Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis Lets the Secrets Speak in ‘Appropriate’

Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis Lets the Secrets Speak in ‘Appropriate’

By CB Adams

Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis has lavished Branden Jacobs-Jenkins’ “Appropriate” with an extraordinary amount of artistry, care and, yes, love. Director Benny Sato Ambush and company expend all three in service to the script, then leave it to the audience to decide what to carry away. A production this accomplished leaves the play nowhere to hide.

What emerges is a play about the corrosive nature of secrets and what happens when excavation produces more questions than certainty. The horrifying photographs discovered among a dead father’s possessions provide the catalyst, while foreshadowing something still more disturbing and revelatory. What they unleash within his surviving family becomes the play.

The Lafayettes, a white Southern family, have gathered at their late father’s crumbling Arkansas plantation house to empty it, sell it and presumably get on with their lives. Scenic and lighting designer Matthew McCarthy’s cluttered house looks in need of repair—hell, beyond repair—much like the family temporarily occupying it. The place is simultaneously familiar and foreign to them, an ambiguity Ambush mines throughout.

So does his exceptional ensemble. This is a family of old wounds and long memories of psychic bruises, and Jacobs-Jenkins knows where to press. Eventually everyone presses back. Fights are notoriously difficult to stage convincingly, and fight choreographer Shaun Sheley engineers this one so that accumulating hostility makes violence feel inevitable even as its eruption arrives as a shock. Bodies collide, years of grievance turn physical, and the production lands one of its most difficult moments.

Jilanne Marie Klaus makes Toni’s anger intelligible while allowing its ugliness full rein. Her grievances have calcified into an understanding of sacrifice, loyalty and what she believes she is owed. By Toni’s climactic declaration, Klaus has made clear how she arrived there, even as Toni reveals how far those grievances have carried her.

Joel Moses spends significant stage time bare-chested as Franz attempts to lay bare the man he believes he has become. Moses turns a faux-baptism and Franz’s pleas for understanding into blistering acts of self-revelation. Then Frank’s past resurfaces, forcing the family to contend with the man he was and the man claiming to stand before them now.

Michael James Reed begins with Bo’s recognizable silhouette—the tightly wound New Yorker juggling a threatened career, wife and children while hoping to dispatch his family obligations—and gradually opens him to something more vulnerable. In the aftermath of the violence, Reed brings Bo both home and not-home, allowing believable tears to reveal another dimension of a man whose competence has carried him only so far.

The women reveal different constructions of womanhood as the house strips away first impressions. Lizi Watt tightly unwinds Rachael scene by scene, moving the exasperated wife and in-law toward grievances and moral claims she fully earns. Maggie Newstead-Adams lets River arrive in full crunchy-granola, woo-woo New Age space-cadet mode, then deftly reveals deeper waters beneath the family’s assumptions about softness, youth and femininity.

The next generation is already carrying things forward. Braden Phillips makes Rhys a kind of put-upon horny Boo Radley opposite Ainsley Hammond’s naive teenage-rager Cassidy, while the youngest child innocently supplies one of the evening’s consequential revelations about the grandfather none of them fully knew.

Then there is the album.

It looks almost like a revered family Bible, a hefty, timeworn volume expected to preserve births, deaths and generations of Lafayette history. Instead, its pages contain photographs documenting horrific racial violence against Black Americans. Ambush stages this grotesque inversion of a family keepsake almost as another character, introducing the book with a held moment in a spotlight. It passes from revulsion to fascination and something more uncomfortable: prurience, that human impulse to gawk, the same one that slows traffic as drivers looky-loo through their windows at a fatal crash.

The album gets deliberately submerged in an attempt at erasure, then returns waterlogged to center stage as the family contemplates what it might fetch. The progression grows more grotesque: horror becomes curiosity, human suffering becomes collectible, and finally someone puts a price on it.

There is something here of Tim O’Brien’s “The Things They Carried,” his collection of linked stories about the physical and emotional burdens carried by soldiers in Vietnam. Call these the things they inherited: the Lafayettes return carrying old grievances and discover their dead father has left them much more to carry.

That inheritance also explains why “Appropriate” belongs at a Tennessee Williams festival. Jacobs-Jenkins has acknowledged borrowing from Williams and other American dramatists. That is the Tennessee Effect at work: inheritance put back to work, absorbed, altered and extended. “Appropriate” might be what happens when Big Daddy from “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” is already dead and buried—or is he? The patriarch is gone, but the house, the inheritance, the secrets and the damage remain.

