STAGE REVIEW : ‘Foxes’ Lacks Immoral Support

Most Americans have a love/hate relationship with greed. The Puritan in us decrees that the grasping Alexis Carrington in “Dynasty” never gets all that she wants, while the capitalist in us vicariously relishes seeing her parade around in the glorious glitter she wears so well.

Is one message in “Dynasty” stronger than the other? Well, let’s face it--the advertisements that punctuate the episodes are not exactly geared toward the poverty-stricken.

In contrast, Lillian Hellman, one of America’s most uncompromisingly moral playwrights, had no confusion where she stood on most issues, especially on that of greed.

“The Little Foxes,” Hellman’s 1939 play about a ruthlessly grasping Southern family, is a well-constructed tale of cupidity that takes its cue from the warning line in the “Song of Solomon”: “Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines: for our vines have tender grapes.”

Unfortunately, the revival of the show, playing at the the Hahn Cosmopolitan Theatre through May 28, does not reprise Hellman’s stinging indictment of these destructive foxes.

In the play, it is the character of Regina Giddens, the scheming Southern lady, who represents the apex of ruthlessness and its attendant costs to the soul. The part, made famous by Tallulah Bankhead on stage and Bette Davis on film, lends itself to a larger-than-life portrayal. Here the part, as played by Kit Goldman, managing producer of the Gaslamp Quarter Theatre, could be mistaken for a minor role.

Goldman cuts a regal figure in Nancy Jo Smith’s elegant veils and sweeping trains, but her acting reveals all the emotional complexity of a two-finger rendition of “Chopsticks.” She plays anger quiet and anger loud. Most crucially, at the point where we are supposed to see a suggestion of a Southern Lady Macbeth, nervously trying to clean the blood from her hands, we don’t.

When her daughter asks her whether she is afraid--which is tantamount to her saying J’accuse!-- passivity falls across Goldman’s features like a mask, and the moment that should have packed a punch trails off like an uncertain thread. The result is that the strongest images--the ones that linger-- are the seductive elegance of Robert Earl’s exquisitely detailed set, masterfully lit by Matthew Cubitto, with the flickering candles playing off the tassels, polished brass and wood. John Hauser’s sound design, snatches of keyboard music drifting in and out, add to the magic of the mood.

As for the rest of the uneven acting ensemble, Will Simpson’s direction pulls up sparks from them but never ignites a flame.

Rebecca Nachison seizes the heart of the action as Birdie, the one true Southern aristocrat who is beaten down by her mercenary in-laws. Like a lyrical visitor from a Tennessee Williams play, her nervous, breathy laughter flutters like a moth around the others’ hellish flames.

Von Schauer creates a full-bodied portrait of Regina’s mercenary brother, Benjamin; Michael Dean Wise hits and misses in his more complex role of Oscar, the brother who, for some unexplained reason, is under the other’s thumb.

Bruce McKenzie finds just the right shiver-down-the-back tone as Oscar’s son, the agreeable, ingenuously conscienceless Leo--the bad seed from which his elders grew. Veronica Henson-Phillips emanates as much command as Addie--the plain-speaking maid--as can be wished.

Heidi Wilson is appealing as Regina’s daughter, Alexandra, but fails to grasp the weight of her role. She is a pivotal character who must demonstrate a subtle growth from being Birdie-like to being strong, but for a good end--the only one in the play to combine those two qualities. She slurs rather than enunciates the crucial transitions in that development.

As Horace Giddens, Philip Shofner conveys neither the requisite age, the illness nor the worn-to-the-bone weariness that comes from being married to Regina. And Sean

Flannery seems to be sleepwalking through the small, but significant, part of the Chicago businessman who gets the family wheels turning.

This production of “The Little Foxes” seems to have taken on the humanization of Hellman’s characters as its special challenge. That, however, is antithetical to Hellman’s vision, which was not to portray the tender side of humans that seem evil only on the surface, but the killing danger of evil that seems human on the surface. The biggest problem with this show is that, like “Dynasty,” it seduces you into thinking that these characters and their life style are not so bad.

“THE LITTLE FOXES”

By Lillian Hellman. Director is Will Simpson. Setting by Robert Earl. Lighting by Matthew Cubitto. Sound by John Hauser. Costumes by Nancy Jo Smith. Stage manager is Robin Daubert. With Veronica Henson-Phillips, Walter Murray, Rebecca Nachison, Michael Dean Wise, Bruce McKenzie, Kit Goldman, Sean Flannery, Heidi Wilson, Von Schauer and Philip Shofner. At 8 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturdays with Sunday matinees at 2. At the Hahn Cosmopolitan Theatre, 444 4th Ave., San Diego.