Ghosts
Reviewed by Deborah Klugman
Odyssey Theatre Ensemble
Thru October 23
Plays we now regard as classics aren’t always well-received when they debut. Like The Birthday Party (reviewed on this site in June), Henrik Ibsen’s Ghosts was much disparaged when it appeared in 1881— not for being too cryptic, which was the complaint lodged against Pinter, but for being salacious and grossly offensive. Launched in book form before it was staged (as was often the custom at that time), Ghosts stirred widespread indignation for taking on taboo topics like free love, euthanasia and venereal disease, the latter an especially hush-hush matter among that era’s “genteel” classes. Embarrassed booksellers returned huge numbers of unsold copies to the publisher, and theaters in Scandinavia declined to stage the play until, in 1882, it premiered in Chicago (!) to an immigrant audience at a community playhouse. A decade later the play was banned in Britain; the Daily Telegraph critic who viewed its sole performance at a private club characterized it as “a loathsome sore unbandaged,” and “a dirty act done publicly,” among other displeasing descriptions.
None of this surprised Ibsen, who’d anticipated the negative response but was so committed to exposing the social evils embedded in the narrative that he refused to be daunted. When the King of Sweden complained to him about the play, Ibsen responded that he “had to write it.”
Times have changed, and venereal disease, now curable, is no longer the dirty secret it once was, any more than sex outside marriage is still looked upon (at least in most quarters) as damnable sin. And while the unfettered right to die doesremain controversial, nowadays the terminally ill do get to make end-of-life choices.
But Ibsen’s main targets —hypocrisy, self-delusion, a small-minded tendency to judge others, and to relish that judgment — are with us still and likely to remain so. His conviction that all of us bear a responsibility for the world’s ills remains a constant. One has only to look at our botched handling of climate change and the now ravaged state of our planet to mourn his insight.
Directed by Bart DeLorenzo, the current production at the Odyssey Theatre reprises stage director Richard Eyre’s adaptation, which premiered in 2015 to widespread praise for its tailored text and contemporary language (and the lead performance by British actress, Lesley Manville). Ghosts’ main character, Helene (Pamela J. Gray) is the widow of a man she honors publicly — she’s in the process of funding an orphanage in his honor — while concealing the truth about her miserable marriage and her dead husband’s profligacy. She undertakes this subterfuge not only for the public but also for the benefit of her now grown son Oswald (Alex Barlas), who believes his father to have been a splendid man. An artist living abroad, Oswald’s returned home for a visit, where he’s taken a fancy to Helene’s saucy young maid Regina (Viva Hassis Gentes), the daughter of an unsavory sailor, Jacob Engstrand (J. Stephen Brantley), who wants to spirit her away from Helene’s household and exploit her for his own purposes
The thematic meat of the play takes place in lengthy scenes between Helene and her current advisor and former schoolmate, Reverend Manders (Barry Del Sherman). An unflinchingly dour moralist, Manders disapproves of the books he discovers in Helene’s study — which contain feminist and other progressive ideas — while also passing judgement on Helene’s life in its entirety, mainly because she once left her husband to seek refuge with him, whom she secretly loved from their schooldays. Everything Manders espouses is founded on a concern for appearances: It is he who suggests that she not insure the orphanage. His cockamamie reasoning is that ensuring this expensive undertaking might reflect badly on himself and his church — that a project he is involved with should appear to be automatically protected by God. Inexplicably, the more enlightened Helene overcomes her doubts and acquiesces.
While Ibsen’s themes remain relevant, some of the plot points, like this one, are a bit creaky and contrived, even when softened by Eyre’s more colloquial dialogue. This makes it extra important for the actors involved to deliver nuanced performances; a dazzling portrayal always helps suspend disbelief.
On press night, however, there were no such transcendences. Notwithstanding a couple of volatile moments, each performance registered for me as a component of plot and theme rather than an independent, deeply rooted portrayal. As the Reverend, Sherman in particular was exceedingly one-note. Yes, his character is a prig, but this is also a man who attracts both Helene and the young Regina, each of whom curries for his favor or embrace. Why is this? One should see the answer evidenced in a look or mannerism —something to make us wonder what conflicts or sensual impulses might transpire beneath his stern exterior to draw these women to him.
As Helene, Gray strives for a dignified vulnerability, but again, the sum of what this character has lived through was, the night I attended, only thinly conveyed. Brantley’s ill-boding Engstrand, Gentes’ flirtatious, upward-striving Regina and Barlas’s deeply troubled Oswald were only partly realized in their work-in-progress performances. (I’ll temper that with kudos for Barlas’s intense disturbing physicality in the final scene.)
Scenic designer Frederica Nascimento’s off-putting expressionistic set divides into sections representing the various rooms in Helene’s home. Two of the walls feature a green scrawl whose import is unclear. Also enigmatic is the white rectangular object (most distracting) that suspends from the ceiling throughout; only toward the end when it is lowered did I realize it was meant to symbolize the orphanage and/or Helene’s hopes.
Lighting (Christine Ferriter) is tenebrous except for the cathartic illumination (glowingly effective) at the end; I thought overall it could have been brighter to better see the actors’ faces. Costumer Lena Sands’ choice to garb Oswald in a bathrobe seemed to disempower the character from the start. Helene’s attire blends with the set but it might have been more complimentary to the performer. John Zalewski’s sound provides apt shading for this dark ominous tale.
Odyssey Theatre Ensemble, 2055 S. Sepulveda Blvd., West L.A.; Fri.-Sat., Mon., 8 pm, Sun., 4 pm; thru Oct. 23. https://OdysseyTheatre.com Running time: approximately 90 minutes with no intermission