Sound designer Mary Robinson’s insistent cicadas and ghostly whispers make the world beyond the house almost another presence. Ambush opens that world further in his culminating historical montage, where Robinson’s sound carries us from the secrets of one Southern family into the larger history of racial violence in America. Different people in the audience inevitably receive that history from different starting points. The production can put the same history before everyone. It cannot make that history equally remote—or equally revelatory—to everyone.

Walking toward the parking lot afterward, one woman supplied perhaps the most appropriate curtain line:

“I feel like we need a debrief.”

Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis’s production of Branden Jacobs-Jenkins’ “Appropriate” runs through Sept. 27 at the Catherine B. Berges Theatre at COCA, with remaining performances Sept. 25–27. For tickets and more information, visit twstl.org.

Family Confronts Past and Present in TWSTL’s Explosive ‘Appropriate’

Family Confronts Past and Present in TWSTL’s Explosive ‘Appropriate’

By Lynn Venhaus

With its complex characters, fractured family dynamic and multi-layered storyline, Branden Jacobs-Jenkins’ explosive drama “Appropriate” has much to unpack.

At their peak, a powerhouse local cast takes us on an unsettling, unforgettable journey, for their characters aren’t prepared for all the emotional baggage that will spill out. Well-cast and well-rehearsed, this production showcases intense immediate realism.

Dark secrets will be revealed, forever shaking the family. Think of it like a bandage being ripped off an open wound – repeatedly. The atmosphere is combustible – a marvel of sight, sound, imagery and tension under Benny Sato Ambush’s direction.

The cicadas are loudly buzzing on a hot, muggy summer night in rural southeast Arkansas when three Lafayette siblings converge to settle their late father’s estate. The clutter in the decaying plantation home is as profound as the anxiety as they prepare for an estate sale.

This is not a warm family reunion – interactions are awkward, bitter and contentious. This play, first performed in 2013 and then off-Broadway a year later, was revived in 2023 to much acclaim. Its power is intact, reminding us of systemic racism and unconscious bias when it’s hard to confront as legacy.

The Lafayette siblings – Jilanne Marie Barnes, Joel Moses, and Michael James Reed, with Lizi Watt holding photo album.

Wayward son Francois “Frank” (Joel Moses), who now calls himself “Franz,” is seeking redemption after years of addiction and bad behavior. He drove there from Portland with his eccentric young fiancé, River (Maggie Newstead-Adams).

Stressed-out eldest sister Antoinette “Toni” (Jilanne Marie Barnes) considers him toxic and won’t extend an olive branch. Brother Beauregard “Bo” (Michael James Reed), an attorney like their father, is expecting to take charge like he always does, but Toni is the executor. They all bicker incessantly.

Bo’s wife, Rachael (Lizi Watt), and their two precocious children, Cassidy (Ainsley Hammond) and Ainsley (Aviv Giancola-Poremba), came from New York City, thinking of this as an educational trip. Toni’s troubled son Rhys (Braden Phillips) is present. These are flawed relatives with enough intergenerational trauma for an eight-episode limited series.

“Appropriate,” with all the intentional meanings of that word, will delve into race, identity, and historical legacy. As the patriarch’s despicable past is discovered, the evidence can’t be ignored or denied. How family members deal with a photo album of graphic lynchings and other disgusting emblems of a vicious white supremist adds to the uncomfortable territory.

The playwright, who has won two Tony Awards, a Pulitzer Prize for Drama, and an Obie Award, has a natural command of how people interact and converse. His dense dialogue combines caustic wit with raw pain and sharp contemporary insight – and yes, phrases will shock.

Not a fun family reunion.

Joel Moses’ Franz is this deeply vulnerable bundle of insecurities, trying to show the better person he has become, but his siblings can’t let go of their hurtful memories about his decadent past and their resentful feelings. Unlocking a pitiable black sheep as only he can, Frank is another masterful performance by one of St. Louis’ finest actors.

Joining him in top-tier reliability is Michael James Reed, who is, without fail, always at the top of his game. He provides interesting layers to the complicated Bo, Ivy League-educated and successful.

At first, it feels like Bo checked out of caring about his family a long time ago. His main concern is the corporate ladder, and he appears to be the family “fixer.” Money-centered, he’d monetize the dad’s hateful artifacts in a heartbeat. But he’d love to distance himself from this tarnished past; he just wants to recoup all the funds he spent caring for dear old dad and get back to Manhattan.

