done a decent job with his material, though it is far from a phenomenal one. Discussion has circulated regarding his choice to abandon the traditional Southern accent. Williams’ was a Southerner; he knew how the language worked and he knew how to make it sing. So one must ask: is some of that lyricism lost with an Australian accent? The answer is yes. But is it a huge drawback? No, not really. Nevertheless, one does wonder why the choice was made in the first place. Stone claims it is to make the play more ‘universally’ specific to an Australian audience. Yet, if you’re going to leave in all the Southern references is there really much point? Additionally,  universality is not something one has to struggle to find here. Unaltered, the play speaks to the darker motives in all of us: lust, avarice, mendacity. Being an Australian is neither here nor there.

Jacqueline McKenzie as Maggie and Ewen Leslie as Brick

In reality, a large part of what was missing came down to performance. Jacqueline McKenzie as Maggie was a touch disappointing. For a role ‘dripping in sex,’ she miscues the nuances and measured pace required for Maggie’s set of monologues. Instead, McKenzie relied on gimmick and speedy delivery – a choice which far from satisfies. To clarify, McKenzie wasn’t awful, not at all. She just made the character far too whimsical and overlooked the crucial part of Maggie’s personality: a deep-seated insecurity.

Ewen Leslie’s Brick was puzzling. He had a fantastic voice and was physically well suited to the role. However, he made a fatal error in juxtaposing dead pan (making for stilted dialogue) with explosive rage. Ultimately, Leslie suffered from McKenzie’s problem – his performance just wasn’t thoughtfully observed. Together they felt like a mismatch, in the wrong way.

Ewen Leslie as Brick

Yet Marshall Napier is to be congratulated as Big Daddy. Having stepped into the role not 3 days before the preview, Napier produces a fighting performance, despite being script in hand for sections of Act 2. When without script, Napier dove into the vulnerability of disease – exposing an old man’s regrets and a ‘young again’ man’s hopes.

Lynette Curran, playing Big Mama, similarly showed us the susceptibility and misplaced loyalty of a woman trapped by unreciprocated love. Big Mama’s is a broken marriage; the type our children vow never to have for themselves. It may be her aged wisdom, but Curran (and arguably Napier), understood the tragic dialogue better than most. Curran is outgoing, outrageous but ultimately lonely as Big Mama. When she is verbally abused by Big Daddy, Curran just sits, hunched over, absorbing the blows as her light fades to a well of silent tears. It is heartbreaking.

Marshall Napier as Big Daddy

Honourable mention goes to Rebecca Massey and Alan Dukes, (Mae and Gooper). Massey goes all the way with this cheap and nosey ‘baby machine’. Yet she produces a well observed clarity to Mae’s plea for the plantation in Act 3. Dukes also proves himself here. He is measured in his desperation, a choice which reveals an underlying integrity: he will not beg.

The real star of the show, however, was the set: a stroke of genius. Party streamers cut the stage in half to conceal the upstage area. A turntable allowed for set pieces to be added to the action seamlessly. It also makes for some powerful theatre: as Maggie pursues Brick, explaining her involvement with Skipper, Brick desperately tries to escape. But no matter how much ground they cover, on the turntable, they remain perfectly stationary. It is simply striking.

Lynette Curran as Big Mama

Of note too, is the climax of the second act. A distraught and bewildered Big Daddy, (finally confronted with the truth of his condition) tears down the streamers in a fit of anger. Symbolically perhaps the final act takes place on an entirely exposed stage; the truth is finally on the cusp after so many lies. With this in mind, one should see the show, if only because of the set. For its few faults the play still delivers, and even moves at times. Ultimately it is a very fine production which sadly fails to reach its full potential. But then again, when you’re working with Tennessee Williams, the bar is always going to be set very high.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is on at Belvoir Theatre until April 21, with tickets still available to the Theatre Royal performances starting April 10.

To book: https://tickets.belvoir.com.au/WEBPAGES/EntaWebShow/ShowDatesCombo.aspx 

or contact Theatre Royal: 1 300 723 038