Lookingglass Theatre’s “Kowalski,” with Johnny Galecki and Jacob Moskovitz/Photo: Emil Cohen
There are various kinds of deception at work in Gregg Ostrin’s “Kowalski,” an account of the fateful first meeting between Tennessee Williams and Marlon Brando, in which the young and unknown Brando auditioned for the part of Stanley Kowalski in the theatrical premiere of “A Streetcar Named Desire.” Within this generally absorbing, well-acted drama—dynamically directed by Colin Hanlon and featuring a star-turn performance by “Big Bang Theory” cast member Johnny Galecki as Williams—playwright and actor play an intriguing if somewhat contrived game of manipulation and oneupmanship with each other, in which motifs from “Streetcar” become entangled with what passes for reality to these two brilliant, driven, wounded men. Neither scruples to exploit friends or lovers, as each tests the other to see whether he might be useful in the anything-goes quest for showbiz success. The play captures the world of high-pressure art-making, with its sometimes deleterious effects on personal relationships, ethical values and sense of identity.
The production also raises some questions about the identity of Lookingglass Theatre, which houses it. Based on the evidence of this show, the organization seems to have quietly segued from an ensemble-based producing company to a rental space—a disquieting development that I will explore later.
But first, the play itself, which on its own melodramatic terms is a success, full of laughs and gasps and pointed repartee. After a brief and unnecessary framing scene set thirty years later, we arrive at Williams’ cottage in Provincetown, Massachusetts, which he shares with his surly, rough-mannered lover, Pancho (Reece dos Santos). The real-time story of the audition then begins, moving smoothly and surely from beat to beat like a well-tuned machine, efficiently cuing the audience to key dramatic and humorous moments.
Yes, it’s slick and a bit shallow, and has little feel for the period it tries to portray—i.e., 1947, during the crucial transitional period just after World War II and just before the Cold War. In short, it feels conventional and commercial, like the touring show it really is, with not a hint of the audacious theatricality and circus-like energy that Lookingglass is, or at least used to be, known for. But on the night I saw the play, the audience seemed untroubled by these issues, lavishing applause on the cast, especially Galecki.
Lookingglass Theatre’s “Kowalski,” with Johnny Galecki, Alison Cimmet, Ellie Ricker, Jacob Moskovitz/Photo: Michael Brosilow
And he richly deserves it, no doubt about that. Galecki paints an indelible portrait of the artist as a complicated man, laying on thick—as Williams himself did—his Foghorn Leghorn-style Southern gentleman schtick. It was a mask used to cover the demons and insecurities of this semi-openly gay, quasi-alcoholic product of a troubled, déclassé family, who mostly grew up not on the plantation but in industrial St. Louis.
Bearing a striking resemblance to Williams, Galecki gives us both aspects of the character, the overdone gallantry and the calculating, striving poor boy who has made it big and isn’t about to slip back into obscurity. Coming off his 1945 triumph with the delicately crafted “The Glass Menagerie” (“It was all room service after that, baby,” he gloats), the Tennessee Williams we meet is terrified that audiences won’t accept “Streetcar”’s grittier setting, edgy overtones of gender and class conflict, brutish antagonist and shockingly violent climax. Over-aware of outside expectations, yet seeking to “bring the cold, sharp edge of reality to Broadway,” the nervous Williams declares he’s “suffering from the catastrophe of success.” One way the pressure manifests is his difficulty in deciding who should play the key part of Stanley Kowalski.
And that’s when he meets Marlon Brando, who’s three days late for the audition, dressed like a bum, too young for the part as written, not well-spoken and boorish to boot. He’s been recommended by Elia Kazan, the play’s director, chosen by Williams over his old friend Margo Jones (Alison Cimmet), who directed “Glass Menagerie.” Williams’ cavalier rejection of the hurt but forgiving Margo in favor of the better-known Kazan is the first sign of an underlying ruthlessness of character.
