Streetcar Named Desire
Blanche DuBois is the fragile heart of Tennessee Williams’ 1947 masterpiece A Streetcar Named Desire and the easiest character in the Western canon to do an impression of. Chuck on some pearls, a white debutante-like fit and throw back a whiskey before you try your hand at a Southern drawl and you’ve got her, or at least some of her. If a classic, as the Italian writer Italo Calvino once defined, is a text that ‘has never finished saying what it has to say’ then Williams’ DuBois says more eighty years on with a string of pearls and a Mississippi accent than most of our classics ever could. Such is the enduring power of Williams’ poetic realism, and the reason why this superficial revival from Melbourne Theatre Company feels so frustrating: for all the expectations or stereotypes we might have going in, the best productions and performances of this theatrical classic will rise above them all. A few sterling performances and technically impressive design cannot erase the fact that this production simply doesn’t know what William’s classic isn’t finished telling us. Nikki Shiels is our Blanche, entering with a cat-like elegance in a long sheer dress and her iconic mop of curls. She truly is one of our best, commanding the stage with an ease and charisma few could replicate. Impressive vocal acrobatics (and an equally impressive Mississippi accent) show her signalling the complex play of insecurity and entitlement that defines Blanche with quick movements between her crystallin