A Streetcar Named Desire at the Young Vic

I am still a shameless X-files fan, Scully was the FBI agent that every girl wanted to be and every guy wanted to be with. So, seeing Gillian Anderson play such a powerful role and being 5-10 metres away from me at any given time, made me a little bit weak at the knees.

One of Tennessee Williams' most famous plays, A Streetcar Named Desire is on at the Young Vic until 19th September. It is an emotionally intense stage performance of three characters, Blanche DuBois (Gillian Anderson), Stella (Vanessa Kirby) and Stanley Kowalski (Ben Foster) set in the seedy underbelly of downtown New Orleans.

This play questions the motives for violence and lust to the extent that you cannot take sides. It scrapes the surface of mental illness and screams 'uncomfortable' to us. There is a constant contrast between the systematic undressing of Blanche, her vulnerable and sexually charged human form and the hard, strong lines of the revolving stage, the metal posts, the corners of the bed and the bath tub, even the iron stairs which squarely ascend to the upper level of the theatre.

Every character is tragic in this play but Blanche is the most misunderstood, doomed as soon as she wheels her suitcase to the front door. I think every woman has a little bit of Blanche in her, those moments when the world cannot provide the love and attention we so desperately need, the constant clawing of reality and the existence of ourselves as an ideal, flawless and untouchable individual. Blanche is our extreme. I think it is our intense relationship with Blanche that causes us to desperately despise her. She is a needy and selfish character, self-absorbed to the extent that she cannot accept herself as part of the disappointing world that surrounds her.

Taken from Tate online. Ref: T01794

I forgot how incredibly sad this story is and I found myself close to tears at the end when Blanche (Gillian Anderson) was paraded around the revolving stage, looking at the sky of a world she did not recognise. This last scene reminded me of a print by William Hogarth, Plate 8 of A Rake's Progress. This series of prints depicts an eighteenth-century rake who loves money, fame and glamour. He spends everything, goes mad and ends up in Bedlam, Bethlem Royal Hospital in London. In the eighteenth century Bedlam would charge a small fee to visitors wanting to come and look at the patients, it would be a day out, a chance to judge and gawp at those deemed insane. In Plate 8 of A Rake's Progress we can see two well dressed women to the right, an example of these visitors. They snigger and cling to each other, disgusted yet pleased with what they see. As an audience at the Young Vic we were these women, gawping and judging the vulnerable character before us, trying to understand what caused Blanche's mania but really just pleased to be able to walk out of the theatre after three hours and back into our normal lives.
 
This play has effected me. It has infected me with the memory of that last scene. The cast were faultless and the performance was excellent.

I am now even more in awe of Gillian Anderson...I think it's time to re-watch the X-files!