★★★★☆
It felt quite apropos to see this play, a look at politics in the raw, during this period of local elections and referendum neverendums. It may have been written in 1882 by the Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen but an alarming amount of it seems completely modern.
“Am I supposed to make a public statement accusing myself of lying?” demands our lead character, Dr Thomas Stockmann, who has discovered that the newly renovated local baths, which provide the town’s main income, are filled with water poisoned by local factories.
The answer, obviously, is yes, of course you are supposed to accuse yourself of lying. This is politics! Hugh Bonneville is our doctor and at first, because he is so familiar as the Earl of Grantham, it was quite hard to shake the idea that this was some sort of Downton Abbey am-dram effort in which the lord is playing against type. This feeling was only enhanced by another member of the cast here, Michael Fox, having been below stairs in Downton. For a time, I kept expecting to see Lord Grantham’s yellow labrador come through the door, wagging her tail.
The feeling fades soon enough though, helped by the fact that this is a cracking story that doesn’t shirk some of the more unpalatable machinations of political morality. The good doctor has been investigating the safety of the water in the baths for some time and, having received evidence of the lab results, initially appears as our hero. But, in this version by the ubiquitous Christopher Hampton, the doctor goes from hero to zero and back again (and not just once).
The doctor’s self-congratulatory mood (although he insists he doesn’t want a parade) is punctured by the appearance of his brother Peter, the mayor, played with small-town fury by William Gaminara. He explains that the cost of fixing the spa would be ruinous. There are wonderful stand-offs, including one in which Bonneville’s doctor minces around the stage, twirling his brother’s walking stick and cocking his head coquettishly in his tiny cap.
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The best-staged scene is the public meeting in which the two brothers end up screaming at each other (helped by the perfidious editor of the local paper). Actors stand in the aisles, shouting and muttering. It’s chaos and I have to tell you that what it really reminded me of was a Ukip conference, only somewhat more orderly.
This production is extremely good at spotlighting both the power, and the failings, of the mob or what Ibsen labels the Solid Majority.
Morality slides around like an eel but Howard Davies, the director, doesn’t allow us to get too bogged down in hand-wringing. The period set, by Tim Hatley, gleams with polished wood and large persian rugs. This is a play that makes you think. I quite enjoyed that too.
Box office 01243 781312, to May 21