A Streetcar Named Desire

Critiqued by Holly Bartges

It's late, and time is of the essence, but Germinal Stage Denver's production of Tennessee Williams' 1948 Pulitzer Prize winning play, A Streetcar Named Desire, is the most outstanding production I have ever seen. (I have seen it many times, and many times have been awestruck by it.)

This particular production, directed and designed by Ed Baierlein, offers an element most other productions could not. The small intimate stage of GSD, demanding actors climb deep inside their characters to be believable. With the rich, superb cast, the audience sees through the eyes deep into the souls of each character.

This is one production of GSD's that cries for an extended run, although it seems as though I say that about each production. It doesn't matter how many times Streetcar has been seen, with this production it is as though it is being seen for the first time.

Generally, the focus lies upon the estranged, brutal tormenting relationship between Stanley Kowalski and Blanche DuBois. Rightly so. Representing two conflicting sides of Southern culture in torturing conflict to survive, the two characters demand attention. GSD's production, because of its intimate setting, shares the spotlight with every character probing the depth of the psyche for each. This isn't just a play to watch. It's to be experienced.

Lisa Rosenhagen and Thomas Borrillo in Germinal Stage Denver's production of A Streetcar Named Desire

With a highly ingenious set, separating the various areas where action takes place, the small stage lends itself amazingly well. Because of its creativity, the divided but open arena expands into a sense of reality.

Cocooning herself with fanciful dreams, Blanche moves in with her sister, Stella and her husband, Stanley in the French Quarter of New Orleans.

Michelle Moore wears the tragic life of Blanche as though the clothes were made just for her. Her talkative spirited nature tells a tale of fanciful success and happiness. Her eyes tell quite a different story. Moore uses them with precise intention. Hearing the familiar lines, Moore invites the audience to witness her inner self through the eyes into her soul.

Thomas Borrillo, as Stanley, takes the breath away. As of late, Borrillo has done some amazing pieces of work in the theatre. However, with Stanley, it is as though he was born to play this role. In the movie version, it is difficult to forget Marlon Bando as he agonizingly screams for Stella. Borrillo, on the other hand, comes close to erasing Brando from memory. Borrillo has so locked himself into Stanley's Being; his interpretation will not be soon forgotten. His complex expressions, his roving eye, his forceful demanding booming voice, his need for control, his little boy cry for Stella's love and strict obedience all come together with Stanley's body language. At times he's frightening, at times he's pathetic in his staunch desire for manliness.

Intimidated from the time they were small, Stella, (Lisa Rosenhagen) says little to her older sister. She listens. Blanche chides her for not talking. "At home," says Stella, she could hardly get a word in edge-wise. It is the clash between Stanley and Blanche that resonates throughout the theatre. It's also the heartfelt mousey approach and obedient structure between Stanley and Stella and Stella and Blanche.

Blanche, a fading Southern Belle, lost to deceit and alcoholism, laments the loss of their family home, Belle Reeve in Laurel, Mississippi. Because of her broken nerves, her supervisor has given her time off from her position as an English teacher. In all actuality, she was fired for having an affair with a 17-year-old student.

Stanley, rough, brutish, dominates his relationship to Stella with animalistic brutality. Not too bright, he appears, but bright enough to smell deceit, and bright enough to investigate, and bright enough to despise pretense. No, Stella hasn't told Blanche she is pregnant. She waits for the right time, Blanche whirls in regalia over her many suitors, and yet something there is about Stanley that frightens her. Perhaps it's his earthy honesty that rubs the coils of her very being with friction.

Stanley's poker buddies: Steve, (Jake Gallegos); Pablo, (Mike Kane); and Mitch, (Leroy Leonard) appear immune to Stanley's abusive behavior. They fold in with the cards, with the exception of Mitch. Leonard's personification of Mitch steals some scenes of his own with his far away look as he falls for Blanche. He wants to be somebody, and that somebody could well be Blanche's savior if only he could convince her in the process of convincing himself.

Julie Michalak's portrayal of the Mexican Woman takes on an exceptional eerie sense as she stands and stares. She knows something, something no one else sees and her silence speaks volumes. She represents a piece of the social whirl detesting pretense in its own right, that smells deceit, that foresees disaster looming in the path of a head on collision. Although she says nothing and does little, her presence is powerful.

As the Young Man collecting for the Evening Star, Craig Ewing, swings into action with Blanche, as she tries to come onto him, wanting to keep him around. Ewing's eyes dance with aliveness of a young, virile man who sees through the fading Southern Belle. A conquest lies within arm's reach, but strings of fear tighten around his throat,

Leroy Leonard and Michelle Moore in Germinal Stage Denver's production of A Streetcar Named Desire

Stella's friend, Bernice, who lives upstairs, flirts and flaunts her way through a sea of men, is brought to life by Mary Cates in a most enchanting way. Sympathetic toward Blanche, and protective, she offers support without interfering.

When Stanley confronts Blanche with the truth, when his animalistic energy drives him to rape, Blanche's world caves in around her and she falls victim to a nervous breakdown.

The last scene of this production will forever be embellished in the mind and in the heart of anyone who experiences it. With everyone on stage, while Stella has convinced Blanche someone is there to see her. The Doctor (Baierlein) and Matron (Michalak) wait patiently from the mental hospital Stanly has called upon. Blanche has totally caved into her fantasies. When someone falls this hard and this heavy no one celebrates. The eyes, the expressions, tell the story. Interesting to speculate, how things will be different between Stanley and Stella, or will they go back to the same co-dependent relationship so soundly established? One cannot go through this traumatic moment, without something changing inside.

Rosenhagan's Stella breaks the heart, as her eyes flood with agonizing stress over Blanche. There's pride with Stanley for his accomplishment, and yet in Borrillo's eyes lies a tinge of remorse. Mitch stares in devastation at the loss of his dream of becoming somebody important, at the same time clutching over being so vulnerable to Blanche's cardboard wall of desperation.

Because of the intimate look into William's famous characters, interesting speculative correlation to our own society, our own world, falls into place.

GSD's production is a show no should miss, and will remain one begging to be repeated because of William's incredible ability to clothe human nature, because of Baierlein's intensified insight into Williams, and because of a cast ever so willing to surrender themselves to complex characterizations.

A Streetcar Named Desire
By Tennessee Williams; Directed & Designed by Ed Baierlein