In the Mad Cow Theatre
production of Lillian Hellman’s “Little Foxes,” greed is very, very good, writes Matthew J. Palm.
Siblings squabble over the family business. Blackmail isn’t out of the question. Neither is robbery — r even giving the Grim Reaper a hand. The twists and turns of “The Little Foxes,” onstage at Mad Cow Theatre, could fuel an entire season of TV’s “Empire” — or back in the day, the likes of “Dynasty” and “Dallas.”
But director Tony Simotes knows the campy fun of TV soap opera was not what playwright Lillian Hellman had in mind with her 1939 dark look at greed.
Simotes has assembled a powerhouse cast of actors — and then carefully ensured there’s no scenery chewing where it easily could occur. Instead, the performers reveal their characters’ deformed souls with a chilling naturalness.
And Simotes also carefully inserts moments of levity, never forcing a laugh but giving the audience a chance to break the tension and chuckle at the horror show that is the Hubbard family.
The three adult siblings of the Alabama clan are eager to close a deal that will bring a cotton mill to their town — and make them very wealthy. The money they already have was made by taking advantage of uneducated freed slaves: it’s in the early years of the 20th century. The period is important because it means the play’s female characters — like goodhearted Alexandra, fragile Birdie and driven Regina — have few options.
Regina, married to a sickly man she doesn’t love and harboring a lifetime of resentment that her two brothers inherited daddy’s money, is the throbbing heartbeat of the tale. Ame Livingston expertly captures Regina’s bitterness-fueled drive — even her posture says she means business. She exquisitely cajoles traces of sympathy for this woman’s lot in life from the audience — and then promptly stomps them out.
As one of her brothers, Bob Brandenberg pontificates and blusters — even as you see his brain working out what’s best for him. Courtney Bahr is heartbreaking as poor Birdie, while Anneliese Moon lights up the stage as Alexandra finds her voice. Roberta Emerson makes a strong impression as a down-to-earth domestic who speaks her mind.
But really, the entire cast seamlessly creates the sort of characters and relationships that make little moments captivate — the way a sinking Birdie descends into a very low chair, clutching her elderberry wine, or a well-delivered “Huh?” from Zachary Lane, when his callous young character hears talk of marrying him off.
If you want to see parallels to the pitfalls of modern capitalism in the story — putting profit ahead of people and society — you certainly can. What you’ll definitely see at “The Little Foxes” is top-grade theater.