Well this is the event of the year for Sydney Theatre Company. The cast is stellar, (sorry couldn’t resist), Cate Blanchett as Blanche DuBois, Joel Edgerton as Stanley Kowalski, Robin McLeavy as Stella Kowalski and directed by Liv Ullmann; the play is of course Tennessee Williams’ brilliant study of love, lies and self deceit, A Streetcar Named Desire.

Even before the play opens in Sydney there is drama on the stage; two days before opening night Stanley (Joel) tries to take Blanche (Cate) out with a bakelite radio; it nicely hones in on the anger and suppressed rage that runs through the play; the modern takes out the old, the clash between genteel Southern belles and the brash new industrialised working man of the post war era, fading Beauty and the raging Beast.

First produced on Broadway in 1947, it ran for two years winning the author the Pulitzer Prize for Drama. It has become a benchmark play and an even more famous movie starring the original Broadway cast with the exception of Jessica Tandy who was replaced by Vivian Leigh.

Now for the revival in Sydney at The Sydney Theatre; this is a production that probably has too much hype to live up to.

There is an air of expectation in the foyer; we are all expecting an important night at the theatre.

Once again I’m sure I am going to be in a minority, however, let’s cut straight to the chase; there are some really good things in this production maybe even some great things but this production stands or falls on the relationship between the three leads, Blanchett, Edgerton and McLeavy.

Edgerton’s take on Stanley doesn’t have enough of the mongrel in him, enough animal sex to make his dominance of Stella totally believable. Stanley should prowl the stage, oozing sexuality and animal, he should reek of the brute. He should be a hunter who relies on his instincts; in his first appearance he is bringing home a parcel of meat for his mate. He knows from the moment he sees Blanche that something about his wife’s sister is not honest and for the entire play he picks her apart, exposing her lies and playing with her vulnerabilities.

While Stella is written as a deferent, self effacing foil to the animalistic Stanley, this Stella is too much the suburban house-frau and not enough a woman who has thrown off the shackles of her repressed up-bringing to embrace the primal instincts that Stanley brings out in her. Where is the love, where is the passion? Stella should be a match for Stanley; a couple who fight and love with equal abandon.
Blanche, a self delusional, alcoholic, sex addict who still pretends and to some extent believes, that she is a twenty seven year old grand southern belle; a woman of refinement and manners. Blanche is a character played in the shadows, unable to look her reality in the face; she will never be seen in daylight or in a brightly lit room. Blanche creates illusions with her rhinestone jewellery and faux fox furs; Blanche is a creature of the evening; an aging relic from a dying class.

Blanchett needs a stronger Stanley to play against, she needs someone that can and should evoke in her mixed feelings of disgust and desire. The scenes between the two of them, while good, are never great, they seem to miss the energetic high points that the playwright demands, even the climatic confrontation near the end of the play doesn’t have the impact that it should.

However, the relationship between Blanche and Mitch (Tim Richards), works from the outset. Mitch, a kind and considerate man, a plain man who is caring for his dying mother; although not the type of man that Blanche would usually consider, is the closest thing to a gentleman to be found in this new world. Mitch is possibly her last, real chance of finding some kind of happiness. She toys with him, teases him; denying him the sex that she has given so freely to so many others. It’s these scenes that work best in this production.

I may be suffering from movie memory here but to me Streetcar is hot, wet and full of raw passion and desire; I missed the heat and humidity of New Orleans in the summer; I missed the sensuality, the sweat, the grime and the grit. While the set added to the idea of oppression and suppression, in the end it acted as a barrier, never allowing the world outside, the street, into the room, it’s as if the apartment is cocooned when in fact what happens outside should be as much a part of the play as what goes on inside; the noise of the street, of trains, of New Orleans.

There is much to like in this production but also much that leaves you wanting more; important opportunities missed. Maybe what was so shocking in 1947 is not so shocking now. I can’t help but compare Streetcar to Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, another play about love and fantasy’s inability to overcome reality, but I think that might be a whole new article.

A Streetcar Named Desire plays at the Sydney Theatre until October 3.

Photos: 1. Joel Edgerton (Stanley) and Cate Blanchett (Blanche), 2. Cate Blanchett (Blanche) and Robin McLeavy (Stella). © Lisa Tomasetti.