OFTEN described as a “memory” play, Tennessee Williams locates the action of The Glass Menagerie in Saint Louis on the eve of WWII.

But in director Ellen McDougall’s revival, the temporal context has been removed to demonstrate the universality of the play’s themes, with the action contained within an empty black box nestling over a trench of water.

The dysfunctional family in Williams’s play are thus isolated from the rest of society, while the suggestiveness of the staging symbolises their stagnation, with the stark design and unforgiving lighting drawing the audience close to the action and the tensions between the characters.

Tom Mothersdale brings an edginess to his role as the narrator Tom, who vacillates between duty and desperation to escape his claustrophobic home life.

It’s nonetheless Greta Scacchi, as his highly strung, former southern belle mother Amanda and Erin Doherty, as his frightened and apologetic sister Laura, who steal the show.

The strain between them becomes almost unbearable during the second act, during which Tom is goaded into bringing home a “gentleman caller.”

As Amanda becomes embarrassingly manic, Laura is coaxed out of her glass shell by ambitious warehouse clerk Jim O’Connor (Eric Kofi Abrefa). It’s a transformation that’s manifested by the platform shoe taped to her foot, representing her disability, which she kicks off as her confidence rises.

Yet the moment of short-lived liberation is almost an unkindness — a glimpse into the life she could have lived. It’s a scene of heightened emotion that’s contrasted elsewhere with the play’s black comedy, including the ironic use of Will The Circle Be Unbroken, a hymn to kinship and family.

Despite the undoubted autobiographical elements, the play becomes a dark mirror into the audience’s own uneasy relationships.

Runs until October 3, box office: wyp.org.uk

Review by Susan Darlington