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Fringe benefits
A Doll’s House, Red Elm
BY LIZA WEISSTUCH
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Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House induces either naturalistic or irreverent, expressionistic impulses in a director. Sarah Friedberg, who helms the play for Small World Big Sky Productions (at Devanaughn Theatre through December 11), mines it for its naturalism. Set against Benoit Beauchamp’s detailed prim parlor, her straightforward staging lets us focus on the ricocheting dialogue of Irish playwright Frank McGuinness’s fluid, lyrical adaptation. And the actors wield feelings like potentially explosive weapons on the cozy domestic battlefield. Bucking the trend as we approach the 2006 centennial of Ibsen’s death, Friedberg does not supply any fresh metaphors or psychological insights to yank this forward-thinking 1879 classic into our post-post-modern times. (Last year, little people were cast in the male roles in Mabou Mines’ dollhouse, the female actors towering over them.) She does, however, take liberty with the famous ending, tacking on a bold twist not prescribed by Ibsen. And she’s staunch in her interpretation of Nora as a woman whose mind has been long made up to leave overbearing husband Torvald (Dann Anthony Maurno, channeling an unctuous Rhett Butler) and who now has only to reveal her decision and deal with the unpredicted spiritual challenges the men pose to her. With a chirpy voice, a chilly gaze, and a nervous flutter, Ellen Adair is a Nora poised but tired from lugging around her societal obligations and itching to live for herself. What would have become of Nora and Torvald had she stuck it out with him? They might have wound up something like Jack and Margaret Butler, the deteriorating golden-agers of Dan Hunter’s Red Elm, which is getting a sprightly production at Boston Playwrights’ Theatre (through December 18) under Karl Michaelis’s direction, with veteran Boston actor William Young playing Jack as a shambling, cranky shell of a man and Ann Marie Shea as his wife. The sluggish, batty couple have existed in a Blanche DuBois–like world of illusion since their star son died in Vietnam. Meanwhile, their beer-swigging loafer son, Ezra (Mark Peckham), lives in a trailer on their Iowa farm as he tries to take over dad’s business, ensure his place in the elder man’s will, and seduce long-time acquaintance Linda (Julie Jirousek as a demure darling), who’s also dad’s secretary. In a sense, Ezra is attempting to plant roots in the family that go as deep as an elm’s. But since the effort comes late and the son has no children to bolster his claim to the legacy, dad ripostes with verbal daggers like "You’re not my son, you’re a rotten seed." Apart from the characters’ back stories, which could be better developed, Hunter is a skilled craftsman; he builds to a climax that leaves you feeling bruised and winded and fills the climb with crackling zingers and moments of raw revelation for the patriarch. Still, the conclusion feels incomplete and might make a bigger impact with, say, a door slam.
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