“Sissy Goforth’s not ready to go forth yet and won’t go forth till she’s ready,” says the character of that name towards the end of the second half of Tennessee Williams’ rarely performed The Milk Train Doesn’t Stop Here Anymore. The line pretty much sums up the plot. The venal and decaying Flora Goforth (a hard-working Linda Marlowe) refuses to accept the reality of a terminal illness, fighting to the last against her oncoming demise with the triple weapons of booze, codeine, and a last fling with a lusty young man.
The young man, Christopher Flanders (Sanee Raval) is not quite the handsome hustler that he first appears to be, much to the chagrin of the vain and vapid Goforth. As the old girl’s friend, Connie (a show-stealing Sara Kestelman), delights in telling her, Flanders is known throughout the southern Italian coast as the Angel Of Death, a soubriquet attributed to his mysterious presence at the passing of a number of rich old women. An ambiguously allegorical figure, perhaps representative of Christ, Flanders’ presence at Goforth’s sumptuous Amalfi villa is more spiritual than sensual: to smooth and soother her passing.
None of the central characters have much to redeem them, indeed one gets the feeling that Williams himself dislikes his creations. The vampish figure of Goforth, dictating meaningless and salacious memoirs to her put-upon assistant, Blackie (Lucie Shorthouse) is, in her unwillingness to set aside carnal pleasure and accept the reality of her fate, particularly disagreeable.
Nicolai Hart-Hansen’s bare bone set gives little indication of place, which means most of the heavy lifting comes from the dialogue, quite a lot of which is a tad creaky. You can see why this show rarely gets an outing.
The Charing Cross theatre’s transverse set is always for difficult to work with, but director Robert Chevara’s choice to have most of the action unfold at a 90 degree angle to the audience makes feel stilted. The decision to bring the action up-to-date, complete with ubiquitous smartphones that somehow cannot make international calls without advanced booking, makes little sense.
A missed opportunity.
Director: Robert Chevara
Writer: Tennessee Williams
12 October 2022
Duration: 2 hours 40 mins. One interval.
More Recent Reviews
The King of Hollywood. White Bear Theatre.
Douglas Fairbanks was a groundbreaking figure in early American cinema. Celebrated for his larger-than-life screen presence and athletic prowess, [...]
Gay Pride and No Prejudice. Union Theatre
Queer-inspired reimaginations of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice are a more common species than one might initially imagine. Hollywood [...]
Knife on the Table. Cockpit Theatre.
Knife on the Table, Jonathan Brown’s sober ensemble piece about power struggles, knife violence, and relationships in and around [...]
