The Milk Train Doesn’t Stop Here Anymore is a rarely staged Tennessee Williams play written later in William’s career, around the time of his companion Frank Merlo’s passing in 1962. It concerns themes of mortality, memory and desire.

The play follows a glamorous and very wealthy yet lonesome elderly woman, Flora Gorforth, who is suffering from an illness in her villa in the Almalfi Coast. She seems to have no family or real friends present, accompanied by her secretary Blackie, played wittily by Lucie Shorthouse, her staff, including a feisty body guard Rudy, played by Joe Ferrera, and visited by her old friend the Witch of Capri, played phenomenally by Sara Kestelman, with whom they share many scenes of catty comments, gossip and rivalry. 

Flora Goforth is visited by a mysterious character, Chris Flanders, played by Sanee Raval, whose presence from the very beginning is incredibly haunting and perhaps at times too suggestive of what is to unfold. Chris Flanders is known on the small island in the capacity of an escort for elderly women. The Witch of Capri spreads rumours and warns Flora of his dangerous nickname ‘The Angel of Death’. There is a bewitching scene between Raval and Marlowe where a power struggle unfolds. Meanwhile, a large part of the narrative concerns Flora Goforth’s mission to dictate her lifes memories to Blackie as she is in the process of writing her memoirs. There is a beautiful monologue on the nature of memory, which becomes evident as a core theme of this delicate play: “Has it ever struck you that life is all memory, except for the one present moment that goes by you so quick you hardly catch it going?” 

Flora Gorforth is played by Linda Marlowe with a perfect Willliamesque concoction of grace, charm, wit and neuroticism which is demanded by his leading ladies. Marlowe’s warmth and earnestness engages the audiences sympathy, which is crucial for Williams’ suffering heroines who so often are misunderstood. Director Robert Chevara deserves commendation for finding the correct tonality and balance to capture the delicate subject matter of desire, dysfunction, loneliness and mortality with this excellent cast. 

A particularly striking scene is shared by Marlowe and Kestelman, which sees two old friends reunited over dinner, calling each other catty names, being rather cruel to one another and gossiping. It is intelligently paced, humorously executed and a joy to watch as the two older women’s devious sexuality and intentions unravel. Something that is rarely given stage time.

A profound, thoughtful, expressive, moving and humorous play performed and directed well.

**** Four stars

Reviewed by: Viv Williams

The Milk Train Doesn’t Stop Here Anymore plays at Charing Cross Theatre until 22 October, with tickets available here.