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Saturday 20 September 2014

A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE REVIEW


NT Live performances are always a nightmare for my attention span. There's something about theatre that makes you so aware of the people around you - the little shuffling noises they make, or their laughter or their muttered remarks to each other - and with NT Live screenings, despite the fact you're in a cinema environment, you're still thrust into a state of hyper-vigilance. You see the crowd's faces alongside those those of the actors; they're a little like a sitcom laugh track, their gasps and laughs nudging you towards an appropriate emotional response. They're almost a chorus. And sometimes they're annoying and distracting, like the chap whose face kept looming into view during 'Two Gentleman of Verona' last month, wearing a tiny smug grin, like some kind of overenthusiastic extra.

The Young Vic's 'Streetcar' pushes and pushes this sticky, rather uncomfortable awareness of your own role as spectator. Blanche, Stanley and Stella do not remain safely sequestered behind a proscenium arch, but stride about in a house that is, for all intents and purposes, all windows. We are the neighbours, the observers, the unwanted visitors; our remarks about the action feel like nothing other than gossip. And the rotating set means that, despite everything, our view and comprehension is never quite total. A wall or pillar will cut across a character's face mid-sentence, meaning we miss out on a crucial expression, or a room will spin completely away before we understand fully what is happening within it.

This is exacerbated by the fact that, obviously, NT Live screenings necessarily have a camera as a mediator. While the theatre audience are limited by the angle their assigned seat gives them on the production, those of us watching in the cinema rely on the camera to give us the best view possible. While it typically focuses on the most important action while also giving us context - lovely big wide shots that kind of make the apartment look like a Sims house - there were moments when I really wanted to see something other than what the camera was showing. During closer shots, there were lots of times when those metal industrial-looking pillars would block the view almost entirely (although they'd swing out of the way a few seconds later). At first irritating, eventually I understood that this was something they wanted to happen.

There's a bizarre contrast between the metaphysical awareness of the unreal theatre space and the dazzling, hyper-real quality of the acting. Despite having seen and really, properly adored Gillian Anderson in lots of other pieces of media, I never thought of her as anyone other than Blanche during the show. Ben Foster's Stanley was amazing, too; there was this real sense of earnestness to his performance. And Stella, played by Vanessa Kirby, was sweet and bright and a good straight-man role, balancing Blanche and Stanley out perfectly. It was constantly difficult to watch the action of the play with characters that felt so real. The ending left me horrified and shaken, like I'd just seen something that would be written about in Guardian thinkpieces for the whole week to come - this very real injustice that makes you think Shouldn't someone do something about this?, while knowing that you are the people that watched it happen.

The production itself was tight and professional. I particularly liked the scene transitions, with blaring rock music playing while characters scurried around their tiny apartment stage. The only thing that I wasn't completely sold on was the move from said rock music to a sort of melodramatic, warped music-box tune in the last few transitions. It felt a bit tired, like the smudged make-up on Blanche's face - women's madness as prettiness gone awry. Otherwise, it felt consistently original and creative.

I love the idea of NT Live (even if it's a little bit pricier than watching a normal film) - it's always frustrating to read all the buzz about a play that would be impossible for most people to see. With the set-up of a presenter talking before the production begins and then during the interval, it feels pretty eventful, too, compared to a normal cinema trip - like you're wanted, somehow. And I'm still thinking about 'A Streetcar Named Desire', about this drama that feels like it took place next door, one that you witnessed and judged and felt horrible walking away from.


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