REVIEW: The Two Character Play

The Hampstead Theatre Club. December 1967

Character: Felice

• N.B. The world premiere of the play was on Monday, 11th December, 1967.

“Your sister and you are insane!”

The Two Character play remains one of Tennessee Williams most enigmatic and self-reflective late works. First performed in revised form in 1963, it lacks the immediate accessibility of A Streetcar Named Desire, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, or The Glass Menagerie, yet it possesses a hypnotic power. For audiences open to its dreamlike logic and psychological ambiguity, the play offers a compelling exploration of isolation, identity, madness, and the intersection of theatre and reality.

The premise is deceptively simple: siblings and actors, Clare (Mary Ure) and Felice (Peter Wyngarde), arrive at a theatre to perform, only to find that their touring company has abandoned them. Rather than cancel, they decide to perform the play themselves. However, the drama they present mirrors their own lives so closely that the boundaries between the actors and their characters begin to dissolve. As the evening progresses, it becomes unclear where reality ends and performance begins.

Above: Peter and Mary Ure rehearsing the play with director James Roose-Evans

This framework allowed Williams to explore themes that preoccupied him throughout his career. The play is deeply autobiographical, reflecting his own struggles with loneliness, mental instability, and the burden of memory. Written during a period of personal loss and declining critical success, the atmosphere of siege surrounding Clare and Felice mirrors the playwright’s own sense of artistic isolation. The abandoned theatre serves as a metaphor for a hostile world in which the artist must continue to perform despite dwindling support.

The characters are extraordinary creations. Clare, the more fragile of the two, experiences periods of emotional instability and fears she is losing her grip on reality. Nevertheless, she possesses remarkable sensitivity and insight, and Williams provides her with some of the play’s most lyrical passages. Her vulnerability makes her sympathetic, yet she is never merely a victim; beneath her fragility lies a fierce determination to survive.

Felice functions as both protector and fellow prisoner. While he attempts to maintain order and rationality, he is as trapped as his sister. Their relationship – characterised by affection, dependency, and mutual need – forms the emotional core of the play. Williams portrays them as two souls bound by circumstance and memory, unable to escape one another. This intensity creates a sense of emotional claustrophobia that permeates the work.

One of the play’s most striking qualities is its atmosphere. Williams evokes specific emotional states through theatrical imagery, creating an environment that feels simultaneously realistic and surreal. The abandoned theatre, the uncertain audience, and the recurring suggestions of childhood trauma generate a mood of unease that never entirely dissipates, leaving the audience feeling as if they have entered a nightmare.

Williams’ language remains a major attraction. While the dialogue lacks the earthy realism of his earlier masterpieces, it compensates with poetic richness. The characters often speak in heightened, reflective passages that reveal their fears and desires with painful honesty. At times, the writing resembles expressionist drama or prose poetry more than conventional realism—an approach that may alienate some viewers but produces moments of extraordinary beauty.

The exploration of theatre itself is especially intriguing. The Two Character Play constantly questions what separates acting from living. By turning the stage into a hall of mirrors where performers and characters reflect one another, Williams anticipates later postmodern theatrical experiments, though he never loses sight of the human emotions beneath the intellectual conceit.

Unsurprisingly, the play has divided critics. Some have dismissed it as obscure or structurally confusing. There is some justification for this, as the narrative unfolds through psychological association rather than conventional plot development. The symbolism is dense, and Williams frequently prioritises mood over clarity.

However, such criticisms often miss the point. The play is not intended to operate according to ordinary dramatic logic; its purpose is to immerse the audience in a state of uncertainty. What may appear to be weaknesses are actually deliberate artistic choices. The disorientation serves the themes, forcing viewers to confront questions about identity, performance, and perception.

For modern audiences, the play feels surprisingly contemporary. Its examination of fractured identity resonates in an age fascinated by the performance of selfhood. Clare and Felice struggle to distinguish authentic experience from enacted behaviour – a dilemma that remains relevant in a world where public personas often compete with private realities.

Ultimately, productions of The Two Character Play depend heavily on the actors. Because the play revolves almost entirely around two figures, weak performances expose the script’s limitations, while strong performances transform the work into a deeply affecting experience. The roles demand emotional range, technical precision, and the ability to navigate rapid shifts between reality and fiction.

Viewed within the broader context of Williams’ career, The Two Character Play represents a courageous artistic risk. Rather than repeating the formula that brought him fame, he ventured into experimental territory. While it may not possess the polished perfection of his greatest works, it reveals a playwright continuing to challenge himself and his audience.

The Two Character Play is not an easy work, nor is it intended to be. It demands patience and a willingness to embrace ambiguity. However, audiences prepared to engage with its unsettling world will discover a work of considerable depth.

