A door suspended above the stage swings open, revealing the figure of a man awash in white light as a massive staircase glides out beneath him. Thus, James McArdle’s Peter Gynt makes his grand entrance, sauntering down the stairs ready to charm and repulse the audience with his astounding charisma and delirious personality.
In partnership with London’s National Theatre, the Edinburgh International Festival presents David Hare’s modern take on Peter Gynt by Henrik Ibsen at the Festival Theatre. Set in modern day Scotland, the play follows the bewilderingly narcissistic Peter Gynt on a long journey of self-discovery and self-indulgence after an angry mob runs him out of town. From reality-bending dreams to abandoning his love to falling from international economic prosperity, McArdle delivers a tenacious, well-crafted performance that delights in spite of Gynt’s irritating, problematic nature. Set designer Richard Hudson has crafted an awe-inspiring set, and collaborated marvelously with projections from video designer Dick Straker on a split-stage maintained by director Jonathan Kent.
Unfortunately, following the magnificent spectacle of the opening moments, it becomes evident that the production is as self-indulgent as its titular character, relying heavily on its strong lead actor and stunning big budget set in order to get away with unimaginative plot elements and lackadaisical jokes. David Hare’s modern adaptation creates the opportunity for bold, progressive commentary on subjects like privileged voices and immigrant narratives, but wastes it on lame buzzword one-liners about Bitcoin and gender fluidity. The majority of attendees––white liberal Londoners, then white liberal European and American tourists––will fit the target audience. The show has been designed to make such an audience feel validated and secure in the form of social progressiveness to which they subscribe, and in turn refuses to challenge them to step outside of their comfort zone.
In this bizarre and underwhelming three hours and twenty minutes, the most senseless and unrealistic plot device is––no, not Gynt’s two-headed son conceived by his heart with a pig-nosed troll woman in green––Sabine, a young woman of color who recently immigrated to Scotland played by Anya Chalotra. Notably the only prominent character of color, Sabine firmly tells off Gynt when he manhandles her upon their first meeting, only to profess tropes of inexplicable true love for him upon their second meeting as if she had forgotten––forgiven?––his former predatory behavior. Once he abandons her for decades after insisting she promise to wait for him, she opens a bookstore and sings a sad, sweet tune about spending her life selling other people’s stories on a split stage where Peter is chasing his story on the opposite side. Peter returns to her arms and her love at the end without having cared for her once in the entire play. Sabine’s character passively playing along with this disturbing objectification is a lazy and abominable modern adaptation failure on Hare’s part. Sabine is a subservient plot device to prop up the seemingly unloveable Gynt and give him a proper homecoming at the conclusion of the play. It’s boring, outdated, and misogynistic.
In a story following a man whose startlingly selfish behavior leads him through a life of sinful mediocrity, this adaptation fails to undergo honest self-reflection about the impactful consequences that such a life would have in a modern setting––falling far short of what the world needs from art right now.