Nora Helmer, in the person of Jessica Chastain, sits on the bare stage of the Hudson Theatre, in a bare chair, and observes her surroundings. Audience members take their seats, finding Chastain—or is it Nora, before the action of the play starts?—observing them as they remove their coats. Round and round she goes on a turntable, readjusting her gaze to the newcomers again and again, observing all (and one hopes the production has a chiropractor on staff, given her uncomfortable slump). This being Broadway 2023, the star is confronted with a barrage of smartphones flashing, filming, and selfie-ing; so much for audience decorum.
Chastain silently observes as her castmates, one by one, slip on in the darkness and grab chairs of their own. Once director Jamie Lloyd launches from the preshow into Amy Herzog’s new adaptation of Ibsen’s A Doll’s House, Chastain’s Nora continues to observe the action surrounding her: a true doll—or “Birdie,” as husband Torvald (Arian Moayed) repeatedly addresses her. While Ibsen’s Nora traditionally starts the proceedings talking about Christmas decorations, the “little bird’s” first words here—in Herzog’s streamlined but very much to the point adaptation—are, and I quote, “tweet, tweet, tweet.”
Not only is Nora stuck in the middle of it all, observing, but Lloyd keeps her mostly rooted in that chair through the entire play—until she gets up and leaves husband-children-and-existence to storm out into the night, with what an 1899 London drama critic called “the door slam heard around the world.” Those words ring true well more than a century later; that drama critic, a young George Bernard Shaw, had a way with words.
[Read Frank Scheck’s ★★☆☆☆ review here.]
Which we only bring up because the bare stage that confronts us at the Hudson might leave viewers familiar with Ibsen’s play sitting and wondering how on earth Lloyd is going to have Nora slam that legendary door—without anything save the rear wall of the stage in sight!
How does A Doll’s House fare without all that scenery, without the walls that usually define this doll’s (Nora’s) house and figuratively crush her. Lloyd and lighting designer Jon Clark manage to do so highly effectively, framing the scenes in various rectangles of light. Clark’s work is especially stand-out; two late scenes between Nora and Krogstad make stunning use of overpowering silhouettes, to the extent that they could even startle old Dr. Caligari. If the scenery by Soutra Gilmour (of & Juliet and the recent Merrily We Roll Along) is all but invisible to the eye, she remains a key collaborator with a key contribution. Rarely has a lighting bridge played such an integral role in the staging of a play.
The lack of trappings serves to focus our attention on the dialogue. Herzog has trimmed the play of excessive dramaturgy without losing Ibsen’s effectiveness, handily getting us out of the theatre in less than two hours instead of what typically approaches three. Sure, the play—which still takes place in 1879—now has 21st century dialogue that is, presumably, not strictly translated from old Henrik. (Nora to Dr. Rank: “I’m just bursting to say—fuck it all.”) Even so, Herzog seems true to the original intent while refreshing and enlivening the proceedings.
Chastain is quite good in the role, with a caveat discussed below. She is abetted by two especially strong performances. Michael Patrick Thornton, who was one of the only compelling aspects of the recent Daniel Craig Macbeth, commands the stage as Dr. Rank, with special resonance as he addresses his character’s fatal illness. Okieriete Onaodowan, who essayed the twin roles of Hercules Mulligan and James Madison in the original cast of Hamilton, makes a Krogstad to contend with. Chastain’s Nora, and the play, come alive in her scenes with these subordinate characters. The action is dampened, alas, by the performance of Moayed. Yes, Torvald is the weakest of the central characters surrounding our heroine, but that doesn’t justify a weak performance. Moayed dissipates the tension during the key final exchange that literally drives Nora out of her cage.
The cast is completed by Jesmille Darbouze as a subdued Kristine and Tasha Lawrence as the nanny. Lloyd sees fit to present the play without the three children called for by Ibsen (and included in Herzog’s script, for that matter). This is somewhat understandable, in that it would be admittedly difficult to seamlessly bring the kids on and off and on and off in the confines of the stark, scenery-less production. But the emotional pain of Nora’s ultimate sacrifice of her children seems lessened by their corporeal absence, with disembodied voices over the loudspeaker only enhancing the problem.
Chastain is altogether admirable and will perhaps be in the running for additional accolades to place beside her 2022 Oscar for The Eyes of Tammy Faye. It’s heartening to see the Juilliard-trained actor’s commitment to bringing this production to Broadway. (Intended for London’s Playhouse in 2020, it was displaced by the pandemic.) But, a constantly revived play such as A Doll’s House carries a built-in test for a star. Two of the most compelling Ibsen performances New York has seen over the recent past were Janet McTeer’s Tony-winning Nora in 1997 and the decidedly different but equally dynamic Nora of Hattie Morahan at BAM in 2014. Chastain’s Nora works perfectly well at the Hudson, but it is unlikely to enter into the discussion. Comparisons are unfair, cold and uncalled for, yes; but after watching Chastain’s Doll’s House, I’d jump at the chance to revisit McTeer or Morahan.
When the time finally arrives for Nora to slam that door with no door in sight, Lloyd and Gilmour have a stunningly abrupt solution which will likely leave you agape. Nothing Mr. Ibsen would have or could have imagined; but for Herzog’s adaptation, and for the 2023 audience at the Hudson off Times Square, it is a jolt that indeed honors—and contemporizes—the playwright’s door slam heard round the world.
A Doll’s House opened March 9, 2023, at the Hudson Theatre and runs through June 10. Tickets and information: adollshousebroadway.com
