THE MASTER BUILDER: Malvern till 24 May, tour, then Albery London from June
THE MASTER BUILDER: Henrik Ibsen
Rod Dungate reviews the opening at Malvern
Touring
Runs 2h 30m, 2 intervals
Review: 20 May 2003
Beautifully played, tragic, painful but made possible to bear
In the middle of Act III young and vibrant Hilda Wangel, the unexpected guest within the Solness household, says after a conversation with Mrs Solness 'I feel as if I've walked out of a tomb.' She could be speaking of the entire play-world: the world Ibsen creates in this play is bleak, sad, bereft of love. It might appear at first sight as if ambition has created this in part it has, in part it is created by guilt as well. The past is ever loomingly present, a hopeful future, it would seem, almost unobtainable. Triumph, when it comes, is dark and terrible.
Gloomy or what?!
However director Anthony Page and his team pull off a considerable coup: they make the play bearable through the sheer simplicity, the beautiful delicacy of their playing. A calm surface, turbulence beneath. We are quietly invited in to watch these people's private hells worked through.
Solness is the master builder, terrified that he will be replaced by younger men. Wracked with guilt that he willed the burning down of his family home in order to build his career. His wife is destroyed by guilt because her children died while she was gripped with depression after the fire. Solness feels this is his fault too. Hilda appears, bright youthful, full of hope, to engage with the great architect she remembers from her childhood. But Solness is a shell, seeking to keep alive his youth through liaisons with young women. Ibsen's play is complex, many-layered, an onion unpeeled as the play progresses.
Patrick Stewart is a terrific actor. Here he struts arrogantly then splits apart revealing his vulnerability. At times he bursts with energy at others deflated with weariness. He is like a light-bulb that burns fiercely then dims before our eyes. Yet within this he can reveal a gentle (and welcome) vein of humour; we laugh easily, our tension eased but the play's tension retained.
Nowhere is the religious oppression clearer than in Sue Johnston's exhausted character. This character we see flicker into light only occasionally she says to Hilda 'I want us to be friends': these magic moments really tell in Johnston's performance. She convinces us there is a little hope for Aline Solness, the tragedy is that that hope is not fulfilled.
Lisa Dillon's Hilda is totally engaging. Hilda is both saviour and avenger. We sense the danger in her, but Dillon plays Hilda with such youthful charm we cannot (indeed should not) apportion blame. This is not an easy role to pull off, but Dillon achieves it, flags flying.
Page has orchestrated a lovely production. I'm not certain the ending entirely works but I think the problem here is more Ibsen's than anyone else's. The middle act is marvellous: starting from its understated base it quickly burst into fierce flame, to smoulder then flash again. The production is a fitting metaphor for the play itself.
Knut Brovik: Edward de Souza
Kaia Fosli: Katherine Manners
Ragnar Brovik: Andrew Scarborough
Halvard Solness: Patrick Stewart
Aline Solness: Sue Johnston
Doctor Herdal: Jonathan Hackett
Hilda Wangel: Lisa Dillon
Director: Anthony Page
Adaptation: John Logan
Set: Hildegard Bechtler
Costumes: Deirdre Clancy
Lighting: Howard Harrison
Sound: John Leonard
Assistant Director: Bronwen Carr
2003-05-21 10:42:09