Theatre review: My Master Builder

Henrik Ibsen seems to be the current favourite classic playwright for modern writers to rewrite, rework and reimagine, in plays billed as inspired by his work rather than straightforward adaptations. And I'm sure sooner or later we'll get something that genuinely feels like it's reinventing the wheel, but right now I'd settle for something I can see the point of: Lila Raicek's My Master Builder isn't that. Henry (Ewan McGregor) is a superstar architect (or "starchitect,") who has just completed work on a new chapel adjacent to his weekend home in the Hamptons. On the tenth anniversary of his son's death, the building is to be officially unveiled as a memorial to the child, and his publisher wife Elena (Kate Fleetwood) is organising a launch party. As she plans the evening with her assistant Kaia (Mirren Mack) she reveals a somewhat twisted sense of mischief in some of the invitations and seating arrangements, but one guest has been invited for an even darker purpose.

Mathilde (Elizabeth Debicki) is a friend of Kaia's and an architecture journalist who would like to interview Henry; she's changed her name, so he doesn't realise she's the former intern he once had an affair with until he's face to face with her again.

I've seen Ibsen's original The Master Builder twice before, so it's a play I'm a bit familiar with but not as much as some others. I'm also yet to see a production I really liked, but I do know it's one of the writer's plays that toys with a more abstract style - an almost dream-like appearance by a figure from the title character's past, and a wealth of sometimes impenetrable symbolism that has had people debating for over a century whether it's a grand philosophical work or an old man's sexual fantasy. Regardless of which side you come down on with the original, it's kind of extraordinary the extent to which Raicek's new version is so far removed from this as to have nothing underneath the surface at all.

What we get is a soap opera, which is certainly how Michael Grandage's production interprets it, getting overwrought performances out of usually good actors. At the interval Ian said the cliffhanger was something straight out of The Colbys*, and if anything I thought it was a bit generous to suggest something with an actual budget: I was thinking more the kind of daytime soap that can't afford a second take. Although I guess Richard Kent's shiny, towering set and eye-catching frocks are providing the gloss.

But Raicek's lines keep letting the show down more than anything else, and by the second act the characters start speaking entirely in self-help speak and melodramatic clichés: "Maybe the greatest pleasure has to come out of the greatest pain!" Do they have a script, or are they reading this off the sides of coffee mugs?

And three of the actors have been allowed to keep their British accents to show them as outsiders to this neighbourhood of privilege, but their lines haven't been changed accordingly, leading to some confusion: Elena repeatedly refers to Mathilde as Kaia's "girlfriend," which meant I spent a lot of time thinking there was a very different dynamic at play than was actually the case. The confusing sexual interplay isn't helped by David Ajala's Ragnar: I know there are camp straight men but I don't know what's achieved by having him yas queening around the stage while Elena wonders why he's not interested in her; never mind him then being revealed as the great vagina hunter of Southampton, NY.

I guess this is meant to be a reinvention of the play as a #MeToo story, with Henry's power-imbalanced relationship coming back to bite him, but so much of the misogyny and casual slut-shaming comes from the supposed girlboss Elena that his own actions fade into the distance. There's also a plotline about Elena offering to publish Mathilde's novel of she openly admits who it's about, which apparently horrifies her: If the manuscript's inspiration is as obvious as we're told, I don't know why she thinks this information wouldn't be immediately uncovered by anyone with access to the Internet. Unfortunately picking holes in the story is about all the entertainment a dull, lifeless play has to offer.

My Master Builder by Lila Raicek, after The Master Builder by Henrik Ibsen, is booking until the 12th of July at Wyndham's Theatre.

Running time: 2 hours including interval.

Photo credit: Johan Persson.

*and yes I did enjoy just how niche a reference he went for instead of Dynasty or Dallas, even more niche than Falcon Crest