STAGE REVIEW : Cowlick Tops Off a Top-Notch ‘Menagerie’

“The Glass Menagerie,” in a luminous rendering at the Rose Theatre in Venice, is a fragile and breathless production. It not only rewards those who may have seen the play a half-dozen times, but also stands as a terrific opportunity for people who have never seen it at all to catch up with an American classic.

There is a gentle respect here for Tennessee Williams that never slops into sentimentality. Remarkably enough, director Matthew Walker, an actor who had never directed before, is only 19. Another winning surprise is the actress playing the desperate mother, Amanda Wingfield. Kay St. Germain, a former big band singer, only lately took up acting and she delivers a strong and affecting performance in what amounts to her first non-musical dramatic challenge.

Another revealing element in the production’s arsenal is that the emotionally paralyzed daughter Laura Wingfield, at the performance we saw, was superbly played by a bench warmer, understudy Lisa Todd. Her tremulousness is perfectly calibrated.

The interpretation of the mother-daughter relationship explores new ground in this otherwise faithful revival. St. Germain can chatter maddeningly while simultaneously expressing a tenderness to her crippled daughter. This shading brushes the mother with the sense of a fragile caress, nicely diminishing her image as merely a bundle of strident anxiety. St. Germain, the anchor of the piece, also displays a flare for the comic.

The two men in the play are cast with precision: Charles Klausmeyer, complete with a prescribed cowlick, is both poetic and vivid as the son Tom, and Robert Boardman, in yet another uncommon production element, is refreshingly up-front, likable and sympathetic as the gentleman caller.

One quick hint of the show’s detail and care is the legitimate, 1930s green pack of Lucky Strikes Boardman pulls out of his pocket. Even the mother’s Ladies Home Journal--in St. Germain’s wonderful sales pitches over the phone--is the real Depression item.

Technically, the show is aglow with melancholy and foreboding tones. Robert Smith’s delicate, ambitious lighting scheme and his fire escape/drab living room set enlarge upon the play’s lyricism. Sara Ann Shaw’s costumes complement the mood, especially in the women’s fancy (and sad) dresses for the big evening with the gentleman caller.

At 318 Lincoln Blvd. (entrance from rear alley), Venice, Thursdays through Saturdays, 8 p.m., Sunday matinees 2 p.m., through Aug. 28. Tickets: $8-$10. (213) 452-5033.