Graney’s Style Effective in Williams’ Cat

BY Kevin Heckman

John Byrnes and Jennifer Grace in The Hypocrites’ Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

After 10 years of observing Sean Graney and his work with The Hypocrites, I've come to expect certain things. Generally, Graney starts with a classic text and then offers a strong visual interpretation. Sometimes those visuals augment the script's themes, sometimes they detract, but they'll most always be interesting.

Tennessee Williams embraced an overt theatricality and even his best known plays call for expressionistic touches, so his work would seem a natural match for Graney's inclinations. And certainly this Cat on a Hot Tin Roof offers tons of visual style. Performed in the round at Building Stage's new warehouse space, Geoffrey M. Curley's set design surrounds the audience with bits of trees and hanging vegetation while dozens of naked light bulbs hang over the playing area. We're certainly in an old-style Southern plantation, but one where things are more than a little dreamy.

Graney, with help from light designer Jared Moore, offers a number of touches all his own. At certain key moments, the lights fade to a spot on a particular character. The coming storm causes the lights to flicker throughout the tense third act. On the whole, the more overt touches work well. A few feel more awkward, like the child dressed as a robot who makes an appearance as Big Daddy describes the body as a machine. It's an understandable touch, but brings nothing more to the moment. On the whole, though, Graney's choices work well in creating an evocative world in which the play can exist.

His cast offers generally strong performances. John Byrne is a long-time Hypocrites veteran who seems to do his best work with Graney. His Brick is no exception, mixing drive and cool in equal measure. Jennifer Grace's Maggie has some trouble with act one, a tall order for any actress, since it consists, essentially, of one long monologue. Things get a little shrill, but she fares much better in the more subtle acts two and three. Rob Scrocki's Big Daddy has all the necessary bluster and gravitas and Kate Harris does nice work as Big Mama, particularly as her world starts to fall apart.

While this isn't a definitive Cat, it's certainly a strong production that does justice to Tennessee Williams' world. It's not a short evening, clocking in just under three hours, but if you haven't seen this particular script in production, it's three hours well spent.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, The Hypocrites

Chris Jones, Tribune--"In general, this is one of those conceptual shows wherein the intensity of the concept comes and goes, and it's better when it's coming rather than going. There's an inordinate amount of physical pushing and shoving. John Byrnes' Brick never seems to be on his two messed-up feet for more than a few minutes at a time. Liquor is poured all over the floor. Kicked glasses nudge the front row of seats. Kate Harris' high-octane Big Mama has quite the screech. As strange as that all sounds, though, the show works best when it takes that step out there. Some of the physicality could be better-earned, but the rough-housing and the stormy sound and light cues (when they arrive) sparks the drama nicely."

Hedy Weiss, Sun-Times--"Of course, this is not the first time that Hypocrites director Sean Graney has turned his attention to a frequently revived modern classic, and found a way to make his audiences listen to it with fresh ears, and hear things that might never have been heard quite so clearly before. Nor is it the first time he has made somewhat eccentric yet inspired casting choices. But Williams' ferocious emotionalism is an ideal fit for Graney, as is the playwright's take-no-prisoners sense of family dynamics and self-destructive behavior, and his gut-level feel for the rage and resentment that can come from being marginalized by poverty, haunted by guilt or revolted by lies."

Jack Helbig, Reader--"Tennessee Williams's steamy drama about a frustrated wife, her sexually confused husband, and his fearsome and domineering father is directed by Sean Graney for the Hypocrites. This intense, often brilliant, sometimes eccentric revival is performed with such energy and inspiration that the three-hour running time just flies by."

Nina Metz, New City--"Tennessee Williams' roiling tale of sex, lies and money-grubbing money grubbers has never been about subtlety, but in the hands of Hypocrites artistic director Sean Graney, the theatrical fireworks practically ignite the curtains and anything else flammable lying around. The joint never quite burns to the ground in this production, but there's a whole lot of collateral damage nonetheless. Every neck here has a vein or two that's popping, which isn't to say you won't find some winning moments in this vivisection of mendacity and family dysfunction."

Kris Vire, Time Out--"Tennessee Williams's play about a Southern family poisoned by repression and lies creaks a bit in the Hypocrites' revival, though it's not the fault of the actors; Jennifer Grace as Maggie, John Byrnes as Brick and Rob Scrocki as Big Daddy are pillars of an expertly cast ensemble. The excesses come from director Sean Graney, whose stylistic flourishes--isolating characters in spotlights at key moments, using Kevin O'Donnell's music under important dialogue--are like a highlighter in a textbook."

Jenn Q. Goddu, Free Press--"The Hypocrites' ability to ramp up the intensity of familiar works in new and interesting ways is demonstrated to great effect in company artistic director Sean Graney's exciting take on Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. On its own, Tennessee Williams' play is already a captivating drama of misery, greed, lies and passion. Yet there is a new thrilling tension as The Hypocrites present Maggie, a woman desperate for her alcoholic husband Brick's affection."

Tim Sauers, Gay Chicago--"The Hypocrites' revival retains some of the greatness of Williams' writing as his richly textured characters display moments of melodramatic splendor and blistering funny humor. Sean Graney's well-intentioned, well-paced, atmospheric direction ensures that the language fizzes and sizzles for its three-hour running as his committed cast tackle both the language and the action with headstrong dramatic urgency. Sometimes, though, the work proceeds a bit too obvious and could use some subtle strokes and the dramatic conflicts become a bit too shrill, begging for restraint. Better this than a dull, lifeless interpretation."

