The Cast Photo by Michael Brosilow

Director Colin Hanlon smoothly guides Ostrin's compelling, maybe-true tale of a day in Williams' life when a mostly unknown Brando arrives at his home to audition for his new play, A Streetcar Named Desire. The play begins with a lover's spat between Williams and Pancho (Reece Dos Santos), which occurs while theatre director and producer Margo Jones (Alison Cimmet, who is astoundingly human and very funny) reads and comments on a draft of Williams' Streetcar, but its action truly begins to unravel when Brando enters, and is much later joined by his girlfriend, Jo (a delightful Ellie Ricker). Ostrin's script is punchy and quick-witted, but does not offer much in the way of commentary deeper than historical depiction. Not to worry–if you have even a slight interest in the work of Williams or Brando, the intensity and strangeness of the interaction is plenty to keep you entertained.

Galecki and Moskovitz take the show in their very capable hands and run with it. Galecki's Williams is suave and remarkably accurate to the playwright's likeness, at least in terms of verbal and physical affectation. Galecki and Williams don't share enough physical traits to be mistaken for each other, but Galecki seems effortless in his ability to recreate Williams' slow, stilted, Southern speech. On the other end, Moskovitz' casual physicality and straightforward delivery provide not only an adept mimicking of Brando, but also a compelling foil to Galecki's Williams. None of the mimicry on either side takes precedence over their performance as human beings, though, and it would be easy to forget who the two are supposed to be if you weren't reminded so often by the playwright; Ostrin has a hard time resisting the low-hanging fruit of over-the-top references to Streetcar and to Brando's future as a promising actor, but he does succeed in finding plenty of laughs in these moments with the audience. ("Marlon Brando?," Jones says at one point to Williams. "He's gotta change that name.")

Kowalski is liveliest in the uninterrupted conversation between Williams and Brando, in which the two constantly exchange the upper hand and reveal aspects of themselves like petals of a flower to each other and to the audience. Scenic design by David Gallo is key to this unraveling, as the pair seem to go through 50 combined prop cigarettes (the visual of which is interesting, but the asthmatic in me wished I hadn't been sitting so close), and Moskovitz is genius in his uncaring way of ransacking Williams' house of various candies and drinks. Lisa Zinni's costume design is subtle but impactful in defining the characters, particularly when it comes to conveying a difference in generation.

As a play, Kowalski will probably not send you home thinking about any particular theme or message you may carry with you for the rest of your life like a Tennessee Williams work might, unless you've been thinking of taking up smoking herbal cigarettes. But, it is still not to be missed–a beautiful set and some incredible performances make for an exhilarating production that is akin to watching a niche history book come to life.

Kowalski runs through October 25, 2026, at Lookingglass Theatre Company, 163 Pearson St at Michigan Ave., Chicago IL. For tickets and information, please visit lookingglasstheatre.org.