Lillian Hellman's plays are often criticized for being excessively melodramatic, and the Shakespeare Theatre's production of The Little Foxes doesn't do much to dispel that criticism.
Subtlety would be one way to counteract the extremes of melodrama, but while Douglas Hughes' staging makes some efforts in this direction, his production rarely achieves it.
Nor is that the only difficulty with the Shakespeare Theatre's first venture into Hellman territory. From the start, the three actors portraying the venal Hubbard siblings strain credibility as blood kin.
It's not just a matter of physical appearance, although that's a contributing factor. The actors' mannerisms and even their widely varied Southern accents belie any family relationship. Elizabeth Ashley's Regina is an arrogant social-climber who parades about her parlor like a queen bee (the Southern-born actress also has the most consistent accent).
In contrast, as her brother, Ben, rotund, white-haired and goateed David Sabin bears a regrettable resemblance to Colonel Sanders, and though his soft-spoken voice cannot disguise an underlying sense of menace, that sense is jarred by odd hints of New York in his speech.
The least likely member of this triumvirate is Jonathan Hadary's Oscar, a nasty little dark-haired man whose frequent outbursts and bullying of his wife suggest a rat with a Napoleon complex, but whose fussy, nervous gestures make him appear more like a mouse.
The one trait these three indisputably share, however, is villainy. And the obviousness with which that is manifest here is the chief reason the melodramatic tendencies get out of hand. The playwright wrote in her memoir, Pentimento, that she "had meant the audience to recognize some part of themselves in the money-dominated Hubbards," but the Shakespeare Theatre makes it far too easy to distance yourself from this avaricious threesome.
The Hubbards are, in the words of Regina's housekeeper, Addie, "people who eat the earth and eat all the people on it like in the Bible with the locusts." (Hellman had a proclivity for spelling out of the obvious.) In The Little Foxes, the year is 1900, and the high-and-mighty Hubbards have persuaded a rich Chicago businessman to build a cotton mill in their town. They guarantee him cheap labor and are also putting up a sizable investment, which they're sure will make them fabulously wealthy.
Ben and Oscar have come up with their share of the front money, but Regina has been unable to persuade her ailing husband Horace to put up their third. In fact, she has been unable to lure him back home from Baltimore, where he has been receiving treatment for a heart condition at Johns Hopkins.
When Kier Dullea's Horace finally comes home, at the start of the second act, he brings a note of dignity and restraint to the proceedings. He looks elegant, frail and weary, almost cadaverous, and though Hellman made sure Horace was not a saint, Dullea plays him as a man of principles and altruism, especially compared to his self-centered wife.
But welcome as this example of restraint may be, it doesn't last long. By the time we get to Horace and Regina's climactic third-act confrontation, Dullea is clutching his heart, and lighting designer Robert Wierzel is casting looming shadows of doom on the staircase in designer Hugh Landwehr's heavy, funeral parlor-like set. Like the direction, the design would have benefited from more suggestion and less brute force.
Fortunately, several of the supporting performances offer relief from overstatement. Oscar's faded Southern belle wife, Birdie, can easily become a caricature, but Nancy Robinette finds genuine heart in this browbeaten soul. Similarly, Jewell Robinson portrays Addie, the housekeeper, as a woman who is as understanding as she is wise.
Both women are devoted to Regina and Horace's lovely 17-year-old daughter, Alexandra, and Nicole Lowrance's portrayal goes a long way toward restoring the balance in this production. Not only does she appear to be her parents' daughter - she has her mother's coloring and her father's sensitivity - but in giving her the last word, Hellman presented a tiny glimpse of hope for the future.
Indeed, if you look at The Little Foxes as Alexandra's coming-of-age story, you may come away from this production with a degree of satisfaction. On the other hand, if you think of it as just another tale of rampant greed, you'll recognize certain modern parallels, but you're unlikely to find much human connection lurking beneath the indulgent surfaces.
Little Foxes
Where: Shakespeare Theatre, 450 Seventh St. N.W., Washington
When: 7:30 p.m. Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Sundays; 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays; matinees at 2 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays. Through July 28
Tickets: $14.50-$63
Call: 877-487-8849