Like Britain, but a decade earlier, American theatre received an explosion of new talent and a major change of direction in the years following the Second World War. In 19146 appeared All my Sons by Arthur Miller; in 1947 came A Streetcar named Desire by Tennessee Williams .Was this also a presage of their future status, with Miller ahead by a whisker? Yet Williams has created in Blanche and Stanley a pair of towering characters of lasting impact -- and a gift to actors. Structurally, too, he was more innovative, keeping the Aristotelian unity of place while rejecting the standard division into acts in favour of 11 scenes. One editor has described these as a series of one-act plays and each does indeed have its own unity and climax.

The student company presenting the show this week at the Playhouse is headed by the ubiquitous Tom Littler who's been directing plays since he was 14 and is already a serious influence on drama -- not just in Oxford. An impresario in the making if ever I saw one. He lays stress on Williams's admiration for Chekhov and draws the parallel with The Cherry Orchard, which also gives us the crumbling of an old land-owning class run to seed while retaining vestiges of former ideals and its inevitable replacement by a rougher-edged aggressive materialism. He also warns us off recalling what he calls the "deeply-flawed" Elia Kazan film. Come off it, Tom.

His opener, with house-lights up, brilliantly creates the lazy, casual, friendly streetlife of the Quarter, and his young cast (all with dramatic CVs of boggling range) come on strong in the brawls. Martin Thomas has achieved a good set, though the inside/outside frontier blurs. The challenge of the continuous scenes isn't met. The prop changes, and the spring-cleaning and tidying after each scene (there's a lot of broken glass about) slows the production and needs to be slicker.

More trying -- a familiar moan -- is poor vocal projection. Elisabeth Gray looked lovely as Blanche but those important narrations weren't always audible. Michael Lesslie was clearer as Stanley, contributing a sideways moue all his own to the part. Edward Archibald's gawky, hesitant, decent but fundamentally inadequate Mitch mumbled occasionally. Did Stella (Victoria Ross) have to wear Baby Doll clothes to show she was the younger sister?

Williams was never one to stint on symbols, and wanted the offstage music to have a discernible meaning for Blanche and for the audience; it was hardly perceptible here. The passage of the Mexican Woman with her cry of "Flowers for the dead" should also make more effect. But the human conflict of passions denied, flaunted, pursued and rejected resounded truthfully throughout the play.

JEANNINE ALTON