Alexandra Del Lago (Kim Catrall) & Chance Wayne (Seth Numbrich) in Sweet Bird of Youth, The Old Vic, photo: Manuel Harlan

Kim Cattrall’s Bitter- ‘Sweet Bird of Youth’

If director Marianne Elliot had put on her latest production of Tennessee Williams’ Sweet Bird of Youth during the average British summer, this might have been a very different review. Had the weather been behaving itself, it’s likely that I would have scuttled over to The Old Vic theatre in all of a tiz, with hair in a frizz from a sudden downpour, legs chilly from an optimistic decision not to wear tights and therefore a temperament that was significantly disgruntled. In this case, an overheated melodrama, beginning with Kim Cattrall as an ageing Hollywood star reaching for an oxygen canister, would not have been on the top of my wish list.

But the usual summer washout having gone astray, the neighbouring Southbank was only awash with after-work-drinkers, pop-up bars and holidaymakers. From the glorious weather and hubbub outside, I became engrossed in the equally hedonistic environment of a hotel room in the Deep South, complete with vodka and Moroccan hash. Overheated? Yes, but no more so than the weather.

Sweet Bird of Youth is the story of Alexandra Del Lago (Kim Cattrall), a faded, Hollywood diva. Following the failure of her comeback picture, she flees the paparazzi accompanied by Chance Wayne, a would-be actor and male escort, played by the dashing and exceptionally talented Seth Numbrich. After escaping Hollywood and stopping off in Palm Beach, the pair wind-up in St. Cloud, Wayne’s hometown and the still the home of his childhood sweetheart, Heavenly.

The set is minimalist but effective. All of the first act is set in a room at the Regal Palms Hotel, with the stage taken up by a large bed where the action unfolds. Del Lago and Wayne discuss their hopes, dreams and lost youth. Catrall is convincing as a lover, monster, and caring, maternal figure, excellently capturing both Del Lago’s strength and vulnerability. Sex in the City’s shallow Samantha Jones is nowhere to be seen.

The plot thickens as we head into the second act, moving from the bed to the porch, a location that seems to reoccur in theatre from the Deep South, and into the home of Heavenly’s father, redneck politician Boss Finley (Owen Roe). Despite playing an aged old man with a paunch and a cane, when Roe bellows, “I have power, and that is no illusion,” he sure convinces. Boss is far from pleased to hear the news that Chance Wayne has returned to town and is determined to keep Wayne away from his precious Heavenly, entrusting the task to his son Tom Junior, a moron with a will for violence.

Admittedly, the plot has ridiculous elements, with circumstances and coincidences that are typical of Williams’ overtly dramatic style (think of Blanche DuBois in a Streetcar Named Desire, or Margaret in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof). But in her direction, Marianne Elliot manages to make it all work. She adds unscripted encounters between Del Lago and Heavenly that give the play a dream-like, unearthly quality and unite the pair as victims of time’s cruel hand. Moreover, rather than shying away from the play’s melodrama, she directs the lightning-storm with an all-out intensity and cleverly stages Boss Finley’s speech on segregation by having a television blast his words around the theatre at the same time. The slight echo created gives the whole room an extremely sinister atmosphere.

Sweet Bird of Youth is a ‘busy’ play to say the least, handling multiple themes and concepts, of racial discrimination, hillbillies, hecklers, castration and even gonorrhea, not to mention plenty of twists and turns to keep you guessing right up until the curtain closes. Despite its sombre ending, there are also plenty of laughs to be had, most of which come from the play’s minor characters. Lucy Robinson who plays Boss’s larger than life Mistress, Miss Lucy, and Charles, the Finley’s black servant, are particularly comical.

‘Time is running out’ and gone in a flutter of wings, says protagonist Chance Wayne. If you take one message from Williams’ play, it is that time is overwhelmingly precious. With this is mind, catch the production while you can.

Tennessee Williams’ Sweet Bird of Youth plays at The Old Vic until 31st August 2013. Tickets are £12 for Under 25s.

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