Ghosts

In 1881, when Ghosts was first produced, Clement Scott, a noted London critic, called Henrik Ibsen's play "an open drain, a loathsome sore unbandaged, a dirty act done publically..." But as performed by the Lowell House Drama Group, Ghosts is not nearly so shocking as it is dull, and eventually depressing. For when Ibsen's theme emerges through the verbiage and some discouragingly flabby acting, it retains a profound meaning.

Rather melodramatically, Ghosts tells of the "lifeless old ideals, the dead beliefs," which forced Helene Aving to remain married to her wealthy but dissolute husband, whose venereal disease leads to his son's insanity. Since his death, these ideals have seemed to Mrs. Aving increasingly hollow, the sham life she led increasingly meretricious.

The first two acts of the play--before the audience learns of Osvald Alving's disease--are like a drawing room comedy, only with little humor. Even if the cast were superb, all that could hold the audience's attention is the pomposity of Parson Manders' (spiritual advisor to Mrs. Alving) and his inability to contend with Osvald's defense of illicit marriage. At great length, the characters speak to each other seriously, but pointlessly, setting up the few magnificent scenes before the final curtain.

Only toward the end of the second act does Mrs. Alving's character begin to evolve. Goaded by Parson Manders, she tells of her life with her husband. The third act includes some exquisitely written dramatic moments, as Mrs. Alving learns of her son's disease and Osvald (who has always lived away from home) of his father's profligacy.

But as played by the Lowell Dramatic Group, Ghosts is almost vapid. The actors appear to observe the characters from the outside, often reciting lines as if they were participating in a first or second rehearsal. Each has a few good moments, each delivers occasional lines with gratifying conviction, but none is capable of sustaining the intensity which Ghosts requires.

Travis Linn (Parson Manders) gives the most convincing performance. His long speeches, often addressed to the painted fjords at the rear of the stage, are often flat, but, in his shorter lines, he managed to convey the Parson's fatuousness.

The other major performers are mostly wooden or inconsistent. In the first act, Daniel Markowich (Osvald Alving) fails to suggest any of the intense fear which must haunt him. After one convincing scene--when he tells of his disease--Markewich's performance again trails off until, toward the end, his hysteria occasionally appears a joke.

The pivotal figure in the play is, of course, Mrs. Alving, but as Anne Miner portrays her she is constrained almost to the point of inarticulateness. In the minor roles, Lisa Commager (the Alving's maid) is beautiful and occasionally quite good, while Laurence Jacobs often misinterprets the character of Jacob Engstrand, a Falstaffian carpenter.

J. Wesley Zeigler's direction is often contrived. Most of his characters, when they deliver long speeches, pace up and down the stage, following practically the same pattern. And the play is considerably dulled by Ziegler's fascination with the fjords (which look very much like the Swiss Alps.) In the first act, an audience sitting out behind the set would hear almost as much of the important dialogue as the group in the Lowell Dining Room.