In a present-day setting somewhere in the South West, widowed Helena (Victoria Smurfit) is preparing to open a children's hospital named in memory of her husband - a man who terrorised, abused and cheated on her, but for reasons of her own she's choosing to keep up his saintly public image.
This won't be possible though, as rumours of the truth have reached the board of directors, who are considering taking his name off the project before it can tarnish it. The Chair, Andersen (Rhashan Stone,) a lawyer and Helena's old boyfriend, has come to ask for her blessing, but she's resolute. Also visiting for the opening ceremony is her son Oz (Howells,) here a rather brattish young actor who's had a few high-profile roles but is currently in the middle of a dry spell.
One of the main revelations about his late father is that one of his affairs, with Oz's nanny, resulted in a child - Reggie (Patricia Allison) has always thought her real father was labourer Jacob (Deka Walmsley,) and has in recent years been working long and thankless hours as Helena's PA. After knowing each other all their lives she and Oz will only now find out they're half-siblings, and this is where Owen really departs from Ibsen, whose version suggests some incestuous feelings on the boy's part.
Here not only are those feelings reciprocated, but the two have just had sex for the first time when they discover they're related. So rather than an additional queasy detail in a play full of nasty little secrets, the incestuous storyline becomes the main focus, understandably devastating both of the young people and driving the already volatile Oz into a full breakdown.
This replaces both the religious themes and the congenital syphilis plotline of the original, and I think the cutting of the latter means the play has lost its streamlined, painfully on-the-nose metaphor for the sins of the father being visited on the son. Instead we have tangents covering everything from consent to codependent relationships, a streak of dark humour that often works but just as often leads to serious revelations getting big laughs, and a barrage of plot twists.
The production - which runs about an hour longer than most I've seen and feels it - can also be cold and robotic, especially from a confused-looking Smurfit. It's not without things I liked - Howells and Allison have some quietly powerful moments together* and Merle Hensel's set manages to contrast a clinical living space with an atmospheric, foggy exterior view. The production seems to have been very positively received so I guess I'm an outlier, but the attempt to make an 18th century story make sense in a 21st century world has left Owen with a plot that trips over itself, where in my experience trusting the audience's suspension of disbelief to do the heavy lifting usually works well enough.
Ghosts by Henrik Ibsen in a version by Gary Owen is booking until the 10th of May at the Lyric Hammersmith.
Running time: 2 hours 35 minutes including interval.
Photo credit: Helen Murray.
*although in contrast to many of the twists feeling drawn-out, I felt Reggie's angry demand for some of her father's money spent too little time on the true grotesqueness of what she's discovered: She thought she was a servant whose benevolent boss treated her almost like family; turns out she's family who's been treated as a servant, and made to feel grateful for it
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