Tennessee Williams’ Pulitzer Prize-winning play Cat a Hot Tin Roof is an ambitious undertaking for a small local theater. Its illustrious history includes four Tony Award nominations, including one for Best Play, in 1955; several star-studied revivals; and the classic movie starring Elizabeth Taykor and Paul Newman.
Comparisons are inevitable. The good news is, The Bent’s production does not disappoint.
The play is set at the 28,000-acre family estate of Big Daddy Pollitt (Michael Pacas), a wealthy cotton planter in Mississippi. The family has gathered to celebrate the patriarch’s 65th birthday, but the festivities are overshadowed by the fact that Big Daddy has been diagnosed with terminal cancer—a fact the family is hiding from him.
Big Daddy’s younger son, Brick (Justin McEneny), and his wife, Maggie (Branda Lock), are having troubles of their own. Brick, who’s hobbling around after breaking his ankle foolishly jumping hurdles on his college track field at 3 a.m. the previous day, has a serious drinking problem. He’s wrestling with guilt over the alcohol-related death of his best friend, Skipper, who had romantic feelings for Brick. Whether Brick returned those feelings or ever acted on them is an open question.
Brick is refusing to sleep with his alluring spitfire wife, even though Maggie is doing her best to tempt him. She’s in love with Brick, but—having grown up poor—she’s also desperately trying to hold on to the wealth and status that came with marrying into the Pollitt family. Maggie is restless and antsy, and talks incessantly, in direct contrast to Brick’s brooding silence.
Brick’s mother, Big Mama (Sonia Reavis), flutters around, oozing Southern charm and trying to keep things happy and light, avoiding the dark family drama simmering underneath the surface.
Also on hand is the eldest Pollitt son, corporate lawyer Gooper (Jason Ayestas), who’s spent most of his life in Brick’s shadow. He views himself as the responsible one, and he plots with his wife, Mae (Jessica Lenz), to make sure they get control of the estate when Big Daddy dies.
Mae, hugely pregnant with the couple’s sixth child, is a former debutante still fixated on wealth and social standing. Sweet on the surface, Mae is often conniving and vicious. She competes constantly with Maggie, and taunts her sister-in-law about her sexless marriage to Brick and their failure to produce a child.
The ghost of Skipper (Elijah Olachea) appears periodically, which sends Brick directly to the bar for yet another drink.
For those who have not seen a previous production or the film, questions may swirl: Will Brick and Maggie ever connect sexually and perhaps have a child? Will Brick drink himself to death? Is Big Daddy really on the way out? Who will inherit the estate? Will Gooper and Mae one day add a seventh child (or “no-neck monster,” as Maggie calls them) to their brood? Good drama often does not tie everything up in a neat bow at the end. Debating plot lines on the way home is one of the joys of attending live theater.
Director Terry Ray (also The Bent’s managing director) has assembled a top-notch cast of actors and pulled strong performances out of each of them. The cast is terrific across the board, but special mention must be made of Lock’s performance as Maggie: She’s simply riveting. It can be hard for people who have seen the film to let go of comparisons to Liz Taylor, but Lock makes it easy. She’s fiery, sexy, funny, intense and vulnerable all at the same time. Lock’s performance is unforgettable.
As Brick, McEneny has just the right mix of despair, resignation, grief, conflict and bull-headedness. There’s a lot going on in his head: He’s mourning the loss of his youth and athletic stardom, grieving over the death of Skipper, pushing his wife away and trying to navigate the macabre contest over who may inherit Big Daddy’s land. It’s no wonder he tries to drown it all with booze. There are several long stretches when Brick is silent onstage—simply listening to others rant and rave while he sips his drink. Being really present in these types of scenes is a mark of a terrific actor, and McEneny nails it.
The role of Big Daddy is crucial, and local favorite Pacas is more than up to the task. Physically imposing, Pacas also masterfully conveys Big Daddy’s bluster. He’s loud, crude and blunt, yet we still like him. His 40-year marriage to Big Mama has grown stale, and he does not hide his disdain for her. He finds Gooper and his wife shallow and greedy; he prefers Brick and does his best to connect with him.
The cast is terrific across the board, but special mention must be made of Branda Lock’s performance as Maggie: She’s simply riveting.
Reavis is just right as Big Mama. She skips about in her Southern way, trying to keep things light-hearted even when those about her are engaging in emotional warfare. She doesn’t want to face the truth about her husband’s cancer diagnosis or his lack of love for her. She, too, dotes on Brick and longs for a grandchild from her younger son.
As the always-pregnant Mae, Lenz is perfect. She awkwardly waddles along, herding her five kids (never seen, but heard) around Big Daddy’s estate. Lenz ably balances Mae’s fake graciousness and her bitter competition with Maggie over who’s the better daughter-in-law and who should wind up with the inheritance.
Ayestas is quite good as the less-favored son, Gooper. Puffing on an ever-present cigar, he comes across as a stereotypical sleazy corporate lawyer, always out for a buck. It’s not a large part, but Ayestas makes him memorable.
As Skipper’s ghost, who comes and goes at pivotal moments in the play, Olachea is appropriately eerie, intense and seductive. In two smaller supporting roles, Kai Brothers (Reverend Tooker) and Mark Crowell (Doctor Baugh) hold their own.
The lights, sound, costumes and set (especially considering that The Bent was not allowed to use wood, according to Ray) are all terrific.
Cat On a Hot Tin Roof stood out in 1955 for featuring repressed homosexuality as a major theme on the Broadway stage. Though things are much freer and more open now, but the play’s other themes—marital conflict, destructive family secrets, greed and alcoholism—are timeless.
Go see The Bent’s production of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. It will move you—and make you think.
The Bent’s production of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof will be performed at 7 p.m., Thursday through Saturday; and 2 p.m., Sunday, through Sunday, Oct. 24, at the Palm Springs Cultural Center, at 2300 E. Baristo Road, in Palm Springs. (There is no show on Thursday, Oct. 15.) Tickets are $42, and the running time is 3 hours, with two intermissions. For tickets or more information, visit thebent.org.
