Alexander Hurt as Gregers Werle, Nick Westrate as Hjalmar Ekdal in “The Wild Duck.” Photo by Gerry Goodstein.
Henrik Ibsen, arguably the forerunner of theatrical realism, did like to take little expressionistic leaps now and then, blending the bleak workaday world with a more surrealist spin on the human condition. “The Wild Duck” is a perfect example of this realist-surrealist dichotomy at play. Taking audiences on a wild ride of dysfunction, deception, and deliverance, Ibsen (as adapted by David Eldridge) delivers a familiar refrain—you could potentially swap out Hedda and Lövborg for Gregers and Hjalmar, but he does so with a stark, visionary energy that leaves theatregoers gasping.
…powerfully provocative…The cast is beyond superb…Ibsen in STC’s hands is an emotional, literary, and achingly human tour de force.
The Shakespeare Theatre Company’s production of this lesser-performed Ibsen drama is powerfully provocative, bringing into focus the question of what makes life worth living, or, perhaps the question is how should life be lived? Gregers thrives on pot stirring. The son of a wealthy businessman, he is a typical silver-spooner who resents the ease of his life and the vastness of his wealth. He amuses himself by tinkering with the lives of the “common folk”—in this case, the Ekdal family. Hjalmar Ekdal, his wife Gina, and daughter Hedvig occupy a rather shabby, albeit cozy, home. They scrounge for every last kroner. They look to a brighter future based upon what-ifs and maybe-somedays. Gregers, however, isn’t satisfied with his old friend Hjalmar’s contentment. He wants him to live nobly. But what is it to live a noble life? Tragically, Gregers’ litmus test for nobleness involves using Hjalmar as the hapless test strip.
Revealing deeply buried secrets about Gina’s former life and bringing into question the foundation upon which their happy little family is built, Gregers forces Hjalmar to confront “real loss.” In refusing the complacency of ‘happiness,’ we find our true path, according to Gregers. Interestingly, Gregers hovers about the play, unassumingly populating several of the scenes with a presence that quite symbolically harkens an angel of darkness, a Faustian bargainer of sorts. Costume designer Heather C. Freedman even cleverly dresses the character as a cross between an undertaker and a dressed-down Dracula.
A number of subplots revolve around Hjalmar’s crisis of conscience. His father, a one-time lauded lieutenant, is now a drunkard who “hunts” rabbits in the attic. His daughter Hedvig is going blind and clings to an on-the-mend, wild duck, another inhabitant of the Ekdal’s attic. Gregers’ relationship with his father is also a story around which much of the play pivots. All such storylines come together in an explosive whirlwind of a finale which I shall not divulge, as it is certainly worth seeing for yourself.
The cast is beyond superb, delivering boundless emotion line after line. Their passion truly is palpable. Nick Westrate as Hjalmar brilliantly inhabits the space of initially awkward simpleton turned complex, tragic anti-hero. Complemented by Melanie Field’s Gina, the husband-wife duo transports audiences into the fiery labyrinth of their marriage. Field’s performance is Ibsen heroine worthy. The dour, at times diabolical, Alexander Hurt as Gregers elicited perhaps the most visceral audience response of the evening. Theatregoers couldn’t help themselves. Hurt is just that good. Maaike Laanstra-Corn as Hedvig possesses an impeccable sense of timing and helps steer the drama into moments of laughter. Same goes for Matthew Saldívar, whose wry wit is heartily welcomed. Under Simon Godwin’s direction, Ibsen’s play possesses layers of emotional nuance that might otherwise be lost given the tangle of stories and succession of scenes. Godwin grabs onto the passion with both hands and never lets go.
Creating the “everyday” world of a working family, set designer Andrew Boyce thoughtfully reproduces the imagined Ekdal apartment, complete with elusive attic that houses the titular duck. Every detail is seemingly accounted for, as the use of space also becomes an integral factor in the weightiness of life’s decisions. Darron L. West’s sound design, in tandem with Stacey Derosier’s perfectly cued lighting, serves to further amplify the Ekdal’s emotional, if not at times quasi-metaphysical struggle.
“The Wild Duck” is a quietly powerful piece. The lives of the characters expand well beyond the footlights of the stage as their “wrestling with god” inspires introspection, whether you came to the theatre for it or not. Ibsen in STC’s hands is an emotional, literary, and achingly human tour de force.
Running time: Two hours and 30 minutes with one intermission.
“The Wild Duck” runs through November 16, 2025 at Shakespeare Theatre Company’s Klein Theatre, 450 7th St NW, Washington, DC 20004. For more information and to purchase tickets, call the Box Office at 202.547.1122, 7 days a week, 12–6 pm (the Box Office windows remain open until curtain time), or go online.
