My name is Travis Bergmann and I recently saw one of John Stillwaggon’s performances of “Tennessee” as part of its run in London. I am an actor who’s worked with John before, and he asked me if, for promotional purposes, I would share with you some of my thoughts from my experience watching “Tennessee”. These thoughts are below:

I recently had the opportunity to join the legendary playwright Tennessee Williams for an evening chat in his living room. Or at least that’s how I felt as I sat in the audience at The Audition House in Camden, London watching Bernard J. Taylor’s “Tennessee Williams: Portrait of a Gay Icon”. The lean set and script were largely responsible for establishing this illusion. A chair, a table, a few posters, some pictures, and supplies for making Gin and Tonics were all that were set out before the audience as we sat, mere feet away, on couches and upholstered chairs. There was no barrier, physical or otherwise, between the audience and the artist. What few props and set elements were present were obviously chosen with precision by director Carolyn Dellinger. Each item tied into the script: the gin set the pace and justified the escalation of the subject matter as the play progressed, the photos each physicalized an important relationship, and the posters often represented a new chapter in Tennessee’s monologue. 

The script itself was, basically, a big 70 minute monologue, albeit a brilliantly researched, thoughtfully woven, and emotionally resonant one. There is only ever one character on stage: Tennessee Williams himself. After introductions, he speaks to us about the ups and downs of his career, his life, his relationships, his vices, and his ideologies as an artist. And I really do mean he speaks to us. The script has no notion of a fourth wall, opting instead to have Tennessee address his audience directly. The monologue has a natural momentum to it, carrying us along using a mix of vivid storytelling and a cheeky sense of humor. It also has a natural gravity, progressively dragging us deeper into Tennessee’s personal struggles and harsher memories. As the play goes on there are fewer moments of shared laughter and more of heavy silence, but the script never loses its flow. The play is masterfully written, but risky to produce. The success of any monologue hinges on the ability of the actor to bring it to life. Luckily for this production, the lead was absolutely up to the task.

John Stillwaggon had his audience transfixed. The costume, accent, mannerisms, and personality he embodied painted a slightly larger-than-life Tennessee (who, by all accounts, was larger-than-life) that was perfectly impossible to take your eyes off of. Stillwaggon exposed us to all of the different facets of Tennessee alluded to by the script: the charming socialite artiste, the scared but resilient child, the fiery preacher of character-first playwriting, the regretful addict, and more. He invited us all to be guests of his Tennessee, engaging members of his audience directly with a shared look or a pointed joke. We were brought into the fold; which made the personal stories he shared more entertaining, and the hard truths he entrusted us with more devastating. There was a distinct familiarity, point-of-view, and emotion attached to every topic that Stillwaggon’s Tennessee spoke about. Stillwaggon’s preparatory research into the part must’ve rivalled even that of the script writer. The entrancing and personal performance left me feeling less like I had just seen a play about a historical figure, and more that I had just visited a friend: a brilliant and charming friend, but one I am often concerned for. A friend who leaves me with rich stories that I don’t easily forget.