Light and Hope Snuffed Out
Ghosts, which opened this week at the Sam Wanamaker Theatre, is dark in every sense of the word. When Ibsen wrote the play it was considered too scandalous for anything but private clubs. Its themes of incest and venereal disease made it ‘production non grata’, writes Katie Kelly.
In a different age, where these issues are less shocking to audiences and critics alike, there is more opportunity to get beyond the sexual scandal to consider what was truly subversive in this play: its criticism of bourgeois manners and cover ups, hypocritical religion and the oppression of the patriarchy.
The action all takes place in the Alving family home following the death of the ‘man of the house’, Captain Alving. This bereavement offers a brief glimmer of hope and an opportunity for a new start to his widow, which is completely snuffed out by the end of the tragedy.
This small and candlelit theatre lends itself naturally to the claustrophobia of this family, which is so turned in on itself.
Sarah Slimani as Regine, the family maid, opens the action by slowly lighting the candelabras whilst fending off the rather slimy character of her adoptive father, who has plans to pimp her out in his so called ‘home’ for sailor’s rest home. Despite having less obvious agency than almost any other character, Regine remains the bringer of what feeble light there is to both stage and production. Her self-possessed presence as the maid-turned-heiress, is powerful from beginning to end.
The central performance of Hattie Morahan as Helene Alving is initially buoyant, witty and fizzing with energy. As the story ploughs on and more secrets are unveiled. Her precious son cannot be rescued from the fate visited on him by his father’s disease and the only choice that remains is whether to hasten his end and honour his desperate request for release from humiliating suffering. Eventually, the ghosts of the past overwhelm her in their shadows and rob her of all hope.
This production has done a good job of immersing us in personal tragedy at the expense of exploring the political implications. The sordid, purple, shag pile carpet which covers the stage almost physically absorbs the protagonists and eventually the ideas. The sound is clever and sparse though a misjudged gong provoked rather strange laughter at a point of maximum tragedy. The mirrored backdrop deftly reflects the characters back to us and themselves and accidentally symbolises a slight tendency to self-absorption in the admittedly clever direction of Joe Hill-Gibbons.
Sam Wanamaker Playhouse, 21 New Globe Wharf, Bankside, SE1 9DT until 28th January. Times: Varied – See website. Admission: £5 – £65.
Booking: www.shakespearesglobe.com
