Henrik Ibsen wrote Peer Gynt during his travels around the Mediterranean Sea. Perhaps touched by the same muse as ancient Homer, Ibsen created his own Iliad, a play far different from the rest of his catalogue and mostly written in verse. Though Gynt is generally considered a masterpiece, it was not originally written to be performed. If anyone could bring the story to the stage though, it was Minnesotan poet, Robert Bly. The master of the mythopoetics was the natural choice for the adaptation of a play that is largely a collection of Norwegian myths, fairy tales and Christian allusion. His “new” version of Gynt premiered at the Guthrie on Friday evening - and I believe that it was largely a success.
Under Bly’s pen and Tim Carroll’s direction, the infamously long play has been cut down to a manageable three hours. Gone is much of the original score by Edvard Grieg - most noticeably replacing "In the Hall of the Mountain King," with industrial rock music. The dialogue, however, was not written with a heavy hand. Like Ibsen’s inception, Bly’s Gynt is both full of jokes and largely written in verse. Though the play can be hard to follow at times (the relationship of Peter Gynt of the first scene to the protagonist Peer Gynt can be a little confusing) it is an extremely ambitious undertaking that wins more than it loses.
Bly’s protagonist is played by the indefatigable Mark Rylance, whose slack jawed anti-hero is mesmerizing and difficult to pigeonhole. We love and yet are revolted by him at the same time. Rylance plays role of the unapologetic egoist to perfection. Somehow yet, the audience never stops rooting for him - even after all of his grievous sins. Though he tripped up his lines a couple times, he recovered like a professional and it did little to take away from his overall performance. His physical acting was also admirable, creating Gynt’s world without the benefit of an extensive set or props.
Perhaps taking a cue from Sir Tyrone Guthrie’s Afterthought on Peer Gynt (excerpt included in the program) much of the scenery in the play has been “jettison [ed].” The exception is a large barn backdrop and raising and lowering floorboards, which magically turns the stage into a wavy desert or stormy ocean as needed. Guthrie’s thoughts were that “with no visual illusion, the imagination of the audience would be more free to roam with Peer.” This seems appropriate, as Gynt is largely a fairy tale, and utilizing our own imaginations we can see a far greater Troll Hall, for instance, than anything the workshop may have been able to build.
In experiencing Peer Gynt in any incarnation, it is indeed the imagination that becomes the most important tool in one’s understanding of the play. While Gynt’s adventures around the world can be enjoyed quite literally, where we can find deeper meaning is in delving into his existential journey of finding identity - in existence, philosophy and in love. In order to really explore the unanswerable questions though, you must leave logic at the door and allow your imagination be swept along alongside Peer through his intricate odyssey.