We don’t book many classic revivals, but we tend to make an exception for Ibsen if it is a play one or both of us hasn’t seen before. Plus, if it is the Almeida, we tend to trust the place to deliver a classic well and with a modern enough feel.
As was the case with this superb production.
We were a little concerned that it might be a luvvie-fest for Gemma Arterton. But she proved well up to her task and the universally high-quality cast worked extremely well as an ensemble.
It was a well-pacey production; an-hour-and–three-quarters straight through, the extra pace worked well with this play. An object lesson for some of the ponderously long, drawn-out productions of early 20th century plays.
The reviews were pretty much universally good and most are linked through the above resource, but this search term – click here – should find reviews independently for you.
Janie and I really like a bit of Ibsen. In some ways that is odd, in Janie’s case, as she tends to prefer modern plays and eschew classics. But she makes an exception for some classics; not least Ibsen, Strindberg and to some extent Chekhov.
Anyway, Rosmersholm is rarely performed and here was a production at one of our favourite theatres with a stellar cast and production team.
It’s hard to explain why this play is so rarely performed. In some ways Rosmersholm is über-Ibsen; it seems to throw in a lot of Ibsen’s favourite political, social and moral themes all at once. But then most of his great plays do that. Perhaps it is über-gloomy.
So although this was a superb night at the theatre, with wonderful performances and a truly top-notch production, we didn’t end up thinking that “everyone should see a great production of Rosmersholm” in the same way that we might say that about Hedda Gabler, Ghosts or A Dolls House, for example.
Still, a great theatrical event and right up our street.
The National production in 1997 was more “classic” Christopher Hampton adaptation with an exceptional cast including Sir Ian, Penny Downie, Stephen Moore, Lucy Whybrow and many others, directed by Trevor Nunn. The Theatricalia entry lists them all.
Nicholas de Jongh seemed quite taken with it…just “quite”:
Charles Spencer, like the others, made much of the fact that this was Trevor Nunn’s inaugural piece for the RNT. While not damning it, he does use the word “flash”:
We don’t often go to the theatre “at Twixtmas”, not least because you don’t get a lot of serious drama over that period. But in 1996 someone decided to transfer this superb Theatre Royal Bath production to London over the festive season.
I’m pretty sure it was on this occasion that Janie and I ran into Jacqui Somerville, who was in the audience but I think connected with someone or something to do with the production.
In my log, Janie and I declared this event to be an
…excellent production…
I do remember this production well and especially fondly. Anthony Page directed, Janet McTeer (who won multiple awards for this performance), Owen Teale and John Carlisle were in it. There is a Theatricalia entry for it.
Postscript
Jacqui Somerville was indeed there that evening – she reports and reminds me:
…a light blew that evening above the stage and Janet McTeer was a consummate professional. Giggled for ages then clicked back into character.
It was a superb production. I think I blagged the last seat in the house!
Nicholas de Jongh rated this production/London transfer very good and wrote highly of it:
This was a great production of great play. Paul Scofield as the big man, Vanessa Redgrave as the long-suffering wife, Eileen Atkins, Michael Bryant, a great supporting cast, Richard Eyre directing, what was not to like?
Janie doesn’t tend to like “classics” but tends to makes an exception for Ibsen. This production was no exception to her exception.
As is often the case, the Lyttleton did the play no favours, too big and set back for intimacy yet not quite big enough or shaped right to be the big stage. But when the only criticism one can muster is that, the fact is that this was a great night at the theatre and I am so glad we saw this production.
If my memory serves me correctly, we saw this play as a matinee on the Saturday and then Twelfth Night in the evening. It might have been the other way around.
Janie and I are fans of Ibsen for the moral dramas; this play is very different – a fantasy poem of sorts, although grounded in Ibsen’s family experience. Wikipedia explains the play well here.
But who needs experts? Janie and I thought it was a very good production, so it was just that. Alex Jennings memorable in the lea but well supported by the whole cast.
There’s nothing like a good production of an Ibsen play…
…and this was nothing like a good production of an Ibsen play.
It seemed like such a good idea at the time.
Janie and I had not yet seen any Ibsen play together and Janie had never seen Hedda Gabler and it was summer and the idea of theatre in the park sounded lovely.
This might have been the first time Janie and I “walked” together at half time.
On reminding Janie recently (December 2019) about this particular evening she simply said:
OMG it was dreadful
In truth, Janie and I had a tough search for a truly good Hedda. Richmond Theatre (previewing a West End Francesca Annis Hedda) in 1999 was a bit of a staid production. It wasn’t until 2005, Richard Eyre’s production at the Almeida (Eve Best as Hedda) that I thought Janie had seen a good enough production to be able to claim that we had both done Hedda.
So I’ve done four Heddas…in fact I think I might have seen a small town Hedda in my student days, making it five. As Judge Brack puts it:
What a super production this was. I remember being much taken with it, although, strangely, while I clearly recall seeing this with Bobbie, I did not recall Ashley joining us for this one. But the diary is clear:
I’m pretty sure this production was in the round and I remember feeling a sense of claustrophobia being so close to the action and the intense dilemmas and pain of the central characters.
This play, its morality and injustices came to my mind so many years later, in the late teenies, when the British gutter press started to brand anti-Brexit folk as “Enemies of the People”. Although I had seen a good production of the play subsequent to this 1988 production, it is Tom Wilkinson’s agonies, witnessed at close quarters so long ago, that sprang into my mind.
We three won’t simply have parted company at the doors of the Young Vic, that’s for sure. I’m guessing we might have taken a late meal at the Archduke or perhaps RSJs at that time. Anyone remember?
Postscript: Ashley Fletcher has chimed in to deny all involvement in this particular evening. The Ashley mention must have been Ashley Michaels, my (by then former) colleague from Newman Harris. I’ll pick Bobbie’s brain if/when I get the chance, but I suspect she’ll do that, “I can’t even remember what I did last week” routine.
Fortunately my subscription to the clippings service yields some retained memory – here is Michael ratcliffe’s Observer review:
