REVIEW: The Wild Duck (Shakespeare Theatre Company)
I remember trying to get into Game of Thrones in the mid-2010s. My parents were really into it, my classmates in high school were fans, and Reddit and Twitter (#DemThrones) were ablaze every Sunday. But each time I tried to watch it, there was just so much going on, and so many characters to follow, that my ADHD-riddled brain couldn’t keep up.
This is how I tend to feel about sprawling European fin-de-siecle dramas by the likes of Anton Chekov and Henrik Ibsen. They’re epic and emotive, detailed and contrite, but are they for everyone? I would posit no, even if I was an outlier in the critical appraisal of Shakespeare Theatre Company’s Uncle Vanya last season. As such, I had reservations going into STC’s The Wild Duck, a seldom-produced Ibsen tragedy, particularly because my prior attempts to read his other works such as A Doll’s House have ended in confusion or boredom.
But one summer, I just committed to Thrones while packing for college, and suddenly: in the Season 2 episode “Blackwater”, everything clicked. I was locked-in for the rest of the ride. (It’s a shame they never released seasons 6 and 7.) And in Simon Godwin’s production of The Wild Duck, about a third of the way through Act II, it happened again. Things finally clicked.
Book
The wealthy Werle family has under its fiscal sponsorship a local photographer, the Hjalmar Ekdal, whose father, wife Gina, and daughter Hedvig live in his rustic abode. He’s “inventing” an unknown device, and grandpa Ekdal spends his time hunting animals in their loft, which is inexplicably an indoor game reserve. After rescuing an injured duck, Hedvig makes it a mission to nurture it back to health. Meanwhile, an old friend, Gregers — the son of the elder Hakon Werle — returns to their life following a yearslong exile. His new life mission is to live life truthfully at all costs. Why this involves moving in with the Ekdal’s as a long-term houseguest is anybody’s (including other supporting characters’) guess. In his efforts to drive everyone towards an honest life, he relays rumors about the Ekdals to Hjalmar, leading to a disastrous meltdown. While I believe that the literal events don’t often translate to modern understandings (why IS Gregers there?), the underlying questions about living in ignorance became ever so potent as it proceeds. The consequences of the revelation are immediately blistering, but this adaptation plays it for a healthy mix of humor and melodrama until Hedvig gets involved. Her central role in Act II is gripping to say the least (which I will go further into in the next section.) The Wild Duck has a one of the most aggressive moral compasses I’ve ever seen, to the point of preachiness on behalf of Ibsen, but the morals aren’t half-baked, nor are they irrelevant. 7/10
Acting
Somehow I feel like Maaike Laanstra-Corn will be a name to remember. As the strongest performer in Duck, her Hedvig is effecting and infantile to a healthy degree, fostering a deeply contrasting innocence to her fatherly foil (Nick Westrate) and the comparatively stiff Gregers (Alexander Hurt). Additionally, her mother Gina (Melanie Field) is a classically headstrong Ibsen woman, with peppy deliveries are peppy and her presence direct and foreboding. 8/10
Production
Godwin tends to lean into the realism of his productions, and the result is less of a dialogue between the piece and the present and more of a portal to that world. This does mean that the density of Ibsen’s work is on full display, and can be off-putting for those expecting a more accessible approach. But patience rewards those who stick around. This is manifested most prominently in the reveal of Andrew Boyce’s gorgeously rustic set that features a boldly intrusive skylight, the main canvas for the subtle lighting from Stacey Derosier. One of the highlights of this production is the use of the live fiddle as interscene music, a swell contribution from music director Alexander Sovronsky. 8/10
Viz
The avian side-eye from the key art is a little creepy, but it makes sense. The show is often unsettling and the questions it poses uncomfortable, and the innocence of the duck being involved in all of it stains any positivity. But this design language is disrupted by the shoddy pre-show staging, which is a printed-out set of cardboard walls and some candle-lit furniture. (Thankfully, it evolves relatively quickly, but it’s not a good foot to start on.) 5/10
Verdict
The Wild Duck is a dense, but impactful, look at the consequences of truth in a solid production from STC. 28/40
