Rosmersholm

by Henrik Ibsen

seen at the Duke of York's Theatre on 29 May 2019

Ian Rickson directs Hayley Atwell as Rebecca West and Tom Burke as John Rosmer in Duncan Macmillan's new adaptation of Ibsen's play, with Lucy Briers as Mrs Helseth (the housekeeper), Giles Terera as Andreas Kroll (Rosmer's brother-in-law), Peter Wight as Ulrik Brendel (Rosmer's former tutor) and Jake Fairbrother as Peter Mortensgaard (a newspaper editor).

In classic Ibsen style the oppressive traditions of a family dynasty, the Rosmers of Rosmersholm, weigh heavily on Pastor John Rosmer, now living in the vast family mansion in mourning for his sick wife who leapt into the nearby millrace in despair (apparently) at not being able to bear children to carry on the family name. Rebecca West, sent by Kroll to be a companion to his sister in her illness, is still living in Rosmersholm, a soulmate and intellectual sparring partner of John Rosmer, a woman with an uncertain past who threatens Kroll's comfortable sense of masculine superiority. 

But there is more than simmering family dynamics here - there is a political situation as well. Kroll has not visited the house since his sister's death, but now he needs Rosmer's endorsement in the imminent elections for the governorship, in order to counter the scurrilous populists encouraged by Mortensgaard's gutterpress Lighthouse newspaper. Kroll proposes that Rosmer should become the nominal editor of the Tribune which he and his supporters have just purchased. He is astounded to discover that Rosmer wishes to remain neutral, and appalled even more when the Pastor confesses that he has lost his faith. Naturally he concludes that this is Rebecca's fault.

The free-spirited Rebecca, passionate about her right to think for herself and to control her destiny, is an obvious foil to Kroll, a man so convinced of the rightness of his views that he discounts the fact that his wife and children profoundly disagree with him. But as usual, Ibsen shows the damage idealism can cause as well as its allure - Brendel, an old tutor who doubtless first sowed the seeds of intellectual enquiry in the young Rosmer, is now a disreputable sponger, while Rebecca herself has to face unsuspected facts about her past which are truly awful: her intellectual mentor was more than he had seemed.

Rosmer, encouraged at first to break free from the legacy of his family, finds little solace in adventurous idealism as he loses Kroll's esteem and finds even Mortensgaard precipitately keen to drop him when he realises that an apostate pastor is of no use to his cause. And of course, to add to the ironies, it was Rosmer in his earlier days who had ruined Mortensgaard's life by publicly denouncing his adultery. He also finds Rebecca an enigma to the last, and the conventional solution of marrying her is not one that she can countenance.

All this and more is superbly supported in Rae Smith's design for this production. The horror of the house is emphasised by its grey walls studded with family portraits (at first gloomily covered by grey cloths). The light pouring in from the windows reveals a chilly atmosphere. Rosmer's abandoned faith is cleverly signified when his study is revealed: the wallpaper (silvery grey of course) is faded except for where a cross must once have stood against it: now just the outline remains, and above it another painting (of his wife? of a religious subject?) has also been removed, leaving a darker patch.

Hayley Atwell imbues Rebecca with fierce passion and a self-confidence which scandalises the more conventional Kroll - and perhaps the loyal housekeeper Mrs Helseth too - but the character's nervous tension is finely drawn, making her sudden collapse at Kroll's revelations all the more convincing. Tom Burke's Rosmer is also excellently done, a man of ideals finally trapped by the vast gulf between idealism and the day-to-day grind of life. These two carry the passionate weight of the play with complete ease.

Cogent political points are easy to score in today's climate where questions of personal responsibility for political views are all too relevant: the jibes at the ignorance of the voting population and the manipulations of a cynical press were all too resonant. But at the same time the dangers of self-indulgence on the part of the idealistic John Rosmer and Rebecca West were wonderfully intimated by the constant presence of silent servants performing their duties - moving furniture, bringing in flowers or candles, providing Rosmer with his house clothes or his outdoor gear - but also listening stupefied or nervously intrigued as their 'betters' sound off about personal freedom and economic improvement.

The power of Ibsen' vision, unflinchingly revealing that nothing can be just black or just white in this complex world of women and men, was fully evident in this fine production.