Jacob Moskovitz is a mixed bag as Brando. He has the beefcake build that made Brando an instant star in “Streetcar,” wearing his iconic wife beater t-shirt. However, Moskovitz is of boyish aspect, lacking the glowering, saturnine quality that gave Brando’s Stanley his touch of macho menace. Also, it sounds funny to say that he doesn’t mumble clearly, but that is the case here. What Moskovitz does convey well is that he’s not exactly playing Brando himself, but rather Brando playing his idea of Stanley Kowalski in a life-meets-art audition that pushes Method-style emotional realism to its gonzo extreme.
Johnny Galecki, Jacob Moskovitz in Lookingglass Theatre’s “Kowalski”/Photo: Michael Brosilow
The first act is setup. The second, after the entrance of Brando’s girlfriend Jo (played by actress-dancer Ellie Ricker, whose jitterbug scene with Moskovitz is the most relaxed and natural moment in the play), contains the real action. Face-to-face with the Kowalski-like Brando, Williams shifts into full Blanche DuBois mode, all fragile charm and condescension, while Jo becomes a surrogate Stella, a ping-pong ball bouncing between the two stronger personalities vying for her affection. The tension culminates violently; only after embodying his own inner Kowalski can Brando read for the part in front of the author. The rest, of course, is history.
It’s a provocative premise, pointing to the sometimes dangerously thin boundary between art and life, and how the creative impulse is rooted in the deepest and darkest layers of what Yeats called the “foul rag and bone shop of the heart.” But there’s a basic implausibility here: assaulting the director in his own home is not a recommended audition technique. Also, the play makes it impossible to ascertain if Jo, who at certain points seems to be responding in a scripted way to her boyfriend, is in on his game, or has an agenda of her own. And what should we make of the fact that Brando’s crude abusiveness gets him what he wants—that even the most outrageous behavior is acceptable in the name of art, and that the rules don’t apply to stars? I ended up not so much rooting for Brando as wishing he would get his comeuppance. But that would require a third act, which doesn’t exist, meaning the play never achieves reconciliation and closure.
“Kowalski” is billed as a Lookingglass production, but a glance at the program reveals that the show has been moved pretty much lock, stock and barrel from its New York debut presentation, which ran for three weeks in early 2025. The two actresses reprise their parts, while the three male performers are all New York-based. (Galecki, who grew up in Oak Park, is the only principal with local roots.) David Gallo, who designed the dollhouse-cute set, was involved in the New York version, as were the show’s costume, lighting and sound designers. Director Hanlon helmed the off-Broadway production. Even the original stage manager was helicoptered in from New York.
None of this is likely to impinge on anyone’s enjoyment of the show, and it certainly doesn’t diminish Galecki’s achievement in the lead role. There’s much here to relish, especially for those with an interest in theater history and the personalities behind the productions.
But it does seem a bit fishy to this writer that Lookingglass Theatre, which years ago became the beneficiary of the ultimate sweetheart deal—essentially free use of a handsome city-owned property in the heart of the Magnificent Mile—seems to have downshifted from an actively producing, ensemble-based theater company to a mere presenting organization. Every theater has to worry about filling seats, of course, and this show will likely do just that. Still, there’s something galling in the thought of a nonprofit group renting out a highly subsidized, taxpayer-supported space in order to stage a visiting play with commercial aspirations that employs almost no local talent and has zero connection to Lookingglass’ own ensemble, history or soul.
It’s no secret that Lookingglass, which won the 2011 Tony Award for outstanding regional theater, has not had an easy time of it these past few years. But this show makes one wonder if Lookingglass remains a regional theater at all or has turned into just another Midwestern outpost and tryout spot for touring shows. How sad it would be to see this once-proud company become a shell of its former self. I sincerely hope that “Kowalski” is just a one-time misstep by a storied theater troupe that still enjoys widespread popular support and that, if it chooses to, could continue to play an important role in the long-running drama of Chicago art and culture.
Lookingglass Theatre Company’s “Kowalski” is on stage at the Water Tower Water Works, 163 East Pearson, through October 25. Tickets and more here.
