Review: THE STORY OF PEER GYNT: AN EVENING WITH KÅRE CONRADI, The Coronet Theatre

The Coronet is thriving with their unwavering commitment to opening up their stage to international theatre. Up next, the fantastic adventures chronicled in Henrik Ibsen’s Peer Gynt are distilled into a snappy 75-minute “dramatised lecture” led by Kåre Conradi. The Artistic Director of the Norwegian Ibsen Company delivers a passionate exegesis of the eponymous antihero, slipping between analyst and subject, narrator and protagonist, in a fascinating personal enquiry into the play. But first, what is a dramatised lecture?

If we’re speaking technically, a dramatised lecture is an educational performance that joins drama and academia in order to make the topic more entertaining to the public. In this case, Conradi offers an engaging one-man show that makes the bulky five acts of Peer Gynt accessible and smooth. He lightly ties the original piece to the universal experience of living in a modern world, but doesn’t overdo any of the self-referencing faux pas that could have been made. It’s a self-effacing vanity project of exquisite moral and artistic value.

There are no frills, there’s no extravagance. Just undiluted storytelling that amplifies the simple pleasure of being told a story in a darkened room. Conradi oozes charisma, only a chair as his companion and occasionally evocative sound design and lights (Anders Busch). His sharp magnetism keeps the crowd in the palm of his hand as he conjures landscapes and characters. He meets the audience halfway with easygoing yet eloquent banter. His invested devotion to the work is utterly infectious. While the plot is obviously the foundation of Conradi’s show, the more critical side is an intriguing addition.

Ibsen’s tale of mortality, legacy, ego, and folklore becomes a moment of self-inspection, but also of sheer fascination. The adaptation (written by Conradi alongside Elisabeth Gording) includes brief deviations that touch upon language and translation, as well as how traditional casting choices can elevate the symbolism of the writing. Conradi weaves in Ibsen’s Norwegian text, and it feels so right. His physicality eases the two tongues, mirroring in the foreign verse the concepts and images he’s discussing. A pleasant musicality can be found in the rhythm and pace of the script. Conradi reconfirms himself a master storyteller.