Jilanne Barnes’ Toni is tired. Exhausted by life, her short straw, and trying to fix broken things that can’t be repaired, she is unpleasant for 95% of her stage time. That is heavy for an actress, and Barnes’ meets the challenge. Toni sacrificed and deeply cared for her father. She refuses to sully his memory.

Shrill and spiteful, she has alienated most everyone there, especially Bo’s Jewish wife Rachael. First impressions on the sister-in-law are that she’s a typical affluent status-conscious mother, trying to control the outside world’s influence on her children.

Estate sale preparation not going smoothly.

Lizi Watt displays Rachael’s buttons that Toni keeps pushing, with antisemitic name-calling, and it gets ugly — “August: Osage County” nasty. Fight choreographer Shaun Sheley’s work is noteworthy.

Most surprising is Maggie Newstead-Adams’ nuanced portrait of River. She presents herself as New Age and is derided for her ‘hippy-dippy’ qualities. Assuming she’s a stereotype, she proves herself to be wise beyond her 23 years and compassionate. Newstead-Adams’ poise among all the other acclaimed talent is impressive.

Spiritually, she is most attuned to the ghosts haunting this old plantation. Mary Robinson’s impeccable sound design announces the spirits’ eerie presence, as the family talks about the two graveyards on the property – one white, one with black slaves (without headstones).

When the third generation finds disturbing relics of their bigoted grandfather, the sins of the past erupt. As the program points out: “Walls remember what a family chooses to forget.”

By society’s standards, Daddy — Ray Lafayette — was a highly successful, highly educated man. He lived in Washington D.C. for a time, during a lauded legal career, and chose to return to the ancestral homestead, with thoughts of turning it into a bed-and-breakfast.

What secrets does Daddy have in that photo album?

Toni and Frank both refer to his mental deterioration, but the moral decay is something the family is loathe to address. But they start to peel back time, remembering behaviors. An all-white cast, dealing with the reality of historical racism, examines how the past haunts the present, and the bigger picture that it represents.

The outstanding artisans connected with this complicated production have crafted a stunning, crumbling Southern Gothic setting. The ambience is immediate, and so are the bad vibes. Matthew McCarthy’s richly appointed set design, complimented by Mikhail Lynn’s meticulous prop design, plunges us into this dilapidated structure, with the family’s despair emanating from every junk-filled corner.

McCarthy also designed effective lighting, and Ethan Dudenhoeffer was a wizard as technical director. Abby Pastorello’s costume design captured every character’s personality with terrific verve.

To reduce commentary about “Appropriate” can point out the obvious — a dysfunctional family in deep denial, which could stamp Tennessee Williams’ “The Glass Menagerie” and other landmark plays in the same way. That is why it’s not hard to see this connection that the Tennessee Williams St. Louis Festival chose to pivot with — “The Tennessee Effect” as this 11th year’s theme. It’s, well, appropriate.

Big brother will man-splain.

The takeaways are plentiful. We can only try to do better when we know better. If we aren’t willing to have discussions, where does society go?

In “Appropriate,” there is no tidy ending, no way to wrap up with a soothing bromide or suppress this legacy. The two-act dark drama is raw, unflinching, and damning of white fragility.

Some inheritance. They should be hot and bothered. And so should we.

The Tennessee Williams Festival presents the St. Louis premiere of “Appropriate” Sept. 17-27. Performances take place at the Berges Theatre at COCA in University City. For more information: twstl.org

Williams’ Timeless Poetic Realism Is Reconstructed in A Bold, Different ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’

Williams’ Timeless Poetic Realism Is Reconstructed in A Bold, Different ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’

By Lynn Venhaus

A bold, ambitious “A Streetcar Named Desire” is the centerpiece in this year’s 10th annual Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis.

A contemporary interpretation of the playwright’s most iconic work nearly 80 years after his masterpiece stunned Broadway audiences, director Michael James Reed asks us to look at the Pulitzer Prize and Tony-winning drama with fresh eyes. He prefers the term ‘reconstruction’ instead of ‘deconstruction,’ and that is what he delivers.

Already a relic from the past, fading and fragile Southern belle Blanche DuBois arrives at her sister Stella’s doorstep, to stay at her run-down two-room flat. Stella’s brutish working-class husband Stanley Kowalski isn’t aware of her visit and, immediately agitated, locks horns with his attention-seeking sister-in-law.

