A newspaper lying on the sofa reads, 'Franco Triumphs'. It is 1938, the time of the Great Depression, the rise of Fascism and an imminent Second World War. In the midst of these turbulent times, an 'ageing Southern belle', Amanda Wingfield, abandoned by her husband, persuades her rebellious son, Tom, to find a 'gentleman caller' for her crippled and painfully shy daughter, Laura, only to find that her dreams are shattered by the harsh realities of her circumstances.

The strength of this play lies mainly in its characters, who are multi-faceted, often contradictory, and flawed in many ways, but whose appeal lies in their humanness. Like many directors before him, Tom Littler sets out to challenge some pre-conceived notions about these characters, and succeeds in avoiding typecasting.

For example, actress Elisabeth Gray (an immensely likeable Amanda) conveys to us most convincingly the complexities of a seemingly oppressive and ambitious mother who is, at heart, motivated by genuine love and concern for her children.

A conscious effort has also been made to turn the play's 'present-day' narrator, Tom (played by Neil Gatland), into a more active facilitator of its events. As a puppeteer manipulates his creations, so we see Tom physically moulding Amanda and Laura into his own representations of their characters. This takes to another level the notion of a 'memory play', where reality is as much constructed through the narrator's self-confessed nostalgia as it is 'real'.

Present-day Tom's uncomfortable awareness of having followed in his father's murky footsteps is reflected in the delivery of his monologues. However, I found something jarring in Gatland's performance; aloof disdain turned into something more stilted and awkward - perhaps it was difficulties with the Southern accent, or maybe just first-night nervousness in front of an audience (some of whom were clearly chortling away at some in-joke). This was mirrored by an occasional lack of tightness and focus in the play as a whole, with a lot of physical movement on and off stage that, at times, may have left the audience wondering exactly where to focus their attention.

More convincing were Gatland's dialogues with the other characters, including Tom's sister, Laura (played by Lily Sykes). Sykes' Laura is pale and tremulous. Lit, as requested by the playwright, with a 'peculiar pristine clarity' that lends her a somewhat ethereal quality, she is arguably the character who develops the most in this play. At pivotal moments during the play - for example, the scene where she allows Jim, her 'gentleman caller', into her private world of glass animals and equally fragile hopes and dreams - Laura displays intelligence, wit and humour, along with a quiet inner strength and resilience that gain the audience's empathy and respect. This scene, with Philip Contos' wonderfully charismatic Jim, contains some of the best moments in the play. At the end, however, Laura's final beseeching sob leaves her appearing broken and empty, and slightly more pitiful than a stronger interpretation of her character might have allowed.

The play's music was beautiful and appropriately haunting; the humour and irony inherent in the script were also brought out skilfully in the play, and clearly appreciated by the audience. Overall, this was an intelligent and sensitive production, which promises to become more fluid with each performance.

Suchita Shah, March 2004