Night of the Iguana
REPTILIAN DRAMA `NIGHT OF THE IGUANA’ TOPS SCALES
Chicago Tribune; Chicago, Ill.; Mar 15, 1994; Richard Christiansen, Tribune Chief Critic. Goodman Theatre’s triumphant production of “The Night of the Iguana” fully justifies director Robert Falls’ conviction that this 1962 drama by Tennessee Williams is indeed a masterpiece. (And if it isn’t, this production absolutely makes you believe that it is.)
Lasting 3 1/4 hours, and not a moment of that time frivolously spent, this “Iguana” is a beautifully modulated, exquisitely enacted presentation in which two marvelous actors give ringing voice to a torrent of Williams’ most poetic and most compassionate dialogue.
Hannah Jelkes, the New England spinster traveling with her ancient grandfather, and Rev. T. Lawrence Shannon, a disgraced minister sunk to leading cheap bus tours in Mexico, are the play’s two restless, lonely souls.
Coming together from their separate painful journeys at a seedy beach hotel run by a lusty widow who already has seen Shannon through one nervous breakdown, they meet at a point of desperation in both their lives and for one rare evening in their troubled existence share a brief time of communication and comfort and peace.
Much of the play, as the 1964 film version with Richard Burton reminded us, is invested with Williams’ sharp, biting humor. Falls’ staging, his first at Goodman in two years, gives full rein to that mocking and sometimes raucous joking, but he parcels it out very carefully, using it as a contrast to set up the quiet, intense segments that, in the play’s remarkable third act, reach a glorious climax in a long, intense scene of understanding and communion, spoken almost in whispers, as Hannah and Shannon reach out toward each other.
In a drama filled with symbolic contrasts, Hannah and Shannon are the two great contrasting characters: he so filled with maddening anguish and lack of faith that he is violently shaking under the weight of his burden, and she so resolute in her own struggle to conquer the dark shadows of her life that she is an eerily calm and saintly presence.
Cherry Jones, as Hannah, and William Petersen, as Shannon, have been perfectly cast for their roles, and they use every bit of their unique personal auras and particular acting resources to the maximum here.
Jones, tall, patrician and speaking with a melodious Bryn Mawr strain, is the living embodiment of the “thin-standing-up-female Buddha,” as Shannon calls her. Petersen, haggard, haunted and railing against the heavens in a Southern accent, flings himself into the tortures of Shannon with his inimitable fiery force and, startlingly, with an almost feminine delicacy too.
Everyone else in the play, even the vital Cynthia Baker as the bawdy, bosomy widow with whom Shannon seeks refuge, serves as support for these two characters; but the support is superb and, again, it is perfectly cast. This applies as well to the four gross German tourists who wander in and out of the action (set in the autumn of 1940, a bleak and ominous time in World War II) as it does to Lawrence McCauley’s poignant portrayal of Hannah’s “97-year-young” grandfather, a great minor poet who gives the play its final, moving requiem.
Every detail of the production, from the use of incidental music by that most Christian composer, Johann Sebastian Bach, to the fierce thunderstorm whipped up for the end of the second act, has been impeccably selected and worked out.
Designer Loy Arcenas’ scenery, a veranda set amid an abundant tropical forest, and James F. Ingalls’ subtle lighting further add to the completely realized strength and beauty of this production.
This is a work of theater that honors Williams in a way we expect from an institution of Goodman’s stature, with a full-out blaze of talent illuminating every aspect of the drama.
NIGHT OF THE IGUANA – Reverend Shannon Goodman Theatre in Chicago and the Roundabout Theatre in New York
ILLNESS SIDELINES WILLIAM PETERSEN Chicago Tribune ; Chicago, Ill.; Apr 8, 1994; Richard Christiansen.
Swollen vocal cords and bronchitis have forced William Petersen out of his leading role for three sold-out performances in the closing week of “The Night of the Iguana” at Goodman Theatre.
Petersen missed Wednesday night’s presentation of the three-hour Tennessee Williams drama and, on doctor’s advice, he canceled his appearances for Thursday night and the upcoming Saturday matinee, with his understudy, L.D. Barrett, taking over for him. Petersen does hope to be on stage Friday and Saturday nights and for the final Sunday matinee.
