Orpheus Descending at Loyola’s Marquette Theatre
Watching The Tennessee Williams Theatre Company of New Orleans’ recent production of Orpheus Descending at the Marquette Theatre on Loyola University’s campus, I couldn’t help wondering why it has never been turned into an opera.
Its poetic monologues could serve as arias, both lyrical and dramatic. Duets among the leads and ensemble numbers for the townspeople of its Mississippi Delta locale would seem to rise naturally from the dialog. I could imagine music that evokes Puccini’s Baron Scarpia for the cruel men and Verdi’s Leonora (of La forza del destino) for the lead, Lady Torrance, Italian by birth and stuck in a loveless marriage.
(Stop the presses, a little googling revealed that an opera version premiered in Chicago in 1994 and was revived in New York in 2006. Its score “inhabited a classic-modern European idiom, with strong echoes of Strauss, Berg and early Britten,” and it received mixed reviews both times. If only Verdi or Puccini had been able to take at stab at it…)
Such musings aside, Augustin J Correro’s production expertly balanced the gothic strains in Williams’ script with its humor, exaggerations with truthfulness; the result was a gripping fever dream of operatic proportions.
A tale about a young drifter with a guitar (Valentine Xavier, aka Val, the Orpheus of the title) who comes to a small town and unintentionally causes trouble, Orpheus deals with many of the themes that Williams often explored and, as one scene followed another, a portrait of a sickening, unfair world came together as the script built to a conclusion that may be over-the-top by anyone else’s standards except Williams’.
Nathan Archer’s cramped dry goods store set made it feel like it was the center of the universe, exerting a centripetal pull on the locals who have few other options for entertainment or distraction from their humdrum lives. Diane K. Baas’ lighting, while never inadvertently obscuring anything, kept the stage dimly lit as though this was a place where sunshine rarely entered. And Nick Shackleford’s haunting sound design added an ominous undercurrent to the production.
Desiree Burrell and Lalanya Gunn along with Lizzy Bruce and Mia Frost as meddling townswomen, besotted with Val yet disapproving of him, worked theatrical magic by walking the fine tightrope between comic caricature and all-too-real venom mixed with lust mixed with jealousy. I’ve come to expect such sharp performances from Burrell and Bruce; I look forward to seeing more of Gunn and Frost.
In the small but important role of Jabe Torrance, Lady’s cancer racked husband, James Howard Wright subsumed Jabe’s prejudice and hatred to make for a scary portrayal. Judy Lea Steele was touching as Vee, a painter of religious art who’s slowly going blind.
As Lady and Val, Leslie Claverie and Benjamin Dougherty both gave highly intelligent performances, well-attuned to the contours of the script (notwithstanding Claverie’s Italian accent that came and went).
It wasn’t until the show was over and I had a chance to think about it, however, that I realized what was missing. I preface this by noting that Claverie and Dougherty are two of this town’s most talented thespians. Claverie’s performances in Anything Goes, Once Upon a Mattress and Little Shop of Horrors have been equal to any Broadway luminary and she’s shined in Shakespeare as well. I described Dougherty’s recent turn in Timbuktu, USA as a “delectable performance of the most entertaining lunacy” and have likewise admired him in Kingdom of Earth, Dracula and CAVE, among others.
What they failed to bring to Orpheus, however, was raw passion. Lady requires the charge of a Sophia Loren or Anna Magnani (who won an Oscar for Williams’ The Rose Tattoo); Claverie simply didn’t supply it. In a role that Williams envisioned for the young Elvis Presley, Dougherty lacked the sexiness that would cause women to swoon and men to be virulently jealous of. As Frank Rich wrote in 1989 of Kevin Anderson, in his review of a rare Broadway revival of Orpheus Descending, “he never emits the animalistic erotic charge of a character Williams likened to ‘a fox in a chicken coop.’”
(l.) Leslie Claverie, (r.) Benjamin Dougherty and Charlie Carr in Orpheus Descending (photos by Brittney Werner)
Charlie Carr was sensational in last year’s Streetcar Named Desire and 2023’s Spring Storm. Here, as Carol Cutrere, a rival for Val’s affections, she was also dazzling as a tortured soul in an utterly true and natural performance that lit up the stage every time she came on. Interestingly, however, because of this, it threw the production’s balance off somewhat; dominating the first few scenes, we kept waiting to see more of Carr/Cutrere but Williams brings her back only briefly in the play’s later parts. This is less a criticism than an observation (another observation–it might’ve been interesting if Carr and Claverie had swapped roles), but Diana Shortez’s more understated interpretation in the parallel role in Battle of Angels (an earlier version of Orpheus Descending seen here in 2013) seemed to fit in more effectively in the overall production.
Despite these caveats, this Orpheus was an entertaining and worthy evening of theater. Williams’ story may have originally been written some fourscore years ago, but its mean-spirited and small-minded characters, as well as those who hope for love and happiness, made it seem like it could have been ripped from today’s headlines.
Rosie! at the WWII Museum’s Stage Door Canteen
Rosie!, a new mini-musical, played an all-too-mini-run recently at the WWII Museum’s Stage Door Canteen. In the name of justice, equality and entertainment, I hope it returns for future campaigns.
Rosie! focused on and celebrated two of the most popular and enduring symbols of the WWII era, Rosie the Riveter and Wendy the Welder, as well as women workers’ contributions on the Home Front, in general.
Using these two iconic women and songs of the era, Ricky Graham’s script informed us that, during WWII, 2.5 million women worked at industrial jobs, often filling multiple shifts where they were expected to meet production quotas. While women’s lib was still a long way off, this experience began to shift the expectations of societal roles for women.
Of course, women were still expected to tend to home and family resulting in the musical plea, Milkman, Keep Those Bottles Quiet. Other songs that were nicely woven into the 35-minute production were Benny Goodman’s Minnie’s in the Money, Glenn Miller’s Peggy the Pin-up Girl, and Don’t Get Around Much Anymore by Duke Ellington
Under Erica Jensen’s fleet direction, Hannah Rachal and Cristina Perez Edmunds, as Rosie and Wendy, respectively, gave thoroughly engaging performances, their voices lovely and diction clear as always. Music Director Thomas Hook ensured that the music never overpowered the singers, allowing us to enjoy the songs’ snappy lyrics. Heidi Malnar’s choreography nicely took advantage of the small space with appropriate 1940s-inspired dance moves.
Cristina Perez Edmunds and Hannah Rachal in Rosie!
Despite a few flubs (easily overlooked as I attended the show’s first performance), Rosie! was a winning combination of entertainment and history, and a most suitable tribute to the courage, resilience, and ingenuity of the millions of WWII’s “soldiers without guns.” It merits being part of the Stage Door Canteen’s regular programming. Rosie and Wendy and all the women they represent deserve nothing less.
