A recollection of a family in quiet crisis, Tennessee Williams’ “The Glass Menagerie” stirs the heart with its portrait of a man remembering.

Opening at Theatreworks on Friday, it’s often referred to as a “memory play,” a performance where a deluge of dysfunction is narrated by protagonist Tom Wingfield. Tom’s remembering reveals, scene by scene, the years of building hurt and repression. 

The play, which debuted on Broadway in 1945, tells the story of a St. Louis family in the 1930s. There, Tom Wingfield, who is also the narrator, remembers his sister Laura, a fragile shut in and his mother Amanda, who was equal parts monster and protector.

Among Williams’ most emblematic works, it presents a story of deep internal conflict, says Director Anna Brenner, who lives and works in New York City.

“It’s such a wonderful, classic American play.” she says. “A lot of people have connections with the story, with the family. It’s very meaty and exciting.”

Here Brenner talks about her vision for the play, the timelessness of Williams’ work and the power the work has had on audiences.

The Gazette: Is there anything particularly unique about doing a Tennessee Williams play? Anything that forces you to consider a different approach to direction?

Anna Brenner: In conceiving how our production will stand out, we take into account people’s expectations. There are the occasional concerns that it will feel dusty and boring and we want it fresh and vibrant and accessible to today’s audience. That’s not, however, to say we’ve radically changed it. My fear here is that I don’t want to destroy something that’s considered a classic. I take some responsibility for that and talk to the actors about it, too. Everyone has their preconceived ideas for the characters, but it’s also important that the actors find the characters themselves.

Gazette: What are some of the timeless elements that you feel must be included to capture his signature style?

Brenner: I think part of what he was going for was really depicting these characters who were really human. They’re unique. They’re outside of normal. I think he does that through most of his plays, He’s interested in looking at the Outsider. That’s something people in theater are looking to explore. So, no matter what we do, we want to hold on to that idea. We want to create human, contradictory characters that we can all relate to. And you feel that contradiction in the play. They’re in conflict, but they’re also full of a real love for each other. They show you by how much they do to try and understand each other. Human, tragic flaws: they’re elements in the play that you can’t ignore.

Gazette: Can you describe why this is referred to as a “memory play?” What kind of expectation does that set for the audience?

Brenner: The play begins with Tom, the son, remembering his family and the home that he left. He’s feeling guilt about it, because he knows that living the life he wanted to live meant escape. The whole play is about him trying to come to terms with his guilt — the remorse that he has that he left them — but it still depicts the tricky situation he was in. He wasn’t a free man. The memories haunt him the rest of his life.

Gazette: You’ve talked about this play having the potential to “wake us up.” What does that mean?

Brenner: Part of what I love about theater and sharing these stories is that you hope the audience relates to it, that they take something away from it. You want to craft something that gives them perspective or helps to shape their thinking. I hope this play helps us see our own character flaws and forces us have compassion for ourselves and for others.I don’t want anyone to beat themselves up, but maybe in some way, it brings about understanding for the personal struggles of others. It’s not always so obvious. We need to consider the nuances of our trials.

Gazette: How do you and the actors accomplish that?

Brenner: Something I find pretty amazing is that this is the kind of play where everyone can connect because they have a story from their lives that says, “This reminds me of such and such, or so and so.” It happens over and over again. The Wingfields really are, and can be, almost any family. The smothering mother, the rebellious son who wants to make his own way, the timid daughter. These characters are people that we can all find ourselves in. And if, as directors, as actors and cast, if we do our job right, the audience will themselves.

Ryan Reilly and Jane Fromme in the TheatreWorks’ production of the Tennessee Williams’ classic. Photo by

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