“Streetcar” desire
I was on the plane flying to New York in mid December when I read it. “I don’t expect to see a better performance of this role in my lifetime.” John Lahr wrote that in his review of Tennessee Williams' “A Streetcar Named Desire” in The New Yorker magazine. He was talking about Cate Blanchett as Blanche DuBois in the Sydney Theatre Company production at the Brooklyn Academy. If John Lahr, the son of The Cowardly Lion, Bert, says something like this, you listen.
This I had to see.
I wouldn't be jealous. I was well over the terrible production I'd seen in London during the time I had lived there. Its shortfalls had given me the pluck to learn the part when I moved to New York and use it to audition for Nikos Psacharopoulis at Williamstown. That's how I got into the company! Oh right and there's the time I actually landed the part in summer stock in 1985 but unfortunately was pregnant and due to fill out considerably in the two months before the job started, then actually deliver the baby. I was in the perfect emotional state just not the correct physical state!
I was over all that competition stuff. Cate Blanchett had my attention.
But how could I get a ticket?
Checked the website. SOLD OUT.
Went to Broadway Box where you can usually get anything you need “discounted” to a couple of hundred dollars. No.
Finally called the actual Box Office. They had a returns line two hours before the show.
Deciding to shoot for the Wednesday matinee, I caught the subway to Brooklyn at 10 am.on a particularly frigid morning. A lady was sitting on the sunny pavement outside the theatre absorbed in a book when I arrived at about 10:30. It seemed impolite to disturb her. There were ten silent, bundled figures ahead of her. The line.
Three and a half hours to go.
I made cell phone calls for a little while.
Then a car pulled up and a lady took the spot behind me. When her companion arrived they asked if I wanted coffee. Beth Ann and Patrick and I talked for the next three hours.
We adored Cate Blanchett in Shekhar Kapur's film “Elizabeth.” It simply outstripped all modern plays and tv movies for defining the treachery of those times. Then “Notes on a Scandal” with Judi Dench.They had seen Cate Blanchett and Liv Ulman, the director, on the Charlie Rose show. That's why they were in line for tickets. Liv Ulman had apparently focused on Blanche rather than the character of Stanley for this production. Who in their right mind would focus on the character of Stanley? Unless, of course, you had one of those big name tv or film actresses playing Blanche and as the director you were knew you were sunk if at least one of the characters didn't come up with an amazing performance. So you had turned your lights onto the decent, until recently practically unknown guy playing Stanley.
My friends Beth Ann and Patrick were firefighters. They were married and had five children. They had traveled with all the five children to Australia but hadn't stayed long enough to really enjoy such a huge country. Just two weeks.
As firefighters they had gotten to know men and women in many stations throughout the city and five boroughs by filling in when people needed leave. The days spent cooking together and gabbing in the stations bonded them. They always knew someone on a crew.
Just then a fire engine pulled up. Yes, Patrick knew one of the guys. They were inspecting the building to see if a pool could be constructed on stage for an upcoming play.
Could they get us into “Streetcar?” Not fair and square.
The box office opened and the first fifteen of us were let into the building. A blessed relief from shivering. My friends made the cut and a few girls after them.
The audience began to arrive. A woman sold a ticket to the first man on line. Many mini dramas ensued. A large crowd of schoolboys from St Regis streamed in. You'd think one or two of their classmates might be sick. A celebrity New York newscaster strode in in very high heeled boots with a very large hairdo. We were moving up in the line.
I considered surrendering my place if two tickets were available when I got there so my new friends could see this masterpiece together.
A call from my husband Geoffrey informed me that our old friend, Pat Scully, was now the General Manager of BAM. What a pity I hadn't let him know I wanted to see the show.
Conspiracies began to hatch. We talked about sneaking in.
Just before the curtain went up, I was first in line. Then the curtain went up.
“Ladies and gentlemen, that's it. There will be no more tickets available. Leave the lobby immediately.”
I made a quick peace with the amount of time I had given to Kate Blanchett's Blanche DuBois. Three and a half hour wait, plus subway travel. Would I have gotten dozy during the performance?
As I headed out the door there was a young woman taking her place for the 7:30 performance returns line. Only five and a half hours to go.
