A Doll’s House drunk on a Margarita

September 24, 2013 § Leave a comment

Young Vic, A Dolls House

Young Vic, A Dolls House

Perhaps I should blame the margarita for not remembering half of the play, but let’s start at the very beginning. Tickets to see A Doll’s House, a play by none other than Henrik Ibsen, were a birthday present for a friend who as it turned out was out of the country on the day, dancing at a Spanish wedding and drinking sangrias. I invited another friend of mine to come along.

It’s a long play so naturally we had to eat something mouth-watering, as you do. Enter Chipotle, a sin in a soft taco shell. The juicy, spicy, shredded beef slowly roasted for hours, I think, impressed me more than the play, fireworks in my mouth does not cover it, it’s like Christmas and lazy Saturday mornings but better:

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The delicious barbacoa is not to blame for me spacing out during the play of course, it is Chipotle’s lethal Margaritas that came in huge glasses and looked so innocent until you drank one and went to sit down in your seat to find yourself floating high and above the heads of very serious spectators.

And I do remember the play, of course I do. I remember Nora, who came across as vulgar, lacking of imagination, neurotic and cheap, who, dare as I may say, behaved nothing like a Scandinavian lady of 19th century would have. The lack of chemistry between Nora and Torvald was uncomfortable to watch, even with lime tequila pouring out of my eyeballs. Hattie Morahan’s hoarse voice did not add to it either and only made a tragic character like Nora seem jumpy and pathetic, which she never was. It was all a bit too try-hard, too in your face obvious when I think and I trust the public that sat in those seats have seen their own fair share of shit called life, no need to chew it to the state of pulp and feed it to them.

Instead, spoon it in subtly, unceremoniously, because that is how all the tragedies in life play out – they happen on the most random of days (say when you take your cat for a routine operation), to the most ordinary people (boring office jobs, big ambitions, no talent), spoken in most primitive words. The impact of the decision to leave the family cannot be overplayed, the decision, if made by a strong character like Nora, would speak for itself, even without the door slamming.

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