The Night of the Iguana is a depressing tale of defrocked Episcopal priest, Reverend T. Lawrence Shannon (Rob Conway). Tennessee Williams' play, set in the steaming tropics of costal Mexico at the outbreak of WWII, began on Broadway in 1961, was made into films in 1964 and 2000, and this year, Joni Mitchell's title song on her album, "Shine," is a thematic and lyrical adaptation.
Watching Shannon deteriorate is interesting in a sadistic way. Conway's interpretation of a nervous breakdown includes an almost panic delivery and physical mannerisms that are unique but work for his character.
Shannon is a tour guide. His current group, a Texas women's church group, is quite unhappy with him. Miss Judith Fellowes (Kirsten Gallon) is the leader of the hateShannon group partly because underage Charlotte Goodall (Kelly Wood) slipped into his hotel room, spent the night and now proclaims her love for him.
Shannon has brought his group to an out-of-the-way inn run by Maxine Faulk (Sarah Ditges). Recently widowed, she is interested only in Shannon's wasted body. She has her own problems, too. A German couple, ecstatic over Hitler's early victories, are totally obnoxious. Fran and Walter Fuhrenkopf are rudely played by Ruth Eigner and Michael Dean Grulli. They are easily disliked.
Another couple staying at the inn are 39-year-old artist Hanna Jelkes (Holly Stephenson) and her 97-year-old poet grandfather, Nonno (the excellent Ed Eigner). They have come to an end of their finances. She is having trouble selling her paintings; he is working on his latest poem.
The Night of the Iguana is Lawrence Shannon's story, so Conway is never off the stage. Throughout the play we get bits and pieces of this sick, sick man. There are so many demons inside his character that it would take more than one play to find them all. The only truly compassionate soul in Shannon's desolate life is Hannah Jelkes. Watching Stephenson and Conway play off each other is very interesting and a good study in contrasts.
The production, alas, even with some fine performances and a couple of nice cameos, is uneven. Accepting Conway's interpretation of a breakdown, which I do, creates a difficult task for those playing opposite him. Only Stephenson balances him. Granted, this is a very difficult play to perform and direct, and OnStage Playhouse took a chance on such a heavy drama. Very few other theatres would dare.
