This weekend, the Victoria College Drama Society put on a production of Tennessee Williams’ Pulitzer Prize–winning play, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. The play revolves around the Mississippi-based Pollitt family: former football player, now alcoholic Brick (Robert Bellissimo) and his wife Maggie (Sarah King), who have a contentious marriage; family patriarch “Big Daddy” Pollitt (Christopher Mastropietro) and “Big Mama” Pollitt (Paige Lancaster), who are both unaware that Big Daddy is dying of cancer; and Brick’s older brother Gooper (Daniel Hermann) and wife Mae (Emily Johnson), who have designs on inheriting Big Daddy’s wealth.
Stage manager Jenna Koening did an admirable job creating a simple yet beautiful set that perfectly evoked the Southern ranch setting of the play. Unfortunately, the rest of the play was not as nearly well arranged, and the production didn’t know what it wanted to be. The faux Southern accents were atrocious—one could easily believe the actors spent so much time trying to pin down the dialect that they forgot all other aspects of their craft. The play lacked strong directorial vision—the pacing was awkward, the acting uneven and the three-hours in the theatre felt more like three days. In my estimation, there was some miscasting as well, and I felt that some of the actors onstage would have been better suited to other roles.
The first act starts with a seemingly interminable monologue from Maggie “the Cat” talking to an off-stage Brick. King’s drawl was passable, but her portrayal of Maggie lacked evenness, and her delivery of otherwise funny lines fell flat. Brick’s terribly accented replies offstage were cringe-worthy, and his appearance onstage did not instil confidence. Bellissimo’s laboured performance was barely tolerable: his accent seemed to be based on Dirty South rap videos with his line delivery falling into rapping at times. His overwrought hobbling onstage was chaotic to watch, and his grimaces were far too exaggerated to be believable.
Appearances from Mae (Emily Johnson) and Big Mama (Paige Lancaster) were a breath of fresh air. Johnson’s acting was truly stellar with no missteps, and any scene with her in it was a high point of the play. Her accent was the most convincing of the cast, and everything about her acting was consistent—from her body language to her tart and impeccable line delivery, she was undoubtedly the standout of the play. Lancaster’s performance as Big Mama received the majority of the laughs—her comic timing and energy were a joy to watch, although they both flagged slightly towards the end. While Patrick Kelly’s role as Reverend Tooker was minor, he exhibited good humour and was able to impart most (though not all) of his lines with enough capability to stand out in the dismal cast.
The second act started off as a confused jumble, which then degenerated into a snore-worthy monologue, this time from Big Daddy (Christopher Mastropietro). Mastropietro’s acting was exceedingly uneven, brilliantly comic at times, and horrifically awkward at others. His movement on stage successfully mimicked that of an older man, but the effect was spoiled when he sprawled out like a frat boy on the furniture. His laughter was forced and wandered into registers normally reached by adolescent boys whose voices are only just breaking. His interaction with Brick, ostensibly that of father and son, came across more like two “bros” hanging out. The sudden pitch changes were not restricted to Mastropietro—it affected a number of the other actors as well, and it seems to have been a side effect of the attempted dialect.
The third act brought more action than the first two, but the clumsy pacing was far more evident as a result. A number of hesitant moments and silences that could have been used to great effect simply felt awkward. Daniel Hermann’s rendition of Gooper was mostly incoherent, King’s voice had become screechy, and Luke McElcheran (playing Doc Baugh) appeared to be delivering his lines to his feet. King did a competent job during the final scene, but it was far too little, far too late. The remaining actors were not onstage long enough to make an impression.
All in all, this was an overly ambitious production that ended up exposing the weaknesses of almost everyone involved. I can’t help feeling that if they had simply ignored the Southern accents, the actors would have been better able to exhibit their talents, and director Laura Delchiaro would have been better able to explore each character’s nuances. As it stands, this was a classic that was butchered at the hands of amateurs.
