Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is a fabulous play for many different reasons: amazing monologues, intense subject matter, dynamic characters, and a very controlled environment that does not change as the play moves forward in time. In classic Williams style, Cat has no real scene breaks. All the action in this show takes place across three acts but there are not gaps in time, nor is there any change in location in order to tell the story. This play is a lesson in controlled story telling. There is only one set, time moves forward in a linear fashion, and the characters struggle to work out the question posited by Margaret in the first ten minutes of the play: Was there more to Brick’s relationship with Skipper than mere friendship?
I have always admired the craftsmanship exhibited in this play, but I love it all the more now as I read this newly discovered version of the work that includes a forward and an afterward by Williams. In these two author’s notes, Williams discusses the nature of a playwright’s struggle as he works to move a play from page to stage. I find it particularly enlightening that his experience is very similar to the struggle that many of us go through with directors as we work to stage a show. Williams was fortunate enough to be working with Elia Kazan, and the show was being produced on Broadway… but the playwrights experience is a universal one due to where our work starts and stops. Williams had a great respect for Kazan’s work, and as with any director Kazan offered notes on the original version of the script. His suggestions included notes on character arch, plot devices, how the play should end, and where the characters should be when the curtain falls.
It is so overwhelming to know that someone like Tennessee Williams, a man who is renowned for his writing ability and style, should be questioned by a director… ANY director. But that having been said, Williams does something that we all should learn: he listened, considered, and ultimately ended up revising the play per the notes given to him by Kazan. The wonderful thing about this version of the play is that it includes both the original ending, and the revised one.
Reading the two versions of act three you can see a dramatic difference in where the characters end up, and how the tone of the play changes because of the revision. Is it changed for the better? I would argue that the answer is probably yes, but I contend the the original version gave us a greater understanding of the man that Brick has become in his "disgust". In the original ending Brick remains the static drunk and his prospects continue to look bleak and unchanged all the way to the curtain. In the revised version we see a more dynamic Margaret, and a Brick who seems to be coming out of his shell a bit, opening up, talking… changing before our eyes.
What I dislike about the revised version, (the version that was eventually staged,) is the transformation that occurs in Brick. Despite all the things that happen in the course of this play, I conclude that there is no real motivation for Brick to "surface" from his alcoholic haze. He continues to drink, he continues to push towards the "click" in his head, and realistically speaking even a functional drunk doesn’t have the mental faculties to demonstrate the type of change we see in Act III from Brick. To my thinking, no amount of poking or prodding from Big Daddy would result in any real revelations from this character. He was forced to face his demons with his father, but he did so with a glass full of whiskey in his hand that he repeatedly filled, drank, and refilled ad nauseum. Brick’s transformation in the revised version of act three struck me as difficult to believe.
That having been said, I think that it is a better play because of other changes. It’s a better play because we understand the possibility that tomorrow now holds for Margaret and Brick. On the whole it was a good revision, but I also would argue that we all strive so much to have our characters follow a development arch that is logical and meaningful to audiences. This makes sense because it allows people to connect with our characters, (which is a good thing if you want to sell tickets.) But I also think that there are times when certain characters should be allowed to remain static and unchanged despite the events that are unfolding about them. This allows us to understand a greater sense of sadness for where this character has ended up, and who they’ve become due to their life experiences.
Brick is definitely one of those characters for me… the original version of Act III made me ache for Brick. In many ways I felt like he was lost, and the lack of any real communication or humanity from him in the final scene of the play made me feel the depth of his grief, and helped me appreciate that he was truly and deeply broken over the loss of his friend.
On the whole I would argue that this is a great play to use as a teaching tool for people interested in understanding the process of making a show more approachable for an audience. The original version of Act III doesn’t let the audience into the lives of the characters nearly as much as the revised version. In that way the show works "better" thanks to the revision. The lesson taken from this reading should be that even great playwrights some times need the help of a talented director to help see their show with new eyes.
In my own experience, during the production of "An Army of One" I had many times where the director, Paul Hough, came back to me and suggested a revision, or restructuring of a specific scene in order to make the play work better on stage. You have to be open to these suggestion as a playwright because there are many times when the words simply don’t translate effectively to the stage. I am very grateful that in my first production experience I had the opportunity to work with such a talented and patient director, who was interested in working with me. We all should be so lucky as to work with someone like Paul Hough.
It is a fine line to walk when you’re considering revising your work based on notes from a director. You can’t allow the work to run away from you, and give the director carte blanche to do with the script what he will. But I think the lesson I learned in my production experience, and from the pages of this wonderful play, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, is that no one is infallible—not even Tennessee Williams.
Check out this edition of the play to see both versions of the third act:
ISBN: 0-451-17112-8
Amazon: Buy It