Bernard J. Taylor’s Tennessee Williams: Portrait of a Gay Icon Brings a Legend to Life at the ATA

Tennessee Williams is alone on stage, and at this point, apparently alone in life. Seen on a lecture tour, he is surrounded by posters of his most famous works: A Streetcar Named Desire, The Glass Menagerie, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof; the face of his muse, Anna Magnani, stares out at us from a poster of The Rose Tattoo. Another wall is plastered with manuscript pages, relics of an era when creativity flowed. Pictures of his beloved sister Rose, his parents (one loving and one abusive), and his life partner Frank Merlo are on the table next to the chair from which he tells his story. They are all ghosts now—the only companion he has with him is a bottle of Vodka. He reminds himself to take “small sips”, but as his trauma comes to the surface these become heavy gulps. His laughter gives way to gasps of despair; he hugs the chair and sobs, imagining it to be Frank in his late partner’s last moments. He screams out Anna’s name in utter desperation for a companion for comforting and understanding than a liquor bottle.

John Stillwaggon as Williams is astonishing; one feels they are genuinely spending an evening with the legendary writer. Williams bares his soul, exorcises his demons and welcomes them back in again, and we feel we are witness to something extraordinary, as turns triumphant and tragic. The south of the mid-20^th century comes to life in his words, and his disdain for the dreaded city of St. Louis is a hilarious running theme amidst the sadness.

A gay man in a time and place where that was not treated kindly, Williams is portrayed by Stillwaggon as defiant, boisterous and charismatic, while simultaneously tragic and heartbreaking. He laments the fate of his beloved Rose, inspiration for Laura in The Glass Menagerie, and the victim of a lobotomy in a time when mental health was even more misunderstood than it is today. He mourns his beloved Frank and curses his vile father, who he says he only got along with “after he died.”

He gushes at the magnificence of the young Brando and rages against the critics—and at “the dying of the light,” noting that he’s once again “graverobbing” from other artists. “They say Dylan Thomas went to the White Horse Tavern…drank 18 shots of whiskey and dropped dead,” he remembers, glancing at the Vodka bottle and musing that he’s likely halfway there himself. It’s funny until you realize he likely wants to complete the journey.

The production is a must-see for the masterful performance of Stillwaggon, who recreates the swagger, wit, charm and pathos of Williams perfectly. It is directed deftly by Carolyn Dellinger, with a brisk pacing that complements Stillwaggon’s performance and Taylor’s writing expertly. It provides great insight into not only the story of one legendary artist, but the very notion of the highs and lows of fame, and the “having and losing” nature of life itself.

Tennessee Williams: Portrait of a Gay Icon, as part of the Icons Festival, runs at the American Theatre of Actors through June 15, 2025.