Amy Adams in the film “Glass Manager”: a theater review

Amy Adams appears in a rare setting, appearing for the first time in London as Amanda Wingfield, the dominating Bodhisattva womb of Tennessee Williams’ semi-autobiographical memoir. it’s a glass menu. It might seem like the character fits perfectly for the many Oscar-nominated Adams who often dominate the fertile zone between stupidity, weakness and darkness. And yet, while he delivers a terribly fascinating piece in the West End revival of Jeremy Herrin, he surprisingly fails to find any boundaries.

It is difficult to judge whether this is a symptom or a cause of low production; In all respects, the game is a delicate thing that often goes far beyond the best of them. On the positive side, the low power of the marquee star makes the night a more expressive ensemble affair that is always delicately involved and through which an actor breaks a brief degree of pathos.

On the brink of global recession, Williams’ Depression-era fairy tale barely disintegrates and the son torments himself with a job he hates, as the family’s only livelihood is more than a haunted ring. Vicky Mortimer’s apartment project in St. Louis, which is barely tidy, reflects poverty: the central scene of an empty table, the clutter at the ends (several chairs, a player, an old piano), the single-color glass display case containing lonely young and shiny animals It’s the a woman’s hobby and the only source of pleasure.

It’s a domestic drama scene that centers on former Southern beauty Amanda’s decision to see her lonely and painfully shy daughter Laura (Lizzie Anis) married and secure a certain future while her son Tom works in a warehouse and dreams of being a . . A writer who looks at an angry grunt and runs away.

The work’s depth comes less from the script than from its narrative, from the memory of an older tribe, or from the invention of “Truth Under the Pleasant Disguise of Illusion.” Directed by Herrin, who made an excellent staging all my children In 2019, at the Old Vic, where a fabulously volatile performance by another Hollywood royal family, Sally Field, took place, this element responds to a seemingly obvious but little-used device: the role of two actors in Tom. Paulo Hilton (Heritage) is a senior and unreliable narrator, Tom Glynn-Carn (meboran) Young firefighter.

It’s quite effective and offers a tangible image of what Tom has become: a brash, poorly dressed boy who regretted leaving his family for life, which is engraved on his poster; Although he never abandons the writer’s eloquent phrases, does this alcohol wet the edges of his production? This volume looks at the edges of its own story, observes, even observes actions, rather than simply telling them, sometimes even offering props to other characters: the phone, the mirror. When young Tom promises his mother he will never drink, the older version sinks into his arms.

Glynn-Carney is absolutely compelling as a young man who “boils on the inside”, bringing the necessary energy to the case, with a hygienic laugh that gives us a glimpse into how a character can go off the rails. The tribal scenes of mother’s anger, frustration with studied patience, are a link to the truth about them.

But while Adams has a good relationship with Glynn-Carney and a loving sense of humor for Amanda, especially when she relives her outfit in the days of her supposed glory, when she gets a record number of “gentlemen calling,” she doesn’t. rebuke the passive. The aggressiveness that, of course, is part of the character’s toolbox, or the indisputable pain of years before her husband’s defection, which has so often been alluded to. And the southern beauty’s look is so typified it’s almost non-existent. It feels like a watered-down version of what a character can be.

As the novelty of the dual tribe wears off, production must find its strength elsewhere. Despite Victor Ali’s convincing performance as Jimmy, who relishes the hard line between kindness and pomp, as a possible suitor for the tribe’s sister, Herrin’s decision to play his longtime aunt glows from the candles threatens to snuff out the drama altogether. But he is saved, and more, by Ani.

With her professional debut, Anis has already delivered Laura’s emotional insecurity, mixed with a kind of stubbornness that comes to life on its own, with its own entertainment. Now, with Jimmy’s uncomfortable cruelty, heartbroken, he drops to his stomach, a painful smile on his face as his mother screams in her own frustration. This is positively heartbreaking.

Of particular note is Ash Woodward’s video design, which captures the back wall of the stage with expansive, distorted silhouettes, sepia photos, and complete abstractions to add a fairytale feel conveyed by memory and regret.

Location: Duke of York Theatre, London
Cast: Amy Adams, Paul Hilton, Tom Glynn-Carney, Lizzie Anis, Victor Ali
Playwright: Tennessee Williams
Director: Jeremy Herrin
Decorator: Vicki Mortimer
Costume Designer: Edward K. Gibbon
Lighting designer: Paule Constable
Video designer: Ash J Woodward
Music and sound designer: Nick Powell
Presented by Second Half Productions