The Secret Victorianist goes to An Enemy of the People |
An Enemy of the People
(1882) is the story of a man, Dr Stockmann, who thinks there is a problem with
the water supply to the town’s therapeutic baths. His brother, Peter, who is Mayor,
is worried about the economic impact of such a theory becoming public knowledge
and so sets out to silence him.
The decision to highlight the play’s Scandinavian setting despite
the obvious Americanisation of Miller’s script – on a linguistic and
ideological level – was always going to be problematic and the result was a
curious blend of preachiness and overstatement, which I hadn’t found in reading
Christopher Hampton’s wonderful translation, with confusion as to what the play
was actually preaching. Denis Conway’s Peter Stockmann was very much the
villain to Declan Conlon’s heroic Dr Stockmann in a move which robbed Ibsen’s play
of much of its subtlety and moral subjectivity. The journalists Billing (Mark
Huberman) and Hovstad (Ronan Leahy)’s sexual interest in the doctor’s daughter
Petra (Jill Harding) was also made much more overt from the outset, making the
later revelation of their ulterior motives much less shocking and decidedly
predictable.
Declan Conlon and Denis Conway in An Enemy of the People |
Throughout there was a feeling of being spoken down to, in a
way which had much less to do with the original play I think, than with staging
and delivery. It wasn’t only during the climactic town meeting that the
audience felt lectured, and here our alignment with the crowd, as the citizens
moved amongst us, felt ill thought through as the paucity of actors made their attack
on the doctor far from intimidating. The irritating scene changes, in which
suited men and women moved furniture officiously while glaring out at us
against the noise of static interference on a radio, also felt heavy-handed, as
the clever device by which the set increasingly narrowed the stage space
available would have been enough to indicate the family’s increasing entrapment.
With a strong cast (particularly Bosco Hogan as Morten Kiil
and Barry McGovern as Aslaksen), the whole production felt a little like a
missed opportunity and it was disappointing that the implications of certain directorial
decisions seemed to have been ignored. The successful commentary on women’s
exclusion from political questions which earlier scenes in the Stockmann
household had raised for instance was undercut by having one of the vocal
citizens at the meeting be a woman. And the potentially fascist direction in
which the doctor’s belief in a superior elite took his speech felt hurried over
and unexplored, as the production celebrated his revolutionary spirit entirely
uncritically.
Sheridan Smith in Hedda Gabler |
After seeing two wonderful Ibsen productions in London in the
last year – A Doll’s House at the Young Vic and Hedda Gabler at the Old Vic – I was a little disappointed. If you want the real deal, and to appreciate
Ibsen’s unflinching moral complexity, this play is one to read, and probably
not in Miller’s translation.
Dominic Rowan and Hattie Morahan in The Doll's House |
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