It seems when particular playwrights (Arthur Miller, Neil Simon, William Inge, Eugene O’Neill, Tennessee Williams) become well established and familiar, when we’ve lived with their work, and seen it in repertory and films, it’s easy to forget how challenging they can be. After seeing Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Streetcar Named Desire, Glass Menagerie and Night of The Iguana on numerous occasions, I’ve found few flawless productions, or even consistent casting. Some of this is, of course, beyond the control of any production, whether they cherry-pick performers or hold auditions. Tennessee Williams can be very tempting, though he may seem verbose compared to current authors, his theatre is sumptuous and bright, with rich feeling for the music of language. The depth of experience.
Night of the Iguana is a favorite for many. Though not as successful (I’m guessing) as Menagerie, Cat and Streetcar, it’s quirky and somber and overflowing with the strange colors of lives that have taken an abrupt, dark turn. Iguana pivots on the convergence of three broken characters. Maxine who runs a three-star, casual resort in Mexico, the Reverend Larry Shannon, a minister managing a tour bus of Baptist ladies, and Hannah, who travels extensively with grandfather “Nonna”, a blind poet of some renown. Shannon is not, accurately speaking, defrocked, but effectively banished from his congregation. Maxine is just this side of destitute. Still processing the recent death of her husband; though estranged, they shared a strong devotion. Hannah seems resigned to a life of drumming up business, sketching and painting tourists, while granddad recites verse from memory. All three are on the verge of disaster, improvising as best they can.
Iguana doesn’t have a great deal of physical action. Some convivial German tourists hobnob here and there. There’s a prolonged battle between Shannon and Judith Fellows, chaperon foe Charlotte Goodall, an attractive teenage girl. Fellows is determined to report Shannon for statutory rape, after his night of indiscretion with Charlotte. Williams doesn’t condone Shannon’s behavior, though he implies that Fellows’ motives might not be altogether pure. There’s a lot of ruminating by all three characters. Shannon’s caught up in an ongoing tirade, against religious hypocrisy and the whimsical nature of divine intervention. The content seems to be a deep dive into the nature of disappointment. Only Williams could create fierce drama from this hodgepodge of chaos and grief, rage and resignation. For the performers it can’t be easy to navigate.
I’ve never attended a show at MainStage that wasn’t 100% vigilant and engaged, and Night of the Iguana was no exception. In the vast ocean of this difficult script, they seemed to searching for the best route. A purposeful hold on the material. There are powerful moments. Hannah pleading for the trapped iguanas. Maxine describing the dissolution of her marriage to Fred, quiet but excruciating. Shannon recounting the details of his transgressions, before his exile from the church. There is an intense fusion of irony and regret that fuels Shannon’s alienation (not easy to ascertain or nail) churning at the eye of this hurricane. Kudos to the cast and crew, for their dedication and bravery.
MainStage Irving – Las Colinas presents: The Night of the Iguana playing March 15th-30th, 2019. Irving Arts Center. Dupree Theater: 3333 North MacArthur Bld, Irving, Texas 75062. 972.252.2787 www.tickets.irvingartscenter.com/online.
