The Birth of a Legend and the Weight of Legacy
In 1947, the theater world was on the brink of a seismic shift. A young, relatively unknown actor named Marlon Brando stood in a rooftop rehearsal space on West 42nd Street, nervously uttering the iconic role of Stanley Kowalski in Tennessee Williams’ groundbreaking play, A Streetcar Named Desire. Brando, just 23 at the time, was plagued by self-doubt, muttering, “John Garfield should be doing this part, not me.” Unbeknownst to him, his raw, visceral portrayal of the brooding, sexually magnetic Stanley would not only catapult him to stardom but also redefine American acting forever. Brando’s performance, captured in the 1951 film adaptation directed by Elia Kazan, would cast a long shadow over every actor who dared to step into Stanley’s shoes thereafter.
A Play Haunted by Ghosts of Performances Past
Few works are as deeply intertwined with the legacy of their original cast as A Streetcar Named Desire. Brando’s iconic performance looms large, but he’s not the only ghost who haunts this play. Vivien Leigh’s Blanche DuBois in the film adaptation is equally unforgettable, described by critic Pauline Kael as a performance that evokes “pity and terror.” The play’s history is a tapestry of legendary actors who have brought its characters to life, each leaving their mark in ways both celebrated and scrutinized. From Jessica Tandy’s original Blanche to later interpretations by the likes of Glenn Close, Cate Blanchett, and Rachel Weisz, the roles of Stanley and Blanche have become a rite of passage for actors willing to take on their complexity.
A New Stanley Emerges: Paul Mescal Takes the Stage
In 2023, a new production of Streetcar arrived at the Brooklyn Academy of Music, directed by Rebecca Frecknall. Paul Mescal, the actor who became an international heartthrob after his role in the TV adaptation of Sally Rooney’s Normal People, stepped into the iconic T-shirt of Stanley Kowalski. Initial doubts about his casting—Was he too young, too slender, too sensitive to play the brutish Stanley?—were quickly silenced when the production opened in London. Critics praised Mescal’s performance, with Andrzej Lukowski of Time Out summing it up: “He’s good! Actually very good. (Also: stacked.)” Patsy Ferran, a last-minute substitution as Blanche, also earned acclaim for her portrayal of the fragile, delusional southern belle. While not all reviews were glowing—Jesse Green of The New York Times was less impressed with the production’s Brooklyn run—Mescal’s Stanley proved to be a bold, compelling interpretation of the role.
The Elusive Balance: Blanche and Stanley Through the Years
Over the decades, Streetcar has seen a parade of actors take on its two central roles. The play’s success hinges on the delicate balance between Blanche and Stanley, a balance that requires both erotic chemistry and a sense of unpredictability. This balance is no easy feat, as evidenced by the varied results of past productions. In 1973, Faye Dunaway brought a glamour and humor to Blanche, while Jon Voight’s underplayed Stanley was met with lukewarm reception. In 1988, Blythe Danner’s Blanche veered into “fey eccentricity,” and Aidan Quinn’s Stanley failed to spark. The 1992 production fared better, with Alec Baldwin delivering a Stanley so compelling that critics forgot all about Brando, while Jessica Lange’s Blanche was criticized for emotional timidity.
More recent productions have continued to grapple with the challenges of the play. In 2016, Gillian Anderson and Ben Foster starred in a stark, modernized Streetcar that stripped the play of its poetry but emphasized its proto-feminist undertones. Anderson’s Blanche was a “self-preserving” southern belle with a dwindling edge, while Foster’s Stanley was the embodiment of working-class bravado, channeling the spirit of a Trump supporter. The success of these interpretations lies in their ability to reimagine the play without losing its core emotional power.
A Tragedy of Misunderstandings: The Timeless Appeal of Streetcar
At its heart, A Streetcar Named Desire is a tragedy of misunderstandings, a clash of opposing worlds represented by its two central characters. Blanche, the fragile, fluttering fantasist, and Stanley, the harsh, pragmatic realist, are locked in a battle of wills that is both deeply personal and universally relatable. Over the years, actors have approached these roles with varying degrees of success, but the play’s enduring power lies in its ability to confront the messy complexities of human nature. Whether it’s the primal intensity of Brando’s Stanley or the heartbreaking fragility of Vivien Leigh’s Blanche, each performance becomes a piece of the play’s ever-evolving legacy.
As the most recent production with Paul Mescal and Patsy Ferran reminds us, Streetcar continues to captivate audiences with its raw emotion and unflinching examination of human frailty. It is a play that demands courage and vulnerability from its actors, and in return, it offers them the chance to leave their mark on two of the most iconic roles in theater history. As the curtain rises on yet another revival, the question remains: who will be the next to step into the shadows of Brando and Leigh, and how will they make these roles their own?
