Riveting realism

Henrik Ibsen's examination of the ennui of domestic life and the difficulties of love and gender in conventional society is as topical now as it was when it premiered in Germany in 1891. Interpretations of the work have varied widely in the intervening century. In the new production at Švandovo divadlo, director Daniel Špinar has made it a tale of mismatched lovers, the consequences of callousness and vacuity and the hollowness of institutions like marriage and academia.

The plot concerns the tragic devolution of the relationships between a recently married couple and their relatives, colleagues and former and prospective lovers. All is not well as we meet the title character, a new bride climbing the walls in her pleasant prison dream of supposed domestic bliss. Hedda (Jana Stryková) has married poor, blighted Jorgen Tesman (David Punčochář) on a whim and is living to regret her flippancy. Her husband makes every effort to give her what she is supposed to want out of life, but to no avail. His own attempts to establish himself as a writer and university professor have thus far come to naught as well.

Enter Tesman's academic rival, Ejlert Lovborg (Martin Pechlát), and his seemingly love-struck assistant, Thea Elvsted (Eva Leimbergerová), as well as the lecherous and scheming Judge Brack (Luboš P. Veselý), and the stage is set for a headlong rush into tragedy and loss.     

Stryková is positively mesmerizing as Hedda, wearing her sensuality like an unloved article of clothing and her penchant for violent mischief like a badge of honor. Pechlát is perfectly cast as the imposing and alluring (if pathologically self-obsessed) Lovborg, and Leimbergerová gives another in a series of solid performances as a woman simultaneously dedicated and obsessed. Excessive sprinting about and hand-wringing beset Punčochář's Tesman, leaving one with the impression that the actor doubts the text's ability to convey his character's idiosyncrasies effectively - doubts which, if truly held, are sadly mistaken.

Iva Němcová's set design is simultaneously ill-conceived and well-executed. The unfortunate abstractness it lends to the proceedings is offset nicely by the inclusion of bright colors and the clockwork precision of the various oddities she's installed in the space. Jiří Hájek's music adds much to the production, at times minimalist and, at others, playful and emphatic.

Špinar's direction is a welcome departure from the company's tendency toward loose, erratic blocking. His cast moves through scenes fluidly and with purpose, while maintaining depth and accessible sightlines.

Hedda's tale is a tragic one, and there is no pleasure in witnessing her eventual unraveling. However, as with much that holds up from the school of classic realism, there is something captivating and instructive about observing the dynamics of real life at work on the stage. With this latest addition to Švandovo's considerable repertoire, suspension of disbelief is not required.  

James Walling can be reached at
jwalling@praguepost.com