The Alley Theater in Houston has scored the theater coup of
the year by co-producing with England’s Royal National
Theatre the world premiere of a Tennessee Williams play that
has languished unproduced for 50 years. A brutal and upsetting
prison drama, Not About Nightingales packs a three-part
punch: it’s a 1930s style “Living Newspaper” expose of
inhumane prison conditions; it’s an early study of themes
that would emerge full-blown in The Glass Menagerie and
A Streetcar Named Desire; and it’s a powerhouse
dramatic spectacle staged by Trevor Nunn, world-famous for
directing Cats and Les Miserables. Following its
London debut, the production opened last month in Houston for
a four-week run that concluded July 3. Surely that won’t be
the end of Not About Nightingales. Far from being an
academic footnote, it forces us to reconsider what we know
about the St. Louis-born gay poet who helped shape 20th
century American drama.
The legend of Not About
Nightingales will forever be inseparable from the story of
this triumphant first production. While preparing to perform
in a 1989 London production of Orpheus Descending,
Vanessa Redgrave came upon the author’s preface mentioning
an earlier play filled with unprecedented “violence and
horror.” Written in 1938, when Williams was 27, the play was
inspired by newspaper reports of a Pennsylvania prison where
convicts on a hunger strike were locked in a steam-heated cell
called “the Klondike” and four were roasted alive.
Intrigued, Redgrave tracked down a copy from the Williams
estate in 1993, shortly after she’d founded the Moving
Theatre with her brother Corin. In 1996, during the
company’s residency at the Alley Theater, Redgrave persuaded
the Alley to produce Not About Nightingales with Nunn,
who also runs the National Theater.
The play sets the thuggish
warden Boss Whalen (Corin Redgrave) against Butch O’Fallon
(James Black), the cellblock tyrant who terrorizes his fellow
inmates into striking for better food. Prison life is rendered
with a mixture of Hollywood cliches and cringe-inducing
documentary as inmates are beaten, driven mad, and tortured
onstage. At least one of the prisoners is gay, a black pothead
named Queenie (Jude Akuwudike), though the script suggests he
picked up syphilis from Butch and other references convey more
frankness about gay sex in prison than was typical in 1938. A
contrasting love story develops between Boss Whalen’s naive
new secretary Eva (Sherri Parker Lee) and his in-house spy
Canary Jim (Finbar Lynch), who’s despised as a stool pigeon
by his fellow inmates but who uses his compromised position to
break the prison scandal to the world.
Like all but the best of
Williams’ plays, this one gets increasingly melodramatic and
implausible as it goes along, yet there’s such a gigantic
emotional force pushing the play along that at a certain point
it demands total surrender. That the audience does so
willingly is a tribute to Nunn’s relentlessly creative
staging, Richard Hoover’s ingenious gray-metal set, and the
high-level acting by a British-American cast. This show is a
reminder of the value of non-commercial art theaters: too dark
to imagine succeeding on Broadway, it’s nonetheless a
first-rate theatrical experience.
Though Vanessa is nowhere to
be seen, her political consciousness asserts itself by
focusing our attention on prisons (a grotesque “growth
industry” in the 1990s). And she clearly identifies with
Williams, weighing the artist’s responsibility to the ugly
knowledge about the world the daily papers feed us. Of course,
Williams left overt social content behind, but Not About
Nightingales is a fascinating glimpse at the road not
taken.
The Advocate, July 21, 1998
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