A Doll’s House, Part 2. Donmar Warehouse.

Hang on to your mutton-chop whiskers Torvald because the bitch is back. Hnath’s homage to Ibsen captures the original’s zeitgeist perfectly.

16 June 2022 Press Night

Among theatre-goers of a certain cynicism there is a longstanding debate about the nature of Nora, the protagonist of Ibsen’s 1879 masterpiece, A Doll’s House, and Lucas Hnath’s intriguing 2017 follow-up, currently showing at the Donmar Warehouse.

Is she, as one side would have it, a proto feminist hero whose self-deliverance from the oppressive control of husband Torvald Helmer is an inspiration to everywoman? Or is she, as I tend to conclude, one of the most enduringly tiresome characters in the entire European theatrical canon?

Whichever side of the debate you favour, I think it is safe to say that you will probably come out of the American writer’s Part Two feeling much the same way about Nora as when you went in.

Hnath’s characterisation of the wayward Norwegian housewife feels entirely in keeping with the self-assured, self-aware (some would say self-obsessed) woman we see in Ibsen’s final scene. Part Two’s Nora may be fifteen years older, craftier, and richer, but she is still every bit as irritating as before.

Nora, it emerges has had a quite a time of it since walking out on arch bore Torvald and the kids, the youngest of whom, Emmy, is now a spirited and self-confident 18 year-old.

After a hermit-like sojourn in a shack in northern Norway, during which she apparently managed to figure out who she ‘really is’, Nora became a best-selling author of polemical novels about liberated women. In between a series of banker, architect, and builder boyfriends, she even wrote a fictionalised account of wrote her own life story.

Unfortunately, her “little” book, as ever-patronising Torvald describes it, drew the attention of a crusty old judge, who was none too pleased to see his own wife walk out on him as a result of reading the novel.

The judge dug around and found out that the Helmers had never actually divorced, making all the legal agreements the supposedly single Nora signed over the previous decade and a half, null and void.  Nora, who let’s face it has form in the business of putting dodgy signatures on documents, now needs a divorce from Torvald pretty sharpish. Otherwise, she stands to lose everything.

Torvald is, unsurprisingly perhaps, a little reluctant to grant his wayward wife’s request. Partly this is because he is still pissed off with her and partly because he has led the entire town to believe Nora is already dead. Divorcing her now means major embarrassment.

Oh, and there are two complicating matters. Firstly, the cash Torvald took from the government in compensation for Nora’s assumed demise, and secondly daughter Emmy’s determination not to let her own marriage plans get messed up by mum and dad’s scheming.

There is plenty at stake for everyone involved and, even if a little convoluted, the backstory provides a neat enough springboard for an effective and entertaining 90-minutes of drama.

I am not sure what Ibsen would make of the line “Fuck off, Nora, just fuck off,” that the exasperated maid Anne-Marie (a highly watchable June Watson) aims at her erstwhile mistress. But I think he would approve of Hnath’s compact and sparse style of writing. He is particularly good at composing the kind of half-finished sentence, packed with coded language, that people wary of each other often have.

I am not sure Norah is ever destined to be entirely happy with life, but I do not really think Ibsen ever intended her to be. With this in mind, Part Two’s ending, which suffice to say sets up a whole host of troubles for the couple to work out in Part Three, felt just right.

Noma Dumezweni has tremendous stage presence and gives a dominating performance as the imperious and self-righteous Nora. Brian F O’Byrne also puts in a great turn as the buttoned-up Torvald, who never quite gets things right with his wife.

Thoroughly enjoyable. Go see it.

Lucas Hnath Writer

James Macdonald Director

Rae Smith Designer

Noma Dumezweni Nora

Brian F O’Byrne Torvald

June Watson Anne Marie

Patricia Allison Emmy

Duration: 90 minutes. No interval.

Full Disclosure: I paid full box-office price for the ticket.