Rosmersholm at the Duke of York’s, London.
Tom Burke and Hayley Atwell are developing rather interesting careers, both combining popular TV and film work with Serious Theatre. Rosmersholm, a rarely performed work by Ibsen, sits very definitely in the latter category. The play explores the relationship of Burke’s Rosmer, a pastor who has lost his faith after the suicide of his wife by drowning, and Atwell’s Rebecca, a “liberated woman” who may be leading him towards a new political fulfilment. The story plays out in Rosmer’s titular ancestral home, against the backdrop of a close-fought election campaign.
Ibsen writes great roles for women, and Rebecca is one of those – she’s far more the star of the play than Rosmer, even though he’s the one with his name in the title – and Atwell gives a luminous performance. Burke plays Rosmer with great intelligence, truly bringing home the character’s pain in his lost faith. Also excellent are Giles Terera as the fiery right-wing politician, Andreas Kroll, who also happens to be Rosmer’s brother-in-law, and Lucy Briers as the housekeeper who knows much but says little.
The production values are as good as the acting – both the set and lighting (by Rae Smith and Neil Austin) are gorgeous. There’s also one very clever coup de theatre at the very end, which I won’t describe in order to avoid spoilers.
The problem – in so far as there is one – lies with the play itself. I can see both why it felt like the right time to revive it, and why it hasn’t been performed more often. It’s themes of how individual hopes for positive change and progress are crushed by warring ideologies, and it’s sharp view of right-wing populism make it apposite for our time. But, the politics and the human stories never seem entirely integrated, especially in the overly-long first half, where Kroll’s long speeches draw some laughter, but distract us from the central couple, on whom our sympathy for the play must depend.
It is also not a play to see if you need to gather strength for the political fight, or even just need cheering up, to the extent that my husband has now added Ibsen (alongside Chekhov) to his list of playwrights I must not take him to see. It is not a play which will soothe or uplift, but – in this production at least – it will certainly haunt you.
Rosmersholm runs until 20th July.
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