By Samuel Adamson. New Theatre, Newtown, NSW. 8 October – 2 November, 2024

Reviewed : 13 October, 2024

‘Tis often said that when Nora Helmer walked out and slammed the door at the end of Henrik Ibsen’s Doll’s House in 1879 the sound reverberated all over Europe. A woman who left her husband? Walked out on her children? Rejected social customs? Sought independence?  Despite public outcry at the time, Nora became a feminist hero – and Samuel Adamson uses her as a symbol of marginalised groups in the society struggling for recognition and respect.

Adamson’s play is complex. It evolves over 83 years, four time frames and four productions of The Doll’s House. Each production raises different questions of identity and acceptance for Adamson’s characters, straight and queer.

Sound complicated? It is. Mainly because some of the scenes are over-written, with salient points being obscured in unnecessarily repetitive dialogue that wears the actors, especially when they are playing multiple roles. And it questions the intelligence of the audience! There is no need for repetition in those scenes. The messages therein are clear – and the audience “gets it” as the play progresses.

The play begins with a 1959 production of Ibsen’s play and its effect on a young wife, Daisy, and her belligerent husband. Daisy’s conversation with the actress playing Nora forces her to make a decision which affects her future and … as Adamson cleverly suggests … the future of succeeding generations of her family when they see the play in 1988, 2019 and 2042.

Six actors take the audience through those 83 years on a set designed by David Marshall-Martin to resemble an old-fashioned doll’s house, the colourful, picture book exterior opening out to reveal the rooms inside that take the actors backstage in 1959 and 2042, in bars in 1988 and 2019.

In those settings the cast of six – Julia Vosnakis, Imogen Trevillion, Will Manton, Pete Walters, Henry Lopez Lopez and Alison Brooker – play 14 characters in scenes that deal with the oppression of abuse, condescension, derision, discrimination, vilification – and, thankfully, the discovery of confidence and acceptance.

Though there are some minor moments of awkward blocking in the scene changes, the characters presented are clear and director Darrin Redgate ensures that the moments of humour and wit are found amongst the sometimes circumlocutious dialogue.

Wife is built on a clever premise and Redgate and his cast navigate its rocky patches relatively successfully.