The Little Foxes

The Pittsburgh Public Theater is offering a new look at an admired classic in its current staging of Lillian Hellman's The Little Foxes (to 12/13). This exceptionally well-cast production goes after the human in retelling Ms. Hellman's timeless tale of greed and folly, laying bare the social and psychological underpinnings of the Old South around 1900. Played with the veneer of melodrama and backbone of naturalism, this fast-paced, snappy production never flags, and always entertains.

Directed with verisimilitude by Ted Pappas, who honors the script and not the preceding larger than life legends of the stage (Tallulah Bankhead) and silver screen (Bette Davis) - who rendered it essentially a one-woman show - PPT's The Little Foxes gives flesh and blood believability not only to Regina (Helena Ruoti) but to the rest of her avaricious clan and hapless kith and kin.

Scheming brothers Ben (Ross Bickell) and Oscar Hubbard (John Shepard) in league with their married sister Regina Hubbard Giddens have set up what seems to be an airtight deal with Chicago investor William Marshall (Philip Winters) to get financial backing for a manufacturing plant to mill their cotton. They'll control with 51 % of the stock; Marshall as the silent, but very interested partner will get the biggest individual rake of 49 %. This is a transitional period in American history: a generation or so since the Civil War and the North plowed through their land and the carpetbaggers picked the bones of the Old South, and the Hubbards want their share. Along the way we'll find out they co-opted the estate of Oscar's wife Birdie (Deirdre Madigan). There's a fly in the ointment though: Regina's husband Horace (Michael McKenzie) - who's expected to kick in a third of the cash on their end - is ill and away and seemingly dawdling in Baltimore. There's trouble on the Giddens home front which looks to queer the deal.

Ms. Ruoti gives an assured and nuanced portrayal of Helena in the early going. You can feel her pain as she winces through the small talk of her flat-footed brothers and wastrel nephew Leo (Chris Landis) and the meandering solecisms of the addled but well intentioned Birdie. It's almost a lark as she charms the pants off of the absentee landlord Marshall played by courtly Mr. Philips, then strong-arms a larger share "for her husband" from her siblings, essentially two horse traders, one who always wins (Ben), the other who always loses (Oscar). She ups her emotional register an octave or two, however, when her husband finally arrives. Played with steely determination by Mr. McKenzie, this choice to match Regina against a spouse who is in steadfast opposition to her will - she typically steamrolls over a feckless Horace in other productions - makes the conflict riveting and opens up her vulnerabilities. You may not like Regina - as Ms. Ruoti peels her back, she grows increasingly monstrous - but you'll understand her.

While the play's central theme and title - the little foxes (from the Song of Solomon) snatch the grapes and spoil the vine - concern the exploitation of the land and the people, they also pose a key question: just how much money is enough? Everyone wants more if not for their boundless dreams, then for their children or the family to come. While Marshall and Regina have got a vision of sorts, Ben's and Oscar's are vague at best, the former would buy horses, while the latter plans to take trips (If Oscar and Birdie hit the road, you can be sure her ticket will be one way). Nobody considers the social implications of the accrual of wealth. Cheap labor, low operating costs, and absence of unions mean more for them and less for everyone else and are the only considerations on the table. Only Horace, who has looked mortality in the face, questions the ethics of the deal. He knows he has enough money for his life and for the one he hopes to bequeath to his daughter Alexandra. A new form of slavery is being introduced in the South, the wage slave, and he wants no part of it.

How the hungry Hubbards get around the funding dilemma is a source of the play's wicked humor. Without giving too much away, an act of fraud is committed which falls into the category of misappropriation of funds. Seeming every bit the forerunner of spy John Walker, Mr. Shepard's Oscar enlists his own son Leo into the project. Soon the savvy Mr. Bickell is crafting a scenario which Mr. Landis, playing a delightfully compliant Leo, will carry out.

Another great choice is the decision not to overplay the character of Birdie. Typically performed as a boozy, hysterical, and/or bitter aunt in her penultimate scene in Act III, Ms. Madigan searches for just the right touch to deliver an affecting portrayal of an emotionally-abused, tippling, and marginalized spouse, struggling to hold onto her dreams while the reality of the Hubbards keeps barging through. Ms. Madigan's fierce conviction is almost subliminal as she outlines the worst that fate holds in store for her niece Alexandra (Lara Hillier), the gentle and subdued delivery rendered all the more shocking as a consequence.

Addie the cook (Linda Haston) and Cal the servant (Wali Jamal) act as a buffer between the neatly balanced forces of good and evil in Ms. Hellman's world, commenting in telling asides about the profligate ways of the Hubbards. Though their lot's a tough one, they have the measure of their so-called betters and the wisdom to steer clear of the battle. Hundreds and Hundreds of Hubbards are on the horizon, but right behind them are a multitude of Faulknerian Snopes and Steinbeck's Joads to strip the land clean. The day of the locust has arrived. In this ecosystem we almost pity the little foxes.

By the time the soon to be grieving widow descends the stairs to "dot the I's and cross the T's" on the new family business arrangement, there's just one more loose end to tie up - Alexandra's future. But here Ms. Hellman stumbles and Mr. Pappas cannot solve the problem of the finale; Alexandra's sudden move to independence sounds contrived. The movie version added a character (and a love interest) to motivate her actions, but in the play you'll have to suspend disbelief to see the daughter as a future adversary of the formidable Regina. This is the only blemish on an otherwise thoroughly engaging production. The complex portrayals of three-dimensional individuals here results in as satisfying a performance as you are likely to see.

Scenic designer James Noone has fashioned a plush Victorian setting - punctuated by a striking staircase - with rounded settees, ottomans, and couches, using a restful red, lavender, and brown palette, which costumer David Zyla has painstakingly sought to blend with the characters. So successful is he that they seem to move chameleon-like through their camouflaged world in pursuit of quarry. Sound designer Zach Moore introduces each of the three acts with a lustrous cello chamber arrangement to emphasize the antic, expectant, and discordant action to follow. Kirk Bookman's lighting is by turns subtle and revelatory as it illuminates this colorful tableau.

Sound check: Excellent, low sound levels, with actors projecting their natural, unmiked voices to a large theater space gave a nice entrée through the fourth wall

Program notes: Very good, with an article on the playwright, mostly colored photographs and actor head shots, and PPT production history, this program design is a keeper. Might have benefited from director notes, though you catch a nice overview on YouTube (Google on PPT, The Little Foxes)

Applause meter: Standing "O" Highly recommended, 4 hands

Runtime: 2 hours and 10 minutes with two short intermissions

Photo credits: Courtesy of Pittsburgh Public Theater