If the name “Kowalski” automatically signals a certain brutish character in an iconic play, then you’re in for quite a treat. And if the name doesn’t ring a proverbial bell, you’re still in for a fine-tuned production in Kowalski. Gregg Ostrin’s play concerns a single night when Marlon Brando met Tennessee Williams for the first time as the legendary playwright was seeking to cast the pivotal role of Stanley Kowalski in A Streetcar Named Desire. It was a rocky encounter that almost derailed as the two titans of the stage sparred relentlessly before they could even agree to hold an audition.
Kowalski begins with a framing device. Williams is doing a TV interview in 1977. He’s 66 years old and well past his prime after years of profligate living, booze and drugs. He’s asked about Brando who’s now quite the superstar; and rather reluctantly, Williams recounts that fateful evening 30 years earlier. For the next 80 minutes, the story is revealed in flashback.
It’s 1947. Fresh off Williams’ breakthrough masterpiece The Glass Menagerie, he is the toast of Broadway. But as he nervously prepares to mount his next production, he’s “suffering from the catastrophe of success” as he puts it. He desperately wants film star John Garfield to play the role of Stanley Kowalski but his director Elia Kazan has another actor in mind. At the age of 23, Marlon Brando had already made a mark in small roles; and theater insiders had taken notice. And so Kazan gave the young actor bus fare to meet the famed playwright at his Provincetown beach house in Cape Cod. That was three days ago and Brando never showed up.
Williams was gay, and at the time he was living with a Mexican man named Pancho who was young, handsome, and too cocky for his own good. But Williams kept him around and even named the house “Rancho Pancho.” On this particular night, Williams has given Margo Jones, a close friend and director, the Streetcar script and she loves it. But Williams disappoints her when he reveals that she won’t be directing the play. Unhappy with the decision, she follows Pancho to a nearby bar.
Soon after, Brando suddenly appears at the house, acting as if he owns the place. It’s off-putting and Williams instantly takes a dislike to the arrogant man. As for his lateness, Brando explains that he kept the bus money for food and hitch-hiked from New York to the Cape. And just as Williams is fed up with him, an unusual thing happens. The lights go out in the house and Brando offers to fix the electrical problems. And when he learns that the toilet doesn’t work, he fixes that too. It buys him time as the two match passive/aggressive wits with each other.
Both Robin Lord Taylor as Williams and Brandon Flynn as Brando are sublime in the roles. Taylor channels Williams’ courtly southern airs and Flynn convincingly evokes Brando’s roguish swagger complete with the star’s tendency to mumble, though Flynn stops short of doing an obvious impersonation.
The acting is first rate all around. Very special mention to Ellie Ricker as Jo, Brando’s girlfriend, who pops up suddenly after Brando made her wait for him in the bus depot. As a starstruck fan of Williams, she’s a welcome counterpoint, bringing much needed light to the gloom of the dueling thespians; and she’s a joy to watch.
It’s clear that Ostrin did his homework. He gets Williams’ voice, mirroring his truth-seeking lyricism and drawling speech with lines like “I am the patron saint of unrequited love” and his description of Brando “rising like a greasy phoenix from the highway.” And fans get a thrill when he has Brando scream “Jo….” to his abandoning girlfriend, reminiscent of the beseeching “Stella” line in Streetcar.
Much of what is rendered on stage is true. Brando really did perform handyman duties at the house and he did hitchhike there along with his girlfriend. Of course liberties were taken but they seem very much in character.
Colin Hanlon’s direction is especially deft, making sure the star combatants are equally matched while allowing the natural humor of their hubristic exchanges to shine through. He utilizes David Gallo’s run-down setting and Jeff Croiter’s lights to strong effect.
Kowalski presents us with a fascinating glimpse of two of the theater’s most celebrated icons. But even if A Streetcar Named Desire is unfamiliar to you, Kowalski still resonates as rewarding drama in its own right. This story about two great artists with giant egos, daddy issues and a hatred of critics has universal appeal. And at 85 minutes, considering that we never do get to see that audition, it will leave you wanting more.
Kowalski opened January 27, 2025, at The Duke on 42nd Street and runs through February 23. Tickets and information: KowalskiOnStage.com
