The Wild Duck, Shakespeare Theatre Company, Klein Theatre, Washington, DC
Maalke Laanstra-Corn as Hedvig, David Patrick Kelly as Old Elving, Nick Westtrate as Hjalmar, Melanie Field as Gina, and Alexander Hurr as Gregers in The Wild Duck at Shakespeare Theatre Company, Photo credit: Gerry Goodstein,
We spend a lot of time these days questioning “truth.” We have been told that there are “alternative facts” and that “fake news” is rampant. Many of us have learned to question the veracity of information we receive and to bring into question the credibility of those who share that information, even when there is incontrovertible evidence that what is said is wholly truthful.
“The truth will set you free” is an often-quoted maxim most
of us have grown up hearing. It never occurred to me to try to trace the
metamorphosis of that phrase, but I now know that it is Biblical. In the New
Testament, the Gospel of John (8:32) quotes Jesus as saying, “Then you will
know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” Here, “the truth” is
expressed in spiritual terms, but we recognize that “truth” exists in other
terms as well.
I would imagine that most (if not all) of us have shaded the
truth or told “little white lies” in order to spare someone else’s feelings. In
other words, honesty may not well be the best policy in every instance.
This dichotomy is at the core of Henrik Ibsen’s The Wild
Duck, currently onstage at Shakespeare Theatre Company’s Klein Theatre, in
an adaptation by David Eldridge. Written in 1884, The Wild Duck is not
produced nearly as often as the Norwegian playwright’s more famous plays: Ghosts,
Hedda Gabler, and A Doll’s House. While truth may not be the core
concept of those plays, it is certainly a major theme.
Alexander Hurt as Gregers and Nick Westrate as Hjalmar in The Wild Duck. Photo credit: Gerry Goodstein.
I remember a quote from a text in graduate school (over 40 years ago) that “Modern Drama is dated from the 1880s, when Ibsen began writing in the realistic mode,” or something very close to that. Ibsen “set the stage,” so to speak, for playwrights like the Swedish August Strindberg and Russian Anton Chekhov, whose Uncle Vanya STC produced so beautifully last season.
Numerous books have been written defining and defending
realism. At its core, the focus is on “everyday” characters from various social
classes in “real life” situations, speaking in unadorned prose, in a setting
where the “fourth wall” has been removed, allowing us to witness what happens
there. The characters’ actions are psychologically motivated and the subject
matter is often socially significant.
The opening scene of The Wild Duck takes place in the
home of the wealthy Håkon Werle and suggests that the play will revolve around the
relationship between the wealthy Håkon and his prodigal son, Gregers, who has
been welcomed home with a party. Gregers has invited an old friend, Hjalmar
Ekdal, to the party. Out of touch for many years, Gregers learns that Hjalmar
has married and has been assisted in setting up a business as a photographer by
Håkon, something he thinks is very uncharacteristic of his father. It is
apparent that Hjalmar is not of the same social class as the other party guests.
After he leaves, Håkon offers his son the opportunity to take over the
operations of his company. Disgusted with his father’s way of life, Gregers
refuses.
The remaining scenes of the play take place in the barn-like
home of Hjalmar, his wife Gina, and their daughter Hedvig. Hjalmar calls Hedvig
his greatest joy and biggest heartbreak, for the young teen is losing her
eyesight. The appearance is that the family of three is getting by, but just
barely. Hjalmar’s father, Old Ekdal, once a great hunter, has a room in the
apartment as well. He is a former business partner to Håkon who has previously
been imprisoned, taking the fall for misdeeds actually committed by Håkon. Old
Ekdal works as an occasional copier for Håkon for meager wages. He keeps
rabbits, pigeons, and other birds in the loft joining the apartment, where he
occasionally “hunts.” Hedvig is tending to a wild duck that had been shot and
injured by Håkon, nursing it back to health. We learn that it is the habit of
wild ducks who are dying to dive to the deepest part of the water in order to
die alone. This duck was “rescued” by one of Håkon’s dogs and brought to the
surface.
Nick Westrate as Hjalmar and Maaike Laanstra-Corn as Hedvig in The Wild Duck. Photo credit: Gerry Goodstein.
Gregers recognizes Gina as having been a housekeeper for his
parents prior to his mother’s death. Because his mother believed that her
husband was interested in Gina, she was let go. Gregers begins to piece
together a number of clues to determine that Hjalmar’s and Gina’s marriage is
based on lies, all of which can be traced to his father. Gregers expects that
the revelation of this truth will be welcomed news for the couple. Relling, a
doctor who lives in an apartment beneath the Ekdals, calls Gregers’s laser
focus on truth “chronic righteousness,” which he suggests is a national
problem. Sometimes, Relling says, we need to believe what he calls a “life lie”
in order to survive. Indeed, by the end of the play a number of lives have been
forever altered.
Some critics have termed the play a “tragicomedy.” Its focus
is on serious events, but there are many moments of unexpected humor that
prevent the play from becoming tragic. Simon Godwin directs with a commitment
to both the tragic and the comedic, powerfully using both to build the
intensity of the performance.
The cast is led by Nick Westrate, giving a stellar
performance as Hjalmar. Hjalmar undergoes tremendous changes, which Westrate perfectly
captures, from the almost-giddy happiness with Gina and Hedvig to the outrage
and pain as his “life lie” is destroyed. I missed Westrate’s recent STC
performance in Frankenstein but vividly recall his outstanding work in
his Helen Hayes-winning role as Prior Walter in Arena Stage’s Angels in
America: Part One in 2023. He is an actor worth watching.
Alexander Hurt is a resolutely and relentlessly committed
advocate for truth in his role as the pious Gregers. Melanie Field is the soul
of sympathetic patience as Gina, heart-breaking as she must reveal certain
events in her past. Robert Stanton as Håkon provides a good counterbalance to Hurt’s
Gregers in their scenes together, managing to evoke some consideration despite
the duplicity of his character’s wrongdoing. Maaike Laanstra-Corn creates a delicate and
loving Hedvig, trying to understand the drastic changes in her life and
desperate to retain Hjalmar’s love.
David Patrick Kelly makes memorable, often very funny
appearances as Old Ekdal, energetically embodying the man with a certain
dignity while also losing his touch with reality. Matthew Saldívar
as Dr. Relling brings gravitas and moral authority to his role. Katie Broad as Patterson,
Mahira Kakkar as Mrs. Sorby, Bobby Plasencia as Mr. Flor, and Alexander
Sovronsky as Jensen contribute excellent work in supporting roles. Sovronsky,
who also serves as musical director, aids the proceedings by playing Norwegian folk and classical music on the violin
during transitions between scenes, adding to the authenticity of the setting and period.
Melanie Field as Gina and Alexander Hurt as Gregers in The Wild Duck. Photo credit: Gerry Goodstein.
I have mixed feelings about Andew Boyce’s scenic design. The
opening of the play takes place in Håkon’s well-to-do home, but it was sparely
furnished and backed by what appeared to be an almost cartoon-like background.
On the other hand, the Ekdals’ apartment worked much better, its spareness and
neutral colors successfully suggesting the austerity of the family’s
circumstances. Heather C. Freeman’s costume designs make use, for the most
part, of the same neutral colors in contrast to the brighter, more elaborate
costumes worn by the wealthier characters, especially in the first act. Stacey
Derosier’s lighting design unobtrusively incorporates oil lamps as well as a
skylight in the apartment. The sound design by Darron L West is subtly
effective.
Washington area audiences are unlikely to find a more
satisfying performance of this significant play. See it before it closes on November
16.
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