Over the course of the stifling summer, tempers flare, and Stanley becomes increasingly volatile, his bullying obsessive, while Blanche unravels – her displacement, discomfort and disorders adding to her breakdown. Stanley’s verbal and physical abuse becomes too much, leading to sexual abuse.

Todd D’Amour and Beth Bartley. Suzy Gorman photo.

This doomed power play leaves wreckage from a predator and prey situation, for Blanche appears like a frightened caged animal, her feminine wiles no longer effective.

Her final line, as she clings to a gentle doctor (David Wassilak) escorting her away: “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers” is shattering.

The cast portrays these indelible roles through a lens that is both rooted in Tennessee Williams’ dysfunctional framework and then Reed’s challenge to bring something different to their characterizations.

Some of the choices go outside the lines of our perceptions — with Todd D’Amour’s tightly wound abusive Stanley displaying pathological cruelty, Beth Bartley’s grittier desperate Blanche masking her many indignities, and Isa Venere’s younger Stella enabling and helpless. Think of it as an American horror story in retrospect.

As the local festival has amplified the past 10 years, Williams’ works are about loss in some way – of beauty, love, youth, identity and/or way of life, and this manifests through a range of characters developed during a career spanning 50 years, from the 1930s to his death in 1983 at age 71. After “The Glass Menagerie” made him a rising star in 1944, he opened 14 plays on Broadway from 1947 to 1980.

This is the first time that I really felt Williams’ own torment, of how humiliating it was for him to work with bullies like Stanley at the International Shoe Company during his formative years here, at a time when he was not free to express his sexuality and there was a very specific masculine ‘standard’ in society, not to mention another variation on his beloved sister Rose, mentally challenged at a time it was not understood. His own feelings poured out in these characters.

Looking back today, one sees societal changes colliding in Williams’ most famous work –the new South vs. the past, and women’s evolution regarding gender roles.

Post-war America, during this long, hot summer on Elysian Fields Street, adjacent to the French Quarter of New Orleans, we feel the heat. Sometimes, the atmosphere feels suffocating without any relief, while other times it feels like the tension is so thick and volatile, it could combust.

In that setting, the raw intensity seeps through, revealing harsh truths and emphasizes Williams’ timeless themes of illusion, trauma, power, control, and desire, and when reality hits head-on, how it changes expectations.

Beth Bartley and Isa Venere. Photo by Suzy Gorman.

After the play debuted to a thunderous 7-minute standing ovation on Dec. 3, 1947, it was adapted into an acclaimed Academy Award-winning film in 1951, with three of the four principals reprising their roles– Marlon Brando, Kim Hunter and Karl Malden, but Vivien Leigh as Blanche instead of Jessica Tandy.

Let’s face it, comparisons are inevitable, and “Streetcar” continues to be performed around the globe, never out of view. Andre Previn’s 1998 opera is part of Opera Theatre of St. Louis’ line-up next summer and a 2022 London play revival transferred to off-Broadway earlier this year for a limited run starring acclaimed Irish actor Paul Mescal, who won an Olivier Award as Stanley, and Spanish-British actress Patsy Ferran as Blanche.

The roles are demanding because they can easily go over-the-top into caricatures. After all, their indelible work has been exaggerated into comic archetypes in pop culture for decades.

Bartley’s panicked Blanche reunites with her sister, and Venere’s Stella, goes into caretaker mode, even when she learns that their family estate, Belle Rive in Laurel, Mississippi, has been lost to creditors.

Eric Dean White and Beth Bartley as Mitch and Blanche. Photo by Suzy Gorman.

A traumatized Blanche recalls taking care of their dying relatives without help. She says she has taken a leave of absence from teaching high school literature because her nerves are so frayed. Bartley and Venere share a comfortable chemistry.

Enter suspicious, coarse and crude Stanley. D’Amour isn’t imposing, nor is he articulate. With mumbled lines, he’s hard to understand and harder to relate to, and that’s unfortunate because it throws the balance off.

Stella, caught in the middle, must try to keep the peace between the warring factions, but she is ineffective. She and Stanley share a tempestuous sexual attraction, and his aggressive domestic violence is despicable (never acceptable, no matter what era, but being a batterer fits his offensive personality).

While Stanley seethes, Blanche makes herself at home, languishing in the bathtub, lounging in their shabby quarters, secretly drinking, and putting on her Southern Belle airs.

With her fanciful ways, she attracts an admirer — Stanley’s war buddy and poker-playing friend, Harold “Mitch” Mitchell (Eric Dean White), a bachelor who lives with his ailing mother. A raging Stanley will destroy that tender union after uncovering Blanche’s scandalous secrets back home.

