Cynthia Nixon and Laura Linney as Birdie
Take your choice or take them both now that Laura Linney and
Cynthia Nixon are playing the old bait and switch game (well, not quite) in the
very fine Manhattan Theatre Club revival of Lillian Hellman’s “The Little Foxes.
”
It always amazes me how certain principal characters in
classic plays sometimes drift from their positions of dramatic power depending
on how the role is being played and by whom. It isn't that Shakespeare's Hamlet
or Tennessee Williams' Blanche (in “A
Streetcar Named Desire”) lose their top spot as the primary dramatic
catalysts in their respective plays, it's just that the sheer force and imprint
of the interpretation by an actor in a secondary role can shift our attention
and empathy from what has been formerly seen as the play's center of gravity.
Not the first time two prominent stars switched and/or alternated
roles while appearing in the same production. Under the sturdy direction of
Daniel Sullivan, Hellman’s 1939 play is now offering really different perspectives
to audiences, most of whom are rarely given the opportunity to taste and
compare. Having seen both leading actors take on the two principal and
supporting female roles, I have strong feelings as to which one has the shifted
the balance of power more specifically to meet the demands of the play. I expect
that Linney and Nixon will invite comparison but that only invites more
discussion on the inherent merits or even social veracity of the play. That’s
good.
For those familiar with the Hubbards, that infamously greedy, selfish, corrupt,
ethically-challenged Southern family— it is Regina Giddens who traditionally
demands our most undivided consideration as she determinedly proceeds to secure
her share of the family's impending fortunes from her ruthless brothers. Regina
demands the intensity of a dramatic dominatrix. Linney (“Time Stands Still,” “Les
Liaisons Dangereuses, ”) fills that demand with a imposingly venomous front and
a blinding charm. Tony award-winner Nixon (“Rabbit Hole”) who is best known for
her role in the TV series “Sex and the City” is more subtle/subdued and cautious
in exposing Regina’s underhanded treachery. Not exactly a draw, but wait.
Melodramatic at its core, we are drawn into the play's
relentless drive as Regina takes on her sneaky-to-a-fault brothers Oscar (Darren
Goldstein) and Benjamin (Michael McKean) as they attempt full control of the
construction of a cotton mill. To this end, she will do anything, including
virtually affect the demise of her morally upright banker husband Horace (a
terrific Richard Thomas). As the middle-aged Regina, both Linney and Nixon delivers the dramatic goods with
verve, but it was Linney’s bite that was the decidedly more lethal. Tallulah
Bankhead famously originated the role of Regina Giddens on Broadway in 1940.
Bette Davis played Regina in the 1941 film version. Subsequent Broadway Reginas
have been Anne Bancroft (1967), Elizabeth Taylor (1981, and Stockard Channing
(1997).
It was rare indeed, for a woman to be an industrial mover
and shaker in 1900 when the play is set and certainly not in the South. But
what is it about the almost stealthily devised but unforeseeable shift we make
from Regina's machinations to the plight of her sister-in-law Birdie Oscar's
wife? It happens early and it remains a constant throughout the play. It isn't
just that Birdie, born of gentry whose family plantation is now owned by the
Hubbards.
Why is the belittled Birdie, who Oscar says “chatters like a
magpie” suddenly the pulse and the prevailing heartbeat of this otherwise
brilliantly callous portrait of a ruthless family? She is undeniably a figure
of pity and needs our sympathy. She is ridiculed, belittled and physically mistreated
by Oscar. Look to a heart-breaking brilliance from Nixon as Birdie who serves
as the play's wellspring of emotional pain.
While Linney is affecting and could this splendid actress
not be, it is Nixon who casts upon her character the more luminous reflection
of embattled gentility. Nixon may, indeed, be the best Birdie in my memory.
Birdie discloses some personal well-kept secrets to Regina's yet-unspoiled
daughter Alexandra (Francesca Carpanini) and to the house maid Addie (Caroline
Stefanie Clay). Alexandra presumably becomes the unexpected heartbeat/representative
of the playwright herself in Act III.
Evans as the maid and Charles Turner, who plays the Giddens' man-servant, are
terrific and bring a concerted and carefully delineated sub-text to their
supporting roles that might otherwise not demand more than our passing
interest: remembering the adage that there are no small parts only small actors.
As for the brothers, Goldstein is splendid as the viciously condescending Oscar
as is McKean as the more insidious conspiring Ben. Michael Benz neatly filled
the shoes of Oscar's irretrievably stupid son Leo. Both Linney and Nixon filled
costume designer Jane Greenwood’s period-perfect gowns to perfection.
As designed by Scott Pask, the Giddens' Greek Revival residence deserves
consideration with its obligatory staircase, hidden dining area and Victorian
furnishings. The play's title is derived from the King James version of the Song
of Solomon ("Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines:
for our vines have tender grapes"). It remains a gripping reminder that
there is a price to pay for the recycling of greed and the ravaging of our
humanity as we enter another century.
"The Little Foxes" ends its limited run on June 18.
