Ghosts – MTC

Overview

OMG Philip Quast! Sorry. We know that’s an undignified way to start a review of something as venerable as an MTC production of Henrik Ibsen but the sight of Quast on the posters for Ghosts has been exciting us for weeks. For those unfamiliar with him, Quast was the first man to play Javert in an Australian production of Les Miserables and his glorious stentorian voice has a special place in the hearts of theatre nerds nationwide.

In Ghosts he plays a tormented priest, which is just perfect, opposite Linda Cropper (Offspring) who delivers a commanding performance as embittered widow Helene Alving. The drama on stage is so thick you could carve it.

Ghosts is about as bleak a piece of theatre as you could wish for in your darkest hour. The widow Alving is sourly planning a memorial to her late husband, who she detested. Her maid (Pip Edwards), mistreated and manipulated by her drunken father (Richard Piper), schemes ruthlessly for advancement. Alving’s son (Ben Pfeiffer) is decaying with illness. Meanwhile Quast’s priest, Pastor Manders, scarce able to control his own tangle of emotions, savagely judges everyone else.

Every single character is in some way haunted by their past. The ghosts of the title are not supernatural spirits but the echoes of bygone deeds, the lasting damage done by  destructive people or obsolete ideas that continue to control people’s lives.

The play appalled critics when it was first performed in the 1880s. It was described as “revoltingly suggestive and blasphemous", “as foul and filthy a concoction as has ever been allowed to disgrace the boards of an English theatre,” and “gross, almost putrid, indecorum.” Ibsen gave the critics a lot to be rattled by. Not only does the story includes illicit affairs, sexually transmitted disease and incest, the play’s indictment of outdated ideas is a clear tilt at religious moralising.

MTC’s production, far from being putrid, is elegantly dark. The emotional tone is emphasised by a stark set, depicting the widow’s house as a mouldering barely furnished mansion. Rain beats constantly against a glass wall, heightening the feeling of entrapment, and characters frequently appear first through the fogged glass, like phantoms out of mist.

At times the show does seem to waver between trying to modernise Ibsen and milking 19th century melodrama for all it’s worth. It can feel a little disjointed at times but this works in context with the script, which is after all about people failing to break free from their past. It is as if the play is also trapped by history, trying to modernise but unable to avoid sliding back into melodrama.

While there are some inescapably dated elements — the depiction of illness in particular feels antiquated — Ibsen’s rage against the societal hypocrisies of his day shines through fiercely with strong resonance to our current time. It is still a powerful drama and this production drives that home with some blistering performances.

Image: Jeff Busby.