Photo by Suzy Gorman

Trembling like an older, needier Judy Garland, whom she resembles, and acting delusional like the moody narcissistic Norma Desmond in “Sunset Boulevard,” Bartley is heart-breaking living out a fantasy life while she is clearly in decline. Now that we know more about mental health, it’s obvious Blanche has Histrionic Personality Disorder.

It’s a devastating portrait, and she also reveals a skilled manipulator, who has managed to survive using the theatrical tools in her toolbox.

As Mitch, White shows his sweet side, and two lonely people find comfort in each other. She’s flirtatious while she tells tall tales, and he’s smitten. When he confronts Blanche with what he’s discovered about her many liaisons and seductions in her hometown, though, his anger is visible – he’s done with being a nice guy.

The other supporting characters are lived-in examples of the area – top-shelf veterans Emily Baker and Isaiah DiLorenzo are their loud neighbors (and landlords) Eunice and Steve, who live upstairs. DiLorenzo and Wassilak are the two cast members that were in the festival’s award-winning 2018 “Streetcar” production.

Jeremiah King is a young collector, Cedric Leiba Jr. is another poker player, and Gwynneth Rausch is a nurse. Offstage, Jocelyn Padilla voices a flower collector. She also served as the intimacy coordinator. Jack Kalan was the fight choreographer.

Both Matthew McCarthy’s moody lighting design and Phillip Evans’ sound design are strong in this production, with dramatic illuminations and a discordant cacophony and jazzy-blues music adding to the atmosphere.

Two elements puzzled me. For a story that emphasizes claustrophobia in such small quarters, the set design did not appear so. Patrick Huber favored a nod to mid-century modern décor, with a neon palette more suited to another era or pre-school, that was stretched out on the Grandel stage.

Shevare Perry’s costume design for most of the cast worked fine, but Blanche’s daytime outfits appeared misfitting and Stella’s pants in the opening scene were jarring. Blanche’s flouncy nightgowns and bright red satin robe were just right.

Perhaps those choices were all in keeping with tossing out pre-conceived notions for this production.

Set design by Patrick Huber, lighting design by Matthew McCarthy. Photo by Suzy Gorman.

“A Streetcar Named Desire” maintains its power in Williams’ vivid poetic realism and lyrical dialogue that continues to captivate. While I prefer more emotionally charged character renderings, which was what Blanche aimed for, instead of a detached one like Stanley and Stella, these were choices made for a different take. In real life, D’Amour and Bartley are married.

Williams’ view of outsiders, of deeply flawed humans, continues to resonate some 80 years later, and that’s worth celebrating.

The Tennessee Williams Festival presents “A Streetcar Named Desire” Aug. 7 – 17 at the Grandel Theatre in Grand Center. For more information, visit www.twstl.org

Blanche DuBois (Beth Bartley). Photo by Suzy Gorman.

White-Hot ‘Suddenly Last Summer’ Burns Brightly on TWSTL Stage

White-Hot ‘Suddenly Last Summer’ Burns Brightly on TWSTL Stage

By Lynn Venhaus

Featuring an indelible performance by Naima Randolph as the traumatized Catharine Holly in an impeccably staged “Suddenly Last Summer,” this year’s Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis’ centerpiece created a vivid atmospheric contemplation on mental health, homophobia, and the truth.

These topics often associated with the playwright are still thought-provoking in contemporary times, some 66 years after he wrote it in New York City and first presented off-Broadway in 1958 as a 90-minute one-act, double-billed with “Something Unspoken.”

One of Williams’ most haunting and lyrical works, “Suddenly Last Summer” is best known for the melodramatic 1959 movie starring three future legends –Elizabeth Taylor as Cathy and Katherine Hepburn as Violent Venable, both Oscar-nominated for their performances, and Montgomery Clift as Dr. “Sugar,” and those shadows loom large.

The screenplay, a Williams’ collaboration with Gore Vidal, differs from the play in opening it up to show scenes at the beach, and other scenes, characters, and subplots were added. This being through a ‘50s lens, they had to remove explicit references to homosexuality. It’s a different world today in terms of taboos, although people still use each other, and issues raised persist.

Lisa Terejo by Suzy Gorman

However dated the material, director Tim Ocel doesn’t downplay the inferences. He is a master at interpreting Williams’ artistry, making it relatable for a modern audience.

