Glass Menagerie, The

Set in St. Louis on the eve of World War II, The Glass Menagerie is a family tale of hope, despair and deception. Mississippi transplant Amanda lives with her two adult children in a modest apartment with shabby furnishings -- a far cry from how she hoped to end up. Her husband abandoned them years before to turn Amanda into a single mother, a status that commanded none of the respect but all of the drawbacks that we have with us sixty years later. Son Tom, who doubles as narrator in the play, works in a warehouse for a piddling salary. He dreams of a writing career, but his primary goal is to escape his mother's nagging.

Daughter Laura is slightly crippled and has mostly retreated inside a make-believe world with her glass animals. When not rehashing the past, Amanda dreams of Tom getting a worthy job, but even more she would like to marry off Laura. The pressure is on when Tom invites a long-awaited "gentleman caller" to dinner in the guise of amiable work buddy Jim O'Connor. Amanda flirts with him as though he were her possible beau, and then leaves him alone with Laura under candlelight when their electricity is cut off for bill nonpayment. When Laura realizes that this Jim is her high school idol, she unfreezes for a moment and then invites him to share her fantasy existence. Momentarily entranced, Jim confesses he will soon marry and makes a hasty exit to meet his fiance. Amanda and Laura are once again abandoned when Tom takes off just like his father had, but to sail the high seas with the Merchant Marine.

In contrast to much of today's theater, The Glass Menagerie (1945) is dense with societal references and information about the characters' lives. Author Tennessee Williams presents the four with less contempt than he employed in later works, but his message about the hypocrisy of Southern manners is unmistakable. He also seems to make an analogy between the deception practiced during the just-ended Roosevelt era and the Wingfield family. Laura's lameness and Amanda's clinging to her DAR chapter have their parallels in how the President's infirmity was cleverly disguised from the American public and in the famous Marian Anderson /DAR incident. By resisting the temptation to present caricatures, director Marjorie Ballentine and cast make the ending all the more devastating.

Ballentine's strict adherence to realism provides the perfect foil for the characters' nurturing unreality. (Too bad the audience at this performance did not appreciate her subtle treatment of Williams' pervasive humor.) Even better than William F. Moser's superbly-designed period set and furniture are his apt costumes, ranging from the men's summer suits toAmanda's party dress and Laura's shoes. Hui Cox's score underlines the more sentimental moments; Jason Livingston's lighting generally follows a realistic schema except for two excursions into a pink or blue fantasy.

Patricia McAneny ideally captures Amanda's mercurial nature; as the pivotal character she masterfully plays the reality/fantasy oscillation with precision. Another fine performer is George Macalusa, who revels in Jim's Dale-Carnegie approach to life and makes his character's hubris likeable. While Sara Jenkins is physically expressive, she should use vocal delivery to complete her characterization of Laura rather than a peculiarly strangled voice production. Gently accentuating Laura's limp when Jim first shows interest in her is a nice touch. Charles Sprinkle resorts to yelling to establish Tom's irascible nature, but otherwise there is insufficient motivation for his departure at the end. Tom's artistic side goes mostly unexplored. Overall, though, Overall this is an outstanding production that deserves a longer run.