All Night Strut, Marriott Theatre

Chris Jones, Tribune--"In essence, Robin has created several enjoyable little musicals within a musical, forging clever dance narratives within such iconic settings as World War II or an old-fashioned Broadway company, replete with egomaniacal stars and kids looking to break out from the chorus... But where the show has serious problems is in the thorny matter of how all this weaves together (or, more accurately, doesn't). The show has been loosed from its period, but it's not yet clear what has replaced a style-bound era as the narrative arc."

Fabrizio O. Almeida, New City--"Not surprisingly then, distinctiveness is absent from this spectacular failure that takes a 20-year-old song-and-dance revue (using hits and dance styles of the '30s and '40s) and tries unsuccessfully to fashion it into a hip musical and movement juggernaut incorporating new circus, aerial ballet and street dance. The problem is, everything in this show has been done before and it has been done better."

Bohemian Nights, Chopin Theatre

Chris Jones, Tribune--"The new for-profit show Bohemian Nights is a campy soft-porn movie (of 1970s vintage) rendered as a play. You could reasonably accuse its creators of many things--tackiness, incompetence, the exploitation of local actors, a jaw-dropping lack of aesthetic taste--but they certainly have a modicum of imagination. To get over the obvious production problems presented by copious amounts of farcical sexual activity taking place in a live theatre, they came up with the idea of outfitting their actors in bodysuits and drawing the necessary sexual equipment thereupon. Never has one quite seen the like."

Hedy Weiss, Sun-Times--"To say that Bohemian Nights ranks as one of the more bizarre experiences I've had in a Chicago theatre over many long years is probably to vastly understate the case. And this has nothing to do with my being scandalized (I was not) by what might best be described as a soft-core sex farce of the most wildly politically incorrect variety... No stereotype goes unperpetuated in this retro-1970s farce--a show with an underlying creepiness factor that is off the charts despite all the winks, nudges and goofiness."

Jack Helbig, Reader--"Dorothy Tristan's 'bawdy new comedy' has its sexy moments, but much of the time the play's potential is muffled by its icky premise--a man insists his wife pick up lovers so he can spy on their trysts--and by the clumsiness of the production, directed by Tristan's husband, filmmaker John Hancock."

Brian Kirst, Free Press--"With Bohemian Nights, writer Dorothy Tristan and director John Hancock have created a fun frolic with some nice emotional under-shadings. While this production, created in association with the Chopin Theatre and Prop Thtr, eventually strays too far away from its sweetly erotic beginnings, it's still an entertaining enterprise and a beautiful chance to witness the high-caliber talents of the well journeyed Tristan and Hancock."

Mary Shen Barnidge, Windy City--"The production currently occupying the Chopin Theatre employs the usual low-budget devices in its attempt to realize Tristan's cinematic vision. Locale is suggested by large photographs borne across the stage like the scorecards at boxing matches, while scene changes are expedited by a turntable that revolves with the speed and silence of a brontolieon thunder-machine. The level of expertise varies among the actors, ranging from Kenn E. Head, as the diddy-bopping cicisbeo to Sam Potter's patently unthreatening Tarantino-quirky gangster. Chris Ussery's sound design, however, employs a uniformly well-selected medley of sweet-salacious disco-era ditties."

Sonia Flew, Steppenwolf Theatre Co.

Chris Jones, Tribune--"That sense is probably heightened by a can't-commit production concept that wants to explore a symbolic, magic-realism influence but cannot quite unleash itself from Anglo-oriented domestic melodrama... For the first half, at least, this uneasy production badly needs a cohesive style, a stronger ensemble connection and the courage of its own symbolist convictions. Things eventually settle down. Jeff Still, floundering in the first act, turns in a powerful second-act performance as a Cuban turncoat. And Alan Wilder, ditto, is genuinely moving as a Cuban academic trying to save his daughter from an ugly revolution. The terrific Vilma Silva, who plays Sonia's mother in Cuba, also roots and calms the show after intermission."

Kerry Reid, Reader--"Melinda Lopez' play, about a Cuban immigrant in Minneapolis, begins as a warm valentine to ecumenical family values, detours into melodrama, takes another turn into war docudrama, steps back in time to Castro's revolution, and concludes with a pop-psychology truism: our secrets hurt us. With all that going against it, as well as Jessica Thebus' curiously schizophrenic direction and a stage design that almost buries what's essentially a domestic memory play, it's a wonder the show manages to be effective at all. But it is, at least at times, and much of the credit for that goes to fine performances."

Nina Metz, New City--"If only the play could lose its Act One appendage, as well. As it is, the linking of our current war on terror with that of the terrors in Cuba--as well as the terrors committed against Jews in Europe, circa World War II; i.e. the Jewish grandpa storyline--is forced and offers a slippery sort of intellectualism. Theatre-induced introspection comes when you see people living out their lives, not debating them."

Lawrence Bommer, Free Press--"Sadly, Lopez focuses monomaniacally and formulaically on Sonia's denial and despair. Despite Sandra Marquez and Sandra Delgado's stellar portrayals of the mature and young Sonia, it's hard to sympathize with this recrimination machine... Jessica Thebus' staging of this Steppenwolf local premiere, which anchors the predictable emotions in a very real Minneapolis and Havana, makes fresh what the writing left stale--the underwhelming discovery that children must learn from their parents' follies, if not to forgive, then to avoid them."

Quote of the Fortnight:

"It doesn't seem fair. We bitch and moan about all the things new musicals can't get right: they're tacky jukebox travesties; they draw from unworthy or inappropriate sources; they make fun of themselves like a fat kid at camp because they're embarrassed to be musicals at all. And then along comes a new one with all the right measurements--terrific source material that practically already sings on the page, an entirely new score in which the music advances the story, characters who have no idea they're in a musical--and it barely elicits a shrug."--Christopher Piatt reviewing Chicago Shakespeare's production of The Three Musketeers in Time Out.

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