GHOSTS. To 6 November.
Harrogate
GHOSTS
by Henrik Ibsen translated by James McFarlane
Harrogate Theatre To 6 November 2004
Tue-Sat 7.30pm Mat 30 Oct 2.30pm
BSL Signed 26 Oct
Captioned 4 Nov
Post-show talk 4 Nov
Runs 2hr 40min Two intervals
TICKETS: 01423 502116
www.harrogatetheatre.co.uk
reiew: Tmothy Ramsden 22 October
Visually poetic, prosaically played revival."And I'm not one for chandeliers," said a member of the audience to her friend, approving the sparkling example hanging like a false sun over the Alving living-room in Harrogte's Ibsen revival. It's a remark that shows how many different audiences are effectively gathered in a single auditorium on any night. It's something especially pertinent when, as here, a production has clear limitations but still shows understanding.
If your theatre world's full of Ghosts the limits become clear. But, while there isn't the coherent detail that makes, for example, the studio production still (just) in rep at Keswick's Theatre By The Lake outstanding, if this is a first chance to see - or a rare opportunity to re-see - the play, it's likely to be worth taking.
On any count, Philip Witcomb's set is a plus. The Alving living-room, its secrets only now coming into the open, looks out through full-height windows to the distant town. Points of light shine way down the fjord, emphasising the loneliness in the Alving existence.
This room, with its narrow doors to other parts of the house, becomes increasingly enclosed until it is finally (as another audience member commented at the end) like a birdcage. Less certain is why it finally opens up to reveal the other characters observing the Alvings - these others, after all, are participants, not judges or bystanders.
This sense of the house as prison helps emphasise the way Ibsen contrasts action inside the room with the offstage events ending each act (thankfully, director Hannah Chissick retains the 3-act structure, with 2 intervals) - the ghostly repetition of sexual shenanigans, the fire, and the culminating sunrise which triggers the final catastrophe. The extinguishing of the distant lights burning through this night of doubt and sorrow intensifies the action's climax - darkness descending as daylight appears.
There are decent performances. Chris Barnes showing Pastor Manders' decline in vocal confidence, and Anna Hope's clear use of demure obedience to cloak Regina's self-interested agenda.
Helen Weir's presents Mrs Alving's dilemmas clearly, if through rather obvious gestures of acting technique, while Frank Ellis catches Engstrand's slyness more than his malevolence. Oswald is a tough act to bring off, nearer even to a 'viewpoint character' than Manders, but Andrew Cryer simplifies the outlines rather than colouring them subtly in.
But the main limitation is a production that lets the performers move towards the actorly - arm gestures, glances away from other characters - signs of generalised expression of emotions rather than something coming fresh from the moment.
Regina Engstrand: Anna Hope
Jacob Engstrand; Frank Ellis
Pastor Manders; Chris Barnes
Mrs Helene Alving: Helen Weir
Oswald Alving Andrew Cryer
Director: Hannah Chissick
Designer; Philip Witcomb
Lighting: Paul Sheard
Assistant director: Phil Lowe
2004-10-24 18:10:16