A few weeks back, I has the massive privilege of speaking with Rachel Weisz and the great director Terence Davies and who were in town to promote their incredible movie, “The Deep Blue Sea.” If you haven’t seen it, stop everything and catch it soon, because it’s just incredible.
Now, I’m a humungous Tennesse Williams fanatic, and Rachel got tons of acclaim for her performance as Blanche in a London production of “Streetcar” a few years ago, so I couldn’t help but ask her about it, and Mr. Davies gave me an interesting story that didn’t end up in the interview, so I figured I’d share it with y’all here.
“I didn’t actually even know that Blanche was the female equivalent of Hamlet and all the stuff I’ve now been told. I didn’t go into it realizing exactly how scary it was going to be. The writing is just beyond anything I’ve ever said. In my 20’s I did “Suddenly Last Summer,” actually. I love, love, love, love Tennessee Williams. That’s actually where I feel most at home. That’s naturalism for me. The rest is a struggle. I love Tennessee. You’re not that keen, though, Terence, are you?”
“Oh, why, the great plays really are great. But “The Fugitive Kind,” for example, which was from the play “Orpheus Descending,” is supposed to be full of all this damned symbolism, but I never get it. It’s like with spy films. I never know who’s spying on whom.”
Then, Davies told an interesting tale. Of course, I can’t confirm that this actually happened.
“But there’s a wonderful story; stop me if you’ve heard it. Tennessee Williams was visiting Gore Vidal in Capri. He had a villa there. And they went cruising, and they couldn’t find anybody.”
“Cruising? For a boy?” Rachel asks.
“Yes, or a boy.”
“Ah, I wasn’t sure if they were on a yacht. Go on.”
“Of course, darling. And they came back, and Tennessee said, “I guess it’s just you and me.” And Vidal said, “Why, Tennessee, don’t be macabre.”