In Glorious Hill, Mississippi, childhood friends Alma Winemiller and Doctor
John Buchanan Jr. reunite after several years apart. Although Alma is an
unassuming and upstanding member of the community and John has a rather
scandalous reputation for gambling and romancing, the pair rekindle a smouldered
flame and are drawn to each other almost instinctually.
Although Summer and Smoke is a delicate and powerful drama, it'd be hard to
argue that this is Tennessee Williams' best play. But that's hardly surprising
considering the other dramatic juggernauts he penned. Summer and Smoke feels
looser and more meandering that its siblings, but nevertheless there's still an
awful lot to enjoy, especially with Rebecca Frecknall's witty and surgically
precise direction to shape the piece into something more sparky and volatile
than the text alone suggests. William's dialogue masterfully captures moods and
moments, and Frecknall's direction shines a spotlight on those moments, flaying
them before the audience's eyes.
The theme of conformity and rejection of societal expectations are common to
many Tennessee Williams plays, but it seldom as heavily signalled than in
Summer and Smoke. John is a doctor and the son of a respected medical
professional, but far from portraying his professionalism outwardly, he is louche
and scruffy, with a hungry look in his eye. Matthew Needham plays his sulking
rage and simmering passion to perfection, as he stalks the stage, slowly but
surely peeling away Alma's ultra-refined and poised exterior. Meanwhile a
revelatory performance sees Patsy Ferran disappear into Alma
Winemiller entirely.
From her first appearance, gasping and suffocating into a microphone centre
stage, surrounded by a septet of pianos, all eyes are on her. Every severe
glance, anxious inhalation and soulless smile is etched out precisely on
Ferran's face as Alma tries her best to reject her urges and conform to expectations.
She's constantly on edge; a product of her mother's unfortunate mental
breakdown several years prior to the events of the play. Forced to grow up too
soon, she's evidently afraid that her carefree youth has passed her by. She's
an elastic band, squeaking and stretching as she resists her wants and desires
in order to maintain control and conform to the expectations put upon her. But
of course, it's only a matter of time before she snaps.
As the direction of the play becomes clearer and the ending becomes more
obvious, the inevitable trajectory of Alma and John becomes almost unbearable
to watch, as their ideals slowly twist inside out. It's evident from the start
that they are too different to ever work as a couple, and yet it's difficult
not to root for Alma's liberation and John's redemption.
Tom Scutt's purposefully threadbare design has the characters confined to
centre stage, for the most part, surrounded by the tinkling ivories of seven
pianos. Undoubtedly a metaphor for the tattling, self-involved inhabitant of
Glorious Hill, the pianos underscore much of the play with a pretty, cloying
tune which fills the air like a saccharine summer haze. It's easy to see why
John and Alma are forced to both extremes in terms of societal convention, when
they are constantly being put on a pedestal and inspected by their neighbours
and peers.
Matthew Needham in Summer and Smoke Photo credit - Marc Brenner |
The suffocating atmosphere of small-town Mississippi is conjured perfectly
in this stifling, completely engrossing production. Gorgeous design, attentive
direction and a pair of incredible lead performances transform this
lesser performed Williams play into a glimmering gem!
I was invited to review Summer and Smoke thanks to seatplan.com