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| Photography: Daisy Noyes |
The name-tag belonging to a staff member at 45 downstairs is laconic in its defence against the irascible theatre patron. 'Hello', it says: 'I'm doing my best'. An expression comprised of verbal economy, it is also an unintended reflection of Daniel Schlusser's contraction of space for this adaptation of Ibsen's A Doll's House (1879). This normally expansive basement warehouse has been reduced to an ill-fitting rectangle. The front row audience is situated some two meters from the stage. Behind the performers is a flat, galvanised tin wall. The only methods of escape are several miniature windows and a zipped door. Both audience and performers eyeball one another in a gaze that is simultaneously disconcerting and sublime. This is audience participation of a most surreptitious type. The usual desire to remain an impartial observer has been neutralised by a cunning manipulation. We, the audience, are not outside, but inside. Yes, we are behind the walls of the dollhouse.
In preparations for Christmas the Helmer household is characterised by an atmosphere of nonchalance, if not outright triviality. Torvald Helmer lounges before a flat-screen TV. Engrossed by the interactive simulation of a violent Playstation scenario, he remains oblivious to the machinations that will consume his public and private reputation. Meanwhile, the highly qualified but spineless Doctor Rank epitomises the impostor and his usual pedestrian claim to possess the powers of mystical healing. Furthermore, the director of The Dollhouse himself occupies a position on stage. Microphone in hand, Schlusser criticises the original script for its earnestness and quietly informs the audience that Ibsen's contemporary, August Strindberg, publicly attacked A Doll's House in 1884. Incandescent in her conflicting levity, Nora Helmer, the pivotal character of this production, appears to hover above the surrounding inertia. She is simultaneously more frivolous, while being more disturbed by her frivolity, than all who are present. The reason prompting her near-hysteric state is revealed with the arrival of an old friend, Kristine Linde. Linde is down on her luck. During a discussion about employment Nora reveals she has fraudulently accumulated a large debt of which her husband Torvald has no knowledge. (She did so in order to save Torvald's life when he was ill). But has kept details of the debt from him so as to not offend his puritanical sense of male pride.
What ensues is an intelligently crafted carousel during which each character attempts to mitigate the effect of their innate human flaws, but fails to do so. Torvald physically batters the manipulative lawyer Krogstad, Dr. Rank reveals to all his adulterous intention and Nora catapults her distressed self toward suicide. Absent for much of this chaotic descent are the often referred-to Helmer children. There occurs a momentary suspicion that like George and Martha from Albee's sardonic play the Helmers have created phantom off-spring to appease their inadequate selves. However, the subtle suggestion that it is the Helmer children outside the dollhouse who gaze in upon their parents is a chilling endorsement of thwarted innocence and the perceptive power of childhood. Flowers appear, stuffed through tiny windows. A tirade of Lego pieces dumped upon Nora's head dispenses with her delusionary self and most importantly, a letter arrives.
Torvald Helmer discovers the actual detail of the fraudulent debt. He believes his career to be ruined and blames none other than Nora. His dogma cannot accept the public shame and private betrayal brought upon him by a woman who has taken it upon herself to act in an independent manner. Even if this has meant that in doing so, his life has been saved. Consequently, what this production testifies to is the re-emergence of a patriarchal order in contemporary male/ female relationships. Here, The Dollhouse is a revisionist work of hyperrealism directed by a male who succeeds in suggesting he is simultaneously scathing of the production he has created. This is a peculiar yet fascinating irony that catapults The Dollhouse into a stratosphere of 'Now' that is uber- contemporary. Once opening night nerves settle into a confident rhythm this production has the potential to slay its audience in the aisles.
The Dollhouse: adapted from the play by Henrik Ibsen
Performers: Nikki Shiels, Kade Greenland, Edwina Wren,
Josh Price, Daniel Schlusser, Cate Bastian & Gabrielle Abbot
Director: Daniel Schlusser
Producer: Sarah Ernst
Set Design: Jeminah Reidy
Lighting Design: Kimberly Kwa
Costume Design: Tiffany Abbot
Sound Design: Martin Kay
Assistant Director: Daisy Noyes
Production Manager: Emma Valente
Stage Manager: Alison Huth
Assistant Stage manager: Shannon Power
Sound Operator: Ben Redford
Publicity: Fiona Macleod
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