Reviewing the production of Ibsen’s ever-timely play as midterm election results pour in…

How do you defend a truth no one wants to hear? In Barnard Theatre’s production of An Enemy of the People, which played over the October 22-24 weekend, Dr. Stockmann (Jia Dixit, CC ‘27) grapples with this question as she tries to convince her local town to renovate Kirsten Springs. As their town’s defining tourist attraction, the springs are a near-miraculous source of awe and revenue. Yet through rigorous research, Dr. Stockmann has discovered a major flaw in the spring’s design: it poisons the water, causing those who drink it to fall ill. A bitter and brutal conflict ensues as Dr. Stockmann’s sister, who is the town’s mayor (Bess Blackburn, BC ‘27), strives to stop the doctor from spreading news about the flaw in Kirsten Springs, set on protecting the status quo and her own power. Their argument soon sweeps the whole town into a battle between crowd and conscience, instinct and reason.

Although Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen originally penned An Enemy of the People in 1882, Arthur Miller adapted the play in 1950 amidst the rising tide of McCarthyism. Condensing Ibsen’s original five acts into a lean three, Miller also removed Dr. Stockmann’s elitist, social Darwinist innuendos in order to distill the play’s rallying cry for defending truth. In his words, “I… thought writing had to try to save America, and that meant grabbing people and shaking them by the back of the neck.” 

Director Shannon Sindelar’s vision powerfully reasserts the necessity of proclaiming what is true, especially in our current viper’s nest of a political landscape. Yet some of the production’s surrealist elements aren’t quite as successful in fulfilling this vision.

Acting-wise, this play is rich and compelling, especially in the performances of its central duo. As Dr. Stockmann, Dixit imbues her role with bountiful heart and scalding conviction, deftly capturing the unraveling of a woman committed to discomforting facts. Blackburn, playing Mayor Stockmann, commands forceful stage presence as a morally corrupt politician ruthless in preserving her own power. Her acerbic voice captures the mayor’s frightening determination with aplomb, contrasting the rich and generous tone of her sister. Together, the two create a captivating family dynamic between an immovable object and an unstoppable force, breathing life and urgency into Miller’s text. Although both Stockmann sisters were originally brothers in Miller’s play, their gender-swapping here emphasizes the merging of personal lives with the political sphere and how family vendetta can help catalyze public catastrophe.

The townspeople around them also provide sobering detail to the town’s failure of democracy. Among those caught up in and exposed by the crossfire are Hovstad (Simon Reich, CC ‘28), editor for their local paper, People’s Messenger, and his publisher Aslaken (Sara Constance Rose, BC ‘28), a self-declared spokesperson for the “solid majority.” As Hovstad, Reich skilfully captures his character’s skin-deep liberalism and mounting cowardice, and Rose brings the perfect note of cheerful moderation to Aslaken. 

Other characters include Billing (Theo Mitchell-Penner), an idealist who assistant-edits for the Messenger. Mitchell-Penner is soberingly convincing as Billing, playing up his character’s all too real contradictions. Hats off also to Catherine Ryan (BC ‘28), who embodies Dr. Stockmann’s daughter, Petra, with bright innocence and passion; Rosemary Duan (BC ‘29), who plays Dr. Stockmann’s mother-in-law with crabby pride; and Billy Cline (GS), who imbues Dr. Stockmann’s husband with humanity and timidity.

In terms of the play’s deviations from Miller’s original script, many of its surrealist departures unsettle productively, urging audiences to reconsider what they take for granted. Yet they also don’t cohere into a unified vision.

Unlike Miller’s original play, this production made the bold decision to set all the action against a majestic mosaic of St. Catherine of Alexandria, patron saint of students and teachers. A series of stone benches also curl around the blue floor to give the illusion of a pool—likely Kirsten Springs itself. This scenic design by Silin Chen disconnects viewers from the action of the play, which begins in the intimate setting of Dr. Stockmann’s home; the warm tones of a living room give way to the pale, cold colors of the spring. Although this sense of alienation from the action is mostly dissolved by passionate performances, the backdrop of St. Catherine continues to intrude with its symbolic presence of judgement.

Other surreal elements that beg us to question what is real on stage include the background presence of beige-cloaked figures, who stroll around the stone benches. These seem to represent the anonymous mass of townspeople, and they at one point even volley eggs at the mosaic of St. Catherine. Yet the named characters, Dr. Stockmann and co., never seem to notice them prowling around. They remain ghost-like figures hovering around the main action, occupying a liminal space between reality and imagination. Although their cult-like dress and behavior provoke reflection on how crowds often fall into blind devotion, their presence can also be distracting and seemingly random. Actors also take off the cloaks later in the scene when performing as townspeople, thus creating confusion as to why they choose to wear their cloaks at particular times.

Other unusual details are the speech of Mary Kiil, Dr. Stockmann’s mother-in-law, who talks with broken grammar, as well as the colorful, huge-eyed cardboard masks that Dr. Stockmann’s children wear throughout the play. These extra details add a layer of provocation to the play’s critique of democratic failure by prompting viewers to consider what exactly they take to be real and why. Yet these decisions don’t always make sense together. Why broken English for this one character? Why masks for the children and not anyone else?

Overall, though, this production of An Enemy of the People is a gripping triumph of technical achievement, from the cast-wide acting to the grounded costumes by Kaci Thomassie to the dramatic lighting by Mary Ellen Stebbins. They advocate movingly for the importance of truth while still confronting viewers with the frailty of democracy. Indeed, one of the production’s best changes to the play is to have Dr. Stockmann and her sister stand in the center of the stage rather than in the right corner during the town hall scene. In this way, they address the audience head-on, implicating us in their town’s failure of democracy. As each sister begs for our belief, the play humbly asks us, the people, if we would have the courage to stand up for what is right.

Image credit via the authors