Kowalski

Brandon Flynn.
    
 
   

Brandon Flynn and Robin Lord Taylor. (Photo credit: Russ Rowland)

By: Darryl Reilly

“You really are the strangest young man I’ve ever met. I think you should audition.” So, says 36-year-old Tennessee Williams to 23-year-old Marlon Brando in playwright Gregg Ostrin’s smart, enchanting and moving fantasia, Kowalski. Alcohol and conversation flow, as these two legends and the real-life incident which brought them together are dramatized.

It is the summer of 1947; John Garfield has rejected the role of Stanley Kowalski in the upcoming premiere of A Streetcar Named Desire. Director Elia Kazan was impressed by the unknown Brando’s most recent Broadway stage appearance. With few other options, out of necessity and on gut instinct Kazan sends Brando with notification, on a bus from Manhattan to Williams’ beach house in Provincetown, Massachusetts, to read for him. Three days of waiting for Brando have passed with he and his Mexican American boyfriend Pancho bickering, and Williams pontificating with his good friend, theater impresario Margo Jones. Brando dramatically arrives one night when Williams is alone: Let me make something clear. You can be late for Thornton Wilder. You can be late for Bill Inge. You can even be late for Arthur Miller. But you cannot be late for me. Also, it’s written for someone in his 30s. He is pugnacious. You look like you walked out of a Greek temple. You should be wearing a toga.

Robin Lord Taylor and Brandon Flynn. (Photo credit: Russ Rowland)

Mr. Ostrin’s crafty dialogue is laden with well researched biographical details and inside show business facts, exposition is smoothly imparted, and the 80-minute play is cleverly, and breezily structured as a memory piece. It opens and closes with Williams in his 60’s being interviewed on television; “You’re much better looking than Dick Cavett.” This is representative of Ostrin’s knack for presenting authentic depictions of these figures whom theater devotees know so well.

Brandon Flynn. (Photo credit: Russ Rowland)

Employing a distinctive, Steve Buscemi-style speech pattern, while swaggering about in a lustrous gray T-shirt and sleek dark trousers, the lean and youthful Brandon Flynn offers a vocally, and visually dazzling characterization of Marlon Brando. The animated Mr. Flynn vividly conveys Brando’s charisma, idealism and cunning. Brando’s renowned sensuality is demonstrated by the magnetic Flynn during a delirious dance with his girlfriend, and when bluntly, sexually offering himself up to Williams: You want to dance? Let’s dance. How do you want me to audition? On my knees? Up against the wall? How about we go to the men’s room at the bus station? Bet you’d like that! All dirty and filthy. That the way you like it with Pancho?

Robin Lord Taylor. (Photo credit: Russ Rowland)

Kowalski soars due to Brandon Flynn as Brando and Robin Lord Taylor as Tennessee Williams; their clear emotional and physical rapport is integral. Echoing, but not imitating Williams’ boozy drawl, the mustached Mr. Taylor, achieves a rich and accurate recreation through also ambling about and gesticulating. Taylor hilariously, yet meaningfully channels Williams’ Southern queen persona with matter-of-fact relish: You throw that typewriter and you are out of here, you got me? I will erase you from my life as if you were some drunken trick I stumbled over in the Quarter after a three day bender! You will cease to exist in the canon of my memory!

Alison Cimmet. (Photo credit: Russ Rowland)

Formidable Alison Cimmet veers from delightfully wry, to steely and to melancholy, as Margo Jones. Ms. Cimmet’s captivating performance and Ostrin’s fine writing yield a worthy, and welcome portrait of this American regional theater visionary whose mainstream directorial career was stymied by sexism; she accidentally died in 1955 at the age of 43.

Ellie Ricker. (Photo credit: Russ Rowland)

Dressed in post W.W. II-era bohemian attire of black slacks and a black and white striped top, the lithe and vivacious Ellie Ricker gives a warm, bubbly and imapctful portrayal of Brando’s latest girlfriend, Jo. Ms. Ricker is particularly poignant when he is harsh about her acting talent.

Sebastian Treviño. (Photo credit: Russ Rowland)

As Pancho, Williams’ good-natured lover, the alluring Sebastian Treviño emits charm and humor, and is an ideal, down to earth foil for the celebrated playwright’s inebriated grandiosity. Mr. Treviño palpably conveys attachment to Williams, while lustfully going off to a local tavern with the aim of picking up a sailor.

Director Colin Hanlon’s robust staging has the actors ideally positioned for pictorial effect, while emphasizing their relationships. Mr. Hanlon in concert with movement director Nancy Renee Braun also crafts blazing dance and physical sequences. Scenic designer David Gallo’s spatially striking beach house has a living room, kitchen and a hallway, set with vintage furnishings and artworks. Completing this entrancing sight are side areas outside the house with sand and foliage. Jeff Croiter’s shimmering lighting design beautifully conjures up a look of the past, and mesmerizing blackouts punctuate scene transitions. Bill Toles’ sound design renders music and effects with flair. Lisa Zinni’s admirable costume design clothes each actor with period detail and panache.

Kowalski is an intelligent entertainment, joyously steeped in history.

Kowalski (through February 23, 2025)
The Duke on 42nd Street, 229 West 42nd Street, in Manhattan
For tickets, visit www.kowalskionstage.com
Running time: 80 minutes with no intermission


    
 
   

1 comment

  1. Your review was absolutely spot-on!! We saw the performance this afternoon and enjoyed it immensely. congrats to entire cast and crew. The house staff was also excellent and very helpful. A++++++

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