Kathleen Turner, flanked by playwright Edward Albee (left) and actor Bill Irvin, at a press meet on Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?. AFP

For an era that likes to see its celebrities in hotly-matched competitions, it was an irresistibly juicy set-up ? three gorgeous, famous gals with plenty of mileage on them but still in fighting form; three roles perceived as ultimate tests for actresses in American theatre.

When it was announced that Jessica Lange, Natasha Richardson and Kathleen Turner would be appearing this season as the notoriously neurotic heroines of The Glass Menagerie, A Streetcar Named Desire and Who?s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, Broadway seemed poised to become an arena for an exciting Olympics of acting.

Who, theatre fanatics speculated as they drooled, would snatch the laurels for histrionic hysteria? Would it be Lange as Tennessee Williams?s relentlessly vivacious, child-warping Amanda Wingfield (as directed by David Leveaux); Richardson as Williams?s little ol? nympho Blanche DuBois (with Edward Hall directing); or Turner as Edward Albee?s Martha, the loud, disappointed faculty wife and husband chewer (under the direction of Anthony Page)?

Jessica Lange: Notoriously neurotic

The outcome has not been what any sane odds-maker would have predicted. For Turner, the undisputed winner of this act-a-thon, initially seemed like the long shot. Not that this lusty, feisty star of films like Body Heat and Crimes of Passion looks like anyone?s idea of an underdog. But her last performance on Broadway had been little more than a stunt, a campy (and, briefly, buck-naked) turn as Mrs Robinson in a cheesy theatrical version of The Graduate; she had a reputation for erratic behaviour on and off stage; and she hadn?t made a decent movie in years.

Lange, on the other hand, was a two-time Oscar winner who had recently triumphed in London as Eugene O?Neill?s Mary Tyrone.

And Richardson, the daughter of the great Vanessa Redgrave, had not only pedigree on her side but also audience?s warm memories of her sensitive portraits of the bruised, jaded central figures of Cabaret, for which she won a Tony, and Anna Christie.

Yet when the dust of theatrical gossip and debate had settled, only Turner was left standing. You might even say she was left towering, since she is the only one of the three to receive anything close to unanimous critical praise. More to the point for those who measure success in trophies, she is the only one to have received a Tony nomination.

Turner?s performance may well be the most powerful of the season (though she is likely to lose the Tony race to a long-time Broadway sweetheart, the excellent Cherry Jones of Doubt). Her Martha is a fiery, almost frightening fusion of an actress and a role, while Lange and Richardson still seem to be groping in the dark for their characters.

Natasha Richardson with actor Liam Neeson after the opening of A Streetcar Named Desire. AFP

Fitting the part was the one area in which Turner had a definite edge going in. Albee?s Martha is a highly sexed, self-described ?earth mother? who has a talent for turning strong men into quivering boys. She is, in other words, a middle-aged, coarsened version of the fatal sirens that Turner played on screen in the glory days of her film career.

Richardson had revealed a natural affinity for unhinged Southern ladies in strong television portrayals of Zelda Fitzgerald and the victimised, institutionalised heroine of Williams?s Suddenly Last Summer.

Fans of Lange?s film work may have thought her an odd choice for the tenacious, willful Amanda Wingfield. On screen, her strength was in a fluid, dreamy sensuality that could on occasion turn toxic (Frances, Blue Sky). Still, she was much lauded in London as the iconic, fretful mother in Long Day?s Journey Into Night and had previously made game attempts, on Broadway and in London, at Blanche.