Along with producer Carrie Houk, a master caster and the festival’s executive producer, he has put together a powerhouse ensemble, who brings to life many dark elements of human nature – including greed, deception, delusion, desire, desperation, and dominance.

Just as he did in a stunning “A Streetcar Named Desire” in 2018 and meticulous “The Night of the Iguana” in 2019, both at The Grandel, Ocel’s retelling is fresh and visionary, emphasizing the horror of a tragic death that is framed like a fascinating murder mystery and gripping courtroom drama.

Oh, what a tangled web we find the Venable family in when they reinforce lies over truth. At the domineering matriarch’s mansion in the affluent Garden District of New Orleans in 1936, brain surgeon Dr. Cukrowicz, aka “Dr. Sugar,” is summoned there to review her niece’s case.

Through her wealth, the bitter Violet hopes to keep Cathy institutionalized and have a lobotomy performed, so that a scandalous family secret won’t be exposed. She has kept her in a private mental asylum since she returned from Europe.

Violet’s cherished son, Sebastian, a closeted gay poet, has been brutally killed while on vacation in Spain, accompanied by his cousin instead of Mommie dearest. The circumstances are unclear, and no one believes Cathy’s horrific account. Locked away against her will, she has been further victimized by her treatment. Now, she can not only reveal the ugly truth but be spared more damage.

Randolph is spellbinding as she recounts the details of a summer holiday at Cabeza de Lobo to those assembled, led by an always stellar Bradley Tejeda as Dr. Sugar, who skillfully guides the proceedings as he gently probes a vulnerable and broken Cathy.

Cathy knows she is being manipulated, and after being injected with a truth serum, weaves a riveting account of being a decoy to attract young boys for the predatory Sebastian’s exploitation. She was used just like they were, but instead of earning sympathy, she’s trying to be suppressed by everyone.

Photo by Suzy Gorman

Dr. Sugar’s not entirely convinced Cathy is insane, but at stake is a large donation to his psychiatric research from Mrs. Venable.

Tejeda, brilliant as Tom in 2021’s outdoor “The Glass Menagerie” and comical as Alvaro in last year’s “The Rose Tattoo,” is cool and calm in a crisp white suit, fully aware of the evil in the Venable’s jungle-garden, where his interrogation takes place.

Lisa Tejero deftly commands the stage as the controlling Mama Bear who makes her late husband’s family feel small in her presence, ready to pounce on those she considers duplicitous and weak. She will do whatever it takes to preserve her son’s legacy, even if it is fiction.

Clad in black and using a cane as a scepter, Tejero displays cunning in all interactions, as well as impatience and aggravation when things don’t go her way. She also conveys selfishness, an appalling lack of civility as a socialite and less-than-gracious hostess.

Cathy’s mother and brother, Mrs. Holly and George, eager to not have anything interfere with the $100,000 inheritance bequeathed by Sebastian in his will, are trying not to act anxious, but their true colors emerge. Rengin Altay as the fretful in-law, and Harrison Farmer, as her ambitious son, comfortably service Williams’ script in these stock characters.

In other supporting roles are Bethany Barr as Violet’s accommodating assistant Miss Foxhill, and Ieshah Edwards as the not-so-compassionate Sister Felicity.

Of course, Williams would name characters Venable and Felicity, as he mines his life for a sad exploration of horrible human behavior.

Photo by Suzy Gorman

The production team has enhanced the Southern gothic moods, with captivating lighting design by Matthew McCarthy, evocative set design by James Wolk, and polished period costume design by Dottie Marshall Englis. Henry Palkes’ original music score, this third for TWSTL, adds so much texture to these productions.

What is missing in Williams’ play is the protagonist, and it is up to the cast to flesh out Sebastian, and all his contradictions, through the filters of his mother and cousin. The actors conjure up graphic images through their ability to craft a portrait through language.

Many of Williams’ tortured soul characters face moral dilemmas, either as prey or predator, to survive in an unforgiving world. Randolph’s unnerving portrait of a victim shatters the norms, which is what Williams so often does.

While her performance leaves a lasting impression, that’s not the only memorable aspect. The nuance and craft have left their mark on this eighth annual festival, which continually surprises with new ways and different angles to Williams’ storytelling.

The Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis presents “Suddenly Last Summer” Sept. 7 – 17, with Thursday through Saturday performances at 7:30 p.m. and Sunday matinees at 3 p.m. in the Catherine B. Berges Theatre at COCA, University City. For more information, visit www.twstl.org

Photos by Suzy Gorman

Bradley Tejeda by Suzy Gorman