Some people have a thing for wearing rubber, some get their kicks from illegally parenting exotic animals, yoga or even swingers parties. But in director Simon Stone’s case, his fetish seems to be re-writing and contemporising old plays.
His latest effort
The Wild Duck, a take on Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen’s 1884 classic of the same name, dabbles in this same preoccupation. Without taking anything away from the performances, the skill in which it takes to re-write a play or direct said play, I was left wondering what purpose did the production serve? Why not start from scratch and use the obvious skills at hand to write something new? Or at least call it something else and claim the original as inspiration?
As a story, there isn’t really anything an Australian audience hasn’t seen before either in film or on stage. Its familiarity is almost to a point where the drama can be seen coming a mile away, before it hits us with another incredulous “What!?” from one of the characters. In saying that though, the narrative is still powerful in its tragedy. A family torn apart by secrets and betrayal will always be a relevant and potent source of drama, which in this case couldn’t have been put into the hands of a more capable cast of actors.
The acting chops wielded in Stone’s
Wild Duck are razor sharp. The steep downward spiral of
Ewan Leslie’s Hjelmar is mapped with precision and a genuine rawness. Although, I wonder if Stone’s significantly shorter adaptation of
The Duck rushed Hjelmar’s tragedy. Anita Hegh’s Gina is a perfect match to Leslie’s Hjelmar. From the beginning you get the sense she is full of something hidden, bordering on an emotional tipping point. Schmidtz’s Gregers is played with the necessary flatness and purpose needed to execute his role as harbinger of secrets, and the rest of the cast are just as impressive with Anthony Phelan in particular, well deserved of his 2011 Helpmann and Sydney Theatre awards.
Stone and his entire
Wild Duck crew are an undeniably talented group of people. Their latest work is of an exceptionally high quality and a strong indication of where all Australian theatre should be aiming to reach. However, at what point will the dusting off an old text and giving it the ol’ modern translation shtick reach its end? Do we not have enough stories of our own to tell? Do we not have enough tragedy and drama to draw upon for the creation of truly original works? Anyway, I don’t want to end this piece in a slightly negative and open-ended way, because
The Wild Duck is definitely more than worth a look. If you get your kicks out of experiencing an engaging and gripping drama dealt out by a cast of exceptional actors, then give the Malthouse a call and get your arse in a seat.
WORDS: Nick Jamieson