Perth Theatre
3 stars
Lillian Hellman’s 1938 play may not be as notorious as her sapphically-inclined debut, The Children’s Hour, but it nevertheless remains a gift for more demonstrative actresses. Bette Davis proved this in the film version, as have Tallulah Bankhead and a host of grand dames since this deep-south pot-boiler of familial corruption first set the template for Dallas and pretty much every other flamboyant soap opera going.
As gold-digging vixen Regina, director Ian Grieve wisely casts Irene Macdougall, who’s carved something of a niche for herself of late playing unhinged American ladies of a certain age in both The Graduate and Tennessee William’ Sweet Bird Of Youth. Here, however, Macdougall is far from alone in her eye-rolling evocation of greed, as Regina is joined by her two brothers Ben and Oscar in the exploitation of her husband Horace to make millions from their already lucrative cotton company.
You can almost see the dollar signs in the eyes of Neil McKinven’s Ben and the predatory, moustache-twirling malevolence of Greg Powrie’s Oscar as the trio fawn over the mill owner in sickly Horace’s absence. Only Horace’s old soak of a sister Birdie and his daughter Alexandra have any goodness left to attempt to thwart the scheme. If Alexandra is initially the kindlier face of the future, her cousin Leo is its far nastier side, epitomised in Ben’s premature victory speech towards the end in a twisted portent of twentieth century capitalism.
If some of the plot twists look clichéd now, the play’s politics are clear enough, and, as Regina slowly climbs the stairs, Alexandra stands alone, her premature bitterness the only true inheritance she has left.
The Herald, February 5th 2007
ends
3 stars
Lillian Hellman’s 1938 play may not be as notorious as her sapphically-inclined debut, The Children’s Hour, but it nevertheless remains a gift for more demonstrative actresses. Bette Davis proved this in the film version, as have Tallulah Bankhead and a host of grand dames since this deep-south pot-boiler of familial corruption first set the template for Dallas and pretty much every other flamboyant soap opera going.
As gold-digging vixen Regina, director Ian Grieve wisely casts Irene Macdougall, who’s carved something of a niche for herself of late playing unhinged American ladies of a certain age in both The Graduate and Tennessee William’ Sweet Bird Of Youth. Here, however, Macdougall is far from alone in her eye-rolling evocation of greed, as Regina is joined by her two brothers Ben and Oscar in the exploitation of her husband Horace to make millions from their already lucrative cotton company.
You can almost see the dollar signs in the eyes of Neil McKinven’s Ben and the predatory, moustache-twirling malevolence of Greg Powrie’s Oscar as the trio fawn over the mill owner in sickly Horace’s absence. Only Horace’s old soak of a sister Birdie and his daughter Alexandra have any goodness left to attempt to thwart the scheme. If Alexandra is initially the kindlier face of the future, her cousin Leo is its far nastier side, epitomised in Ben’s premature victory speech towards the end in a twisted portent of twentieth century capitalism.
If some of the plot twists look clichéd now, the play’s politics are clear enough, and, as Regina slowly climbs the stairs, Alexandra stands alone, her premature bitterness the only true inheritance she has left.
The Herald, February 5th 2007
ends
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