For most people, the appeal of An Enemy of the People, Sam Gold and Amy Herzog’s Broadway adaptation of Henrik Ibsen’s play, is not the chance to see a lesser-known work by the Norwegian playwright updated for the present day, but the chance to see Jeremy Strong. Through the Scene, the former Kendall Roy sheds his imposing and earnest image as Succession’s former No. 1 boy with a solemn, provocative morality play—or, more accurately, drowns it, as promotional materials show him submerged in the bathtub. in the etiquette of the distant past.
Relating to: ‘No theater on a dead planet’: climate activists disrupt Jeremy Strong Broadway show
Still, there are traces of HBO’s daily political drama in this 19th-century tale of competing agendas. While Strong is more moral as Thomas Stockmann, a country doctor who discovers dangerous microbes in the water system of a small Norwegian town, he portrays a lone wolf in a tense sibling rivalry on an inevitable crusade. He suspects that the bacteria, which (for now) need advanced scientific tools to detect, are partly the product of toxic runoff from new industrial tanneries owned by his father-in-law (David Patrick Kelly); The almost certain possibility of toxic infection – or worse, bad public relations – endangers the town’s healthy hot springs and thus its local economy; both are overseen by his brother Peter (a splendid Michael Imperioli), who is the mayor.
This is all clearly stated; Herzog, who adapted Ibsen’s classic A Doll’s House for Broadway with Jessica Chastain last year, is less interested in the flow of facts than in how they can be distorted by others and our modern sensibilities. Once again, Strong commands a dialogue of blinkered enthusiasm that turns into elitist disgust; because his open warning is torn apart by other immediate, personal concerns – the economic impact of a two-to-three-year shutdown on tradesmen, as Razor Aslaksen (Thomas Jay Ryan) says. – The low profit margins for a local newspaper dependent on happy subscribers, the pride in declaring the town a 19th-century superfund site, the fact that no one has gotten this sick yet. Feelings about facts, circa 1882. “Are you serious?!” Dr Stockmann tells a bewildered townsman in smug disbelief: For a moment you see the nepo baby of the 21st century recklessly declaring his way or failure. (The play is funnier than you might expect for such bleak matters; there’s some mockery of Dr. Stockmann’s tiny, invented “invisible animals.” Matthew August Jeffers, as the flimsy liberal Billing, is a comic highlight.)
Herzog and Gold want you to think about the present, though not in such a specific or condescending way. On the propulsive stage in the Circle at the Square Theatre, Gold deftly directed this version to seem old-timey; The natural design created by the mass points evokes the Scandinavian elite; bespoke dishes, inherited cutlery, the illumination of oil lamps used as natural, evocative transitions. (I should note that even in the 19th-century suit designed by David Zinn, Strong still wears all brown.) But Herzog changed the text significantly. There are superficial changes; Dr. Stockmann is now a widower, the flat character of his wife Katherine now joined by that of his devoted, overburdened daughter Petra (You are Victoria Pedretti), a teacher and devoted supporter, although this part is still both in the text and It also means only a supporting role in the performance.
And there are not-so-subtle intonations intended to appeal to our modern thicket of competing loyalties, psychic bargaining, and political entanglements; The basic, frightening truth is that we all act by feeling as much, if not more, than by reasoning. You might as well be wrong when you’re right – a frustrated Dr. The famous passage in which Stockmann compares the fitness of mutts to purebred poodles to prove his point as a scientist was changed and forwarded to newspaper editor Hovstad. Black actor Caleb Eberhardt takes on the air of not only supremacy but also eugenics.
This speech is given with the lights on, with Strong standing on top of the bar, used as a break, the audience mingled with the townsfolk; It will be a stage decision as clear and certainly polarizing as any call of the present. It may seem tacky (it’s obviously sponsored by Linie, a Scandinavian spirit; the music for the transitions is performed by actors singing Norwegian folk songs). But there is something to be said for erasing the line between stage and stands, spotlight and shadow, artist and audience, for seeing the reaction on the faces (wide-eyed shock, grimace, gasp) of people who know just as well what needs to be done. Come as you are. Just because a point is so prominent doesn’t make it any less salient (though that may be overlooked by climate activists who have disrupted recent demonstrations).
Whether such directness succeeds in conveying anything beyond the excitement of the live performance – as expected, the cascading second half is indicative of Strong’s ability to portray a man on the brink – is perhaps up to the viewer. The dialogue appliqué, clearly evoking our current denial of 1880s Norway, is sometimes jarring, sometimes touching, but in the hands of some seasoned actors and gripping staging, at least good New York theatre.