I came to the opening night of Ghosts with high expectations, and even higher spirits. This was the first play I had read as a young teenager that had really emotionally touched me. I read it one evening, late into the night, peering into the Norwegian suffocating gloom, becoming more and more entangled with the characters’ fiercely quiet despair, swerving with revelations from the past, pulled through by achingly sad familial love. It was the first time I had cried in response to fiction, before Stepmom, before Untouchable, etc, etc. Perhaps it even paved the way for me to study English Literature at University. A pretty high-pressure precursor to the performance at any rate, and I sat down eagerly to inhale the foggy fjords.
The set, based on Edvard Munch’s stage designs from 1906, atmospherically captures the heavy grey atmosphere of rural Norway. Rolling wispy and brooding clouds are projected onto a back panel screen, and the sound of rain drizzles over most of the dialogue of the first half. Lighting was cramped and gloomy, beautifully illuminating Pastor Manders’ quick, foolish morality. The use of smoke was brilliant, with it misting in through any open door, letting dampness permeate the house.
Still that is where I have to step back from total praise. Ibsen’s play was originally met with public shock, as the content was contemporarily seen to be highly scandalous. In order for the play to work for modern audiences, aspects of the play such as extramarital sex, need to be treated gently in order for the subtle emotional strain to pierce through. However, I felt the tone of this performance was more of melodrama; lots of Sally Field in Brothers and Sisters style anguished gaping as Oswald Alving flounces around like a stroppy pirate, all of which turns the audiences’ reading of the play into a more farcical interpretation. My neighbour chortling loudly every time the word ‘ghosts’ was mentioned with wide-eyed emphasis exhibited this. I still thoroughly enjoyed the performance, and would encourage anyone to go and see Ibsen’s work; theatre goers who wish to see tender tragedy, bear in mind that any misting of the eye from this performance may simply originate from the smoke machine.