Wednesday 12 July 2017

The Steel Beneath The Skin

There can be few tougher challenges in theatre than trying to find something new to say, whether as director or actor, about a play that most people know as a major hit movie.  Worse still, many of your audience may well be convinced that the play derives from the movie, when in fact the opposite is far more likely to be the case.  Robert Harling's Steel Magnolias certainly proves the point.

Much of the dynamism of the justly famous film version (scripted by playwright Harling from his original play) lies in its poetic visual sense and use of different indoor and outdoor settings at different times of day.  The stage play, obviously, can't hope to compete on that level.  In fact, the play has just six characters and takes place in four scenes set entirely in Truvy's hairdressing salon.

The production currently playing at the Cameco Capitol Arts Centre in Port Hope ON until July 22, exemplifies the problem in spades and succeeds in overcoming the inevitable comparisons in large measure -- but not entirely.

The biggest handicap this production faces is in its set.  Whether due to space limitations or other factors, the set consists of a single long wall, exactly parallel to the audience seating, with only short wings angling out on either side.  In front there is a sizable thrust into the auditorium, but upstage, in front of the wall, is a huge space-eating sofa also exactly parallel to the audience seating.

Result: stage pictures inevitably deteriorated into characters moving back and forth in a very two-dimensional way, reminiscent of ducks in a shooting gallery at a fair.  The first act was especially bad for this.  Also, there were too many scenes of stationary seated actors talking to each other -- sideways.  Other scenes were played with actors trapped upstage of the beast, partially hidden from view.  I'd have given a great deal to see that sofa removed, and replaced with smaller chairs that could move around, angle towards each other, and generally create more interesting and flexible spaces for the actors to use.  In particular, the sizable thrust was greatly underused, and could have added much dynamic and visual interest to the show.

 And so to the characters, for this is almost entirely an actor's show.  There are simply no opportunities for flashy audio-visual effects or clever set tricks in this script, and any attempt to bring them in will backfire.

All six characters have to present a complex range of actions and intentions while maintaining a believable emotional arc at all times.  The challenge is greater for some than for others, and for each it is a challenge of a different kind.

Talen Waller as Annelle played the hesitancy of the first scene very well, coming close to overplaying her hand on occasion but never quite getting that far.  I would have liked to see more of the hesitancy transform into greater fervour and determination once she discovered the Baptist Church.

Alyssa McCallum brought many fine grace notes into her early scenes as Truvy.  I'd have liked a clearer sense from her of her relationship with her unseen couch-potato husband.  Her restraint in the opening minutes of the final scene was both subtle and moving.

Brenda Barr-Worsnop certainly caught the flippancy of Clairee, the rich widow with an ear for gossip.  She displayed numerous instances of great comic timing.  I wanted her to slow down the delivery a little during the final scene when she hauls Ouiser around and cries, "Hit her!" (with several subsequent variants).  I know the words but just in that one moment they were flying too fast to be distinguished.

Helen Pitt-Matthew as the rich old curmudgeon Ouiser brought plenty of fire to the role.  She also displayed ample variety of vocal inflection in the later scenes.  But her first scene appearance was delivered in almost a total monotone, scarcely any change in pitch or shaping of phrases.  This had me worried, but she clearly grew into the part as the show progressed.  There's room for more of both physical and vocal fire from Ouiser when Clairee grabs her in the final scene.

Kristy Bird presented the role of Shelby as a young spitfire, not just determined to have her way but determined enough to vocally smack down anyone who crossed her.  Interesting and believable take on a character who is sometimes presented as a sweet goody-two-shoes.  Bird's explanation to her mother of why she needed to have a child of her own was both intense and involving.

The most challenging role undoubtedly falls to Honor Sylvester as Shelby's mother, M'Lynn.  Sylvester stayed firmly inside her character, and all the complex emotions M'Lynn is feeling were palpably present at all times.

The biggest challenge for M'Lynn, for the director, and indeed for the entire company, comes in the final scene when M'Lynn cracks open and cries and rages.  It's a scene that demands extreme power, but also extreme control.  I've always felt that Sally Field in the film went too far over the top here, although her emotional turns-on-a-dime and her diction were both impeccable throughout.  Some day I hope to see the scene played with just two degrees lower temperature.  Here is a case where less would definitely be more, and doing your next-to-damnedest far better than doing your damnedest. 

In his production, the problem was that Sylvester pushed the moment so far and became so weepy that her words began to mush together, and the meaning behind a number of her lines was lost.  No doubt this is just what could well happen in real life.  Theatre, however, can be realistic sometimes, but real never.  The audience needs, and deserves, to hear exactly what M'Lynn is thinking and saying at this climactic moment. 

Director Antonio Sarmiento crafted some fine scenes within the limited space allowed, but also made some choices that hindered the overall results.  Of these, the biggest by far was the failure to make better use of the thrust stage space to vary the angles, pacing, and stage pictures.  Another choice that handicapped the show came in that climactic final scene, where he allowed the other four women to group around M'Lynn's chair and then stay in one place for far too long.  This might be varied, for instance, by having different women take turns to reach out to her at different moments, moving slightly in and out of M'Lynn's close personal space.  

Overall, pacing was both strong and flexible in the first half of the show but seemed to grow a bit slacker after the intermission.  And if that happened because the performers were carefully marshalling their inner forces for that devastating final scene, who could blame them?

Steel Magnolias, as play and as film, is a long-time favourite of mine.  While this is by no means a "definitive" staging of the play (not that I believe in any such foolish possibility!), it was still an enjoyable afternoon of theatre for me and the rest of the capacity audience, and I'm glad I made the trip to come and see the performance.

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