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REVIEW: TENNESSEE RISING AT THE CELL THEATER
Over the weekend, I saw my first performance outside in the charming garden of Nancy Manocherian’s Cell Theater on 23rd Street in Manhattan. A wonderfully intimate environment surrounded by an assortment of townhouse gardens where birds sweetly chirp and trees grow out of available open spots in the dirt. It is the perfect place to see Jacob Storms act with brief interjections of city noises peppering his late, great Tennessee Williams performance in his very superbly detailed one-person show Tennessee Rising, which covers the period between 1939-1945 when the playwright is rising to fame. While it was a peaceful(no fire engines)pleasant watch, I am surprised to say the director needed to further inspire Mr. Storms's performance. I am bewildered that a genius like Alan Cumming would not more thoroughly trace the lines required to bring out the eccentricities and pearls of appeal written in the script with more pointed articulation.
The very able 41-page play written by Mr. Storms is straightforward in delight, sadness, and regret. Yet from the start, the weaknesses supplanted the words. The music was too loud in the beginning to hear Mr. Storms, who spoke quietly, sometimes dropping the end of his sentences, thus the audience could not hear him finish his thoughts. Tennessee Williams was a big drinker. He always had a bottle nearby, though there was a glass made to…
