Wagner Moura’s recent lead role in the hugely acclaimed Brazilian film The Secret Agent made him the first actor from his country ever to bag a Best Actor Academy Award nomination and let me tell you, in person the man has rizz.
After opening his countrywoman Christiane Jatahy’s ‘sequel’ to Ibsen’s An Enemy of the People with a tortured Portuguese monologue about about the nature of objective reality, he breaks up to suavely chat with us in English, and despite his warning that The Trial will be ‘99.98 percent’ in his native tongue, he frequently breaks off to talk with us, plead with us, shout at us in English. He is a very big deal, a very charming man and his superstar presence is a very big asset to the production.
Which it needs because Jatahy’s high concept show is in danger of foundering on its own conceit, and casting a superstar in the lead role of Thomas Stockmann really does do a lot to paper over the cracks.
In Ibsen’s monumental 1882 play, troubled protagonist Stockmann discovers the waters of his home town’s valuable spa are dangerously polluted. He believes it needs to be closed immediately and forces a showdown with the townsfolk, who don’t want to lose money by taking action. He loses, in part because he blows his top and calls his fellow citizens morons and questions the value of democracy if it lets the majority do stupid things.
The climatic town hall scene was already a sort of unofficial public trial for him. But here he is, more formally on trial: the events of the original play took place around three years years ago, and in the time since Stockmann’s life has fallen apart, but he is hoping to bring it all back by literally being judged for his actions (let’s not worry too much about the standing of the case here, it’s theatre darling). His daughter Petra is his defence, his brother Peter is prosecuting, and the jury is selected from us, the audience.
This is a fine idea and I don’t doubt that audiences in different countries might react differently to the show’s themes. But the bottom line is that from a British perspective the idea Stockmann did anything wrong is laughable. Sure, he’s nominally being tried under the ambiguous query ‘is he an enemy of the people?’. Yes, his rants about the failures of democracy are disturbing. But fundamentally he wanted to stop people bathing in poisonous water. It is the definition of a no brainer.
In Ibsen he’s tried in the court of public opinion by a townsfolk whose self-interest vis a vis the spa is inflamed by Stockmann’s shitty attitude. But we have no skin in the game: yes, he can be a dick, but of course shut the poisoned spa. I mean genuinely your jury may vote differently to the press night one, but I’d be amazed.
The Trial does have some interesting resonance with the post-Covid era, notably the bizarre recent spectacle of the American Senate putting Anthony Fauci in the dock for purely vibes-based reasons. Stockmann’s impassioned monologue about the danger of inhabiting different, mutually uncomprehending realities has bite. But ultimately the production bets too much on a tension that doesn’t really exist, and is left feeling more like a novelty remix of An Enemy of the People than a companion piece of real weight.
It is something different, and it’s hardly inept: the droll sense of humour, smart multimedia form and rock solid original story all help it go down fairly smoothly, and Moura’s gigawatt presence is the icing on the cake. But ultimately, and despite the positive outcome, it really feels like a showtrial.