Theater: Lillian Hellman’s The Little Foxes crackles

Lillian Hellman (1905-1984) has always fallen just short of the reverence accorded to O’Neill, Williams, and Miller among twentieth century American playwrights. Her career was complicated by well-publicized spats with critics, then McCarthy era blacklisting resulting from her Communist Party membership in the 1930’s. Yet she became a fervent anti-Nazi, even when Stalin was in league with Hitler. She was also accused of falsifying her story in the supposed autobiographical memoir Pentimento (later made into the hit film Julia). Despite all this personal ambiguity, she created very well-crafted plays that, while lacked the Freudian probing of O’Neill and Williams, fearlessly tackled the moral issues of her time. The Children’s Hour (1934) chillingly foresees McCarthyism, as two teachers are accused of a lesbian affair by a young student, and Toys in the Attic (1960) addresses incest and transracial love.

The Little Foxes (1939) is an intense, rapidly paced drama about the financial scheming of three Alabama Hubbard siblings at the turn of the twentieth century. Their amoral efforts to turn a deal with a Yankee manufacturer show little regard for legality, loyalty to their family members (and each other), to the still-dependent black ex-slaves of their region, or even to the ecological concerns of the pristine rural landscape. In the chilling ending (which prompted murmurs from the New York audience) one of the amoral brothers, having been blackmailed out of his share of the investment by his sister, cynically says we should all get used to this sort of thing, as the USA will be dominated by such business behavior in the future. How true. Hellman’s message was doubtless guided by her Communist ideology, a refuge for many intellectuals appalled by the depredations of capitalist excess in twentieth century America. This play remains one of the best critiques of this system.

The three 45 minute acts, separated by quick 10 minute intermissions, flew by and built up wonderful tension; each act ended with a dramatic “cliffhanger” feel that felt genuine, not manipulative. I could not anticipate the cynical ending; Hellman’s craft reminded me how this “edge of your seat” feel is lacking in most contemporary plays, which often try to make a socio-political points without much attention to building traditional dramatic intensity. True, Hellman does not probe the psyches of these characters as would O’Neill or Williams, but there is more than one way to write a great play, and this is one. She studiously avoids Williams’ fantasy, Miller’s preachiness and melodrama, and O’Neill’s abstraction, so her plays have a realistic, gripping edge that amply substitutes for their lack of modernistic analysis.

This production was notable for the “gimmick” of two well-known actresses alternating in the roles of the scheming Regina Gibbons and the wounded, faded southern belle Birdie Hubbard, the only Hubbard exempt from the amoral wheeling and dealing. Regina is a big, mean, virtuosic role played by such actresses as Tallulah Bankhead, Bette Davis, Elizabeth Taylor, and Anne Bancroft. In Friday’s performance Cynthia Nixon (Sex and the City, above left) played her with vicious intensity. Laura Linney played the fragile Birdie (imagine if The Glass Menagerie’s Amanda Wingfield became older and depressed). Her performance was perhaps a bit too monochromatic…there is some edge there (she is a Hubbard, after all), and I would have enjoyed seeing what Nixon did with it on alternate evenings. Reviews indicated that the play is equally good, but quite different, when these actresses switch roles. Richard Thomas (TV’s John Boy Walton) was wonderful as Regina’s dying husband—their interactions pretty much defined a dysfunctional marriage. I liked the way Thomas relied on our expectation of him as the cloyingly good John Boy Walton to hide his own ruthlessness below the surface--typecasting can be used against the audience! The casting and direction (Daniel Sullivan) were spot-on, and made for a compelling night at the theater. This made me want to see more of Lillian Hellman, and revealed that, when well-acted and directed, her works are every bit the dramatic equal of her more performed male counterparts.