The Character Felice

Felice is one of the two central characters in The Two-Character Play, and serves as both the dramatic anchor of the work and its most elusive figure. Alongside his sister Clare, he is trapped within a disturbing world where the boundaries between theatre and reality have become increasingly blurred. As both actor and character, Felice occupies a shifting position throughout the play, struggling to maintain order and rationality while confronting forces that threaten to overwhelm him. His complexity makes him one of Williams’ most intriguing late creations.

At first glance, Felice appears to be the stronger and more stable of the two siblings. He assumes responsibility for guiding the performance after the rest of the acting company abandons them. Whereas Clare is openly vulnerable and prone to emotional distress, Felice projects an image of calm authority. He attempts to organise events, reassure his sister, and sustain the illusion that everything remains under control. In many respects, he acts as Clare’s protector, shielding her from the harsh realities of their circumstances and offering emotional support whenever her fears threaten to consume her.

Yet Williams gradually reveals that Felice’s strength is largely a façade. Beneath his composed exterior lies a man as frightened and uncertain as his sister. He struggles with the same memories, anxieties, and emotional wounds that haunt Clare. Indeed, one of the play’s central themes is that neither sibling can escape the psychological prison they inhabit. Felice may appear more rational, but he is just as trapped by the past and just as unable to separate reality from performance.

The relationship between Felice and Clare is the emotional heart of the play. Their bond is characterised by loyalty, dependence, and shared suffering. Having endured a traumatic childhood, they have become inseparable, united by experiences that few others could understand. Felice often assumes a parental role towards Clare, comforting and encouraging her when she falters. However, this responsibility also places a heavy burden upon him. He cannot simply walk away or pursue an independent existence because he feels deeply connected to his sister’s welfare. Their lives have become intertwined to such an extent that one seems incomplete without the other.

As the drama progresses, Felice’s confidence begins to erode. The distinction between the play they are performing and their own lives becomes increasingly obscure. His efforts to control events grow more desperate, revealing the fragility beneath his outward composure. In these moments Williams exposes the loneliness and vulnerability hidden behind Felice’s protective mask. He becomes a profoundly tragic figure, a man attempting to preserve order in a world that refuses to obey logic.

Felice also functions as a reflection of Williams himself. Many critics have noted autobiographical elements throughout The Two-Character Play, and Felice’s role as an artist struggling against isolation and uncertainty echoes the playwright’s own experiences during his later years. Like Williams, Felice continues to perform despite fear, confusion, and the absence of support. He embodies the artist’s determination to create meaning even when confronted by despair.

What makes Felice particularly compelling is that he is neither hero nor victim. He is intelligent, caring, and resilient, yet also frightened, flawed, and emotionally burdened. His contradictions give him a deeply human quality. While Clare often attracts sympathy through her fragility, Felice’s quieter suffering can be equally moving. He bears responsibility not only for himself but also for his sister, and the weight of that responsibility becomes increasingly difficult to sustain.

Ultimately, Felice represents endurance in the face of uncertainty. He struggles to maintain dignity and purpose within a world that seems to be collapsing around him. Through the character of Felice, Williams explores themes of loyalty, memory, identity, and the thin line separating reality from illusion. The result is one of the playwright’s most fascinating and psychologically rich characters, a man whose courage lies not in triumph but in his determination to continue despite overwhelming emotional challenges.

Above: Peter and Mary Ure on stage at The Hampstead Theatre Club

Peter’s View

“It is the most harrowing part I have ever done. To convey the madness in the madness, like Chinese boxes, and yet to appear saner than Clare: we both came out after the show with hoops of steel around our heads. Because it is so near the bone, it’s a terribly depressing piece to play in which is unusual; ordinarily, one comes out of acting in a play, invigorated. And yet halfway through, it takes over. It is unquestionably a great piece, especially since the Out Cry[1] revisions. It is impossible to be bad in it… well, almost impossible.

“Tennessee was at all the rehearsals, with his wrenched companion of the time bullying him. But Tennessee was gone [drunk and stoned], out of it, completely. He could offer nothing approaching dictatorial advice.

“I never saw Tennessee and Maria together, although I met her separately. But I knew this: that she was a good influence on him at a terrible time. The death of his friend Frank Merlo had overwhelmed him.”

“I never saw Tennessee and Maria together, although I met her separately. But I knew this: that she was a good influence on him at a terrible time. The death of his friend Frank Merlo had overwhelmed him.”

Notes: [1]: The revisions of The Two Character Play was called ‘Out Cry’ – of all Tennessee William’s plays, the only one he ever typed in capital letters.