One of the great divides in theatre—right below musical theatre vs. straight plays—is new work vs. established canon. It’s a largely uneven battle. Revivals generally are less risky (audiences know what they’re getting and the recognize the playwright) and get better press (reviewers are less likely to spend their column inches on script critiques). There was a time when a new work offered the upside of the occasional long-running hit, but even that province seems to have been taken over by revivals lately.

Which makes the choice pretty obvious for theatres, and it perhaps explains why so many of the itinerant storefront theatres in town focus on remounts of well-established plays. I can’t say that I, personally, like it, but I get it. But that raises another question that is particularly pertinent to Infamous Commonwealth’s mounting of Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House. When should we let a classic go?

There’s no doubt that Ibsen is a key figure in the development of modern theatre. And along with our recent blizzard and arctic temperatures, we’ve had a wave of his plays going up. In addition to A Doll’s House, New Rock is presenting the second production of Ghosts we’ve had in town in less than a year, and Stage Left will open its production of Enemy of the People later this month. So all in all, if you like Ibsen, you’ve got a good month coming.

In the case of A Doll’s House, however, I couldn’t help wonder if the play’s story—a pampered wife finds herself in trouble with creditors due to her secret action to save her husband’s life and, in the end, rejects him and the life she has led—has ceased to be relevant. Not that all is perfect in the world of gender politics. But Ibsen was writing for a set of societal assumptions that were a lot more conservative than you’re likely to find in any Chicagoland audience. I suspect in his day, audiences did not find Torvald’s incredibly patronizing tone with his wife as repugnant as we do today. The gradual reveal—both for Nora and for the audience—of Torvald’s weakness and cowardice carried much more weight. For a modern audience, Torvald’s petty and, ultimately, craven, actions get overwhelmed by the fact that, by contemporary standards, he’s a complete dick to his wife. That he’s a moral coward has significantly less impact when we start off seeing him as a flawed, narcissistic misogynist.

Which makes me wonder if it’s possible to do this play justice now. I’m sure a brilliant production or performance could bring this piece to life. Or a significant reimagining of the play—Mabou Mines DollHouse, which had all the men played by actors less than four feet tall for instance—might shock some life into the story. But a relatively straight ahead production, such as that from Infamous Commonwealth, doesn’t do much—at least not for me.

Director Chris Maher reaches for some relevance by moving the play’s period forward to the early 1960’s. Kathy Arfken’s unit set features a classic fake Christmas tree and some period appropriate furniture. But the straight-couch and one chair severely limits potential staging patterns. Unfortunately, Christopher Hampton’s adaptation retains the stilted language so often found in translations, and Maher’s cast, though on-the-whole competent, have a hard time making those words sound natural. There are some nice moments. Kate Cares as Nora and Mark Shallow as Dr. Rank have a few nice moments, particularly when Dr. Rank tells her, subtly, that he’s going home to die, right under the nose of the oblivious Torvald (Stephen Dunn). Barbara Roeder Harris finds a few nice moments as Nora’s nanny. But the staging makes character connections difficult. Too often actors stare off into space to compensate for the awkward furniture placement.

I’m sure, despite my wishes to the contrary, that A Doll’s House will remain a regular part of the repertory, dragged out periodically as a paean to realism and early feminism. But it seems to me that we’ve moved far enough away from Ibsen’s world of the late 19th century that this play no longer packs the punch it doubtless did once. Which, along with a competent-but-uninspired production, makes it difficult to recommend Infamous Commonwealth’s efforts.

A Doll’s House, Infamous Commonwealth Theatre

Jack Helbig, Reader—“Kate Cares is superb as Nora, who feels she must play the helpless kitten even though she’s stronger and more competent than her inflexible blowhard of a husband. And she’s well matched by Stephen Dunn as said difficult spouse. The supporting characters in this Infamous Commonwealth Theatre production are similarly well cast and played. Mark Shallow, in particular, imbues every gesture and glance with rich resonance as the terminally ill Dr. Rank.”

Julienne Bilker, Time Out—“Place a startingly self-assured Nora in a 1962 New York City Doll’s House, and even she won’t be surprised when she leaves. Ibsen’s timelessly relevant script (in Christopher Hampton’s 1972 adaptation) is forcibly modernized here. Nora makes sense as a woman poised to join the feminist movement, but Cares’s confident body language, deeply resonant voice and touch of sass belie her purportedly childlike demeanor, and traces of her frivolity are missing from Katherine Arfken’s markedly barren set… Cares succeeds in drawing the audience into her pain, but her decision to leave—neither revelatory nor particularly dangerous in this setting—lacks punch. There’s no explosion, no door slam. The choices here aren’t illogical, but neither are they stimulating.”

Lisa Buscani, New City—“Chris Maher’s direction keeps the tale moving briskly; Rachel Sypniewski’s costumes and Kathy Arfken’s set highlight the Mad Men-esque lines and colors of the period. Cares captures Nora’s warmhearted naiveté and deftly handles her sudden transition to maturity. Dunn’s condescension and misguided affection drew gasps from the audience. Atkins’ villain poses a credible threat yet manages to remain a sympathetic character. Mark Shallow’s sardonic family friend acts as an accurate reminder of the poisonous effects of dishonesty and immorality in a family.”

reasons to be pretty, Profiles Theatre

Chris Jones, Tribune—“The off-Broadway version of this play had monologues where characters directly addressed the audience; the Broadway version cut those speeches. The Profiles version, which I like best of all, text-wise, is a hybrid of those two. That said, there are some issues with Rick Snyder’s production. The physical staging is less inventive than we’ve seen in this space of late—you don’t really get much sense of place. But the main problem is the casting. [Darrell W.] Cox is a fine actor in his prime. But he’s a good 15 years too old for this role—this kind of behavior from a guy in his late 20s is one thing, but wholly another from a fellow who seems to be in his 40s… Even in this flawed production, this cautionary tale not only offers more schandefreude than any other 90 minutes in town, but also has the authentic whiff of a writer who loves probing the reasons to be pretty and the dangers of bringing it up in conversation.”

Hedy Weiss, Sun-Times—“[Darci] Nalepa, petite and pretty (though she skillfully finds a way to be “plain” here), nails each of these arias to perfection. Keep your eye on this actress. Meanwhile, the play also traces a more serious betrayal in the relationship of Kent ([Christian] Stolte, who has the bar rat mentality down cold) and Carly (Benson, taut in her security guard uniform, and first-rate in her major scene). LaBute’s writing for the play’s two female characters is exceptionally strong here, while some of the male interaction seems a bit forced for plot purposes. But his insights into why and how one relationship crumbles while another manages to endure, are intriguing. And sometimes it has to do with swallowing lies, even when you know the truth.”

Justin Hayford, Reader—“Neil LaBute’s 2008 play, his first to reach Broadway, is a crafty, funny critique of the male sense of entitlement, performed here with passionate precision by Rick Snyder’s engaging cast. It’s smart and interesting, but LaBute can’t quite extract great drama from his volatile material. He lets only one character face serious consequences, and then only in the final scene.”

John Beer, Time out—“ Much of all this is standard-issue LaButean bad behavior, though colored by an intriguing class consciousness: Greg’s interactions with nasty buddy Kent (Stolte) are routinely interrupted by the factory floor bell; Steph and Greg’s breakup takes place against the dismal backdrop of a food-court Panda Express. The penultimate scene, in which the ex-couple tries to sort out their history, strikes notes of unusual tenderness, suggesting the misanthropic writer may yet have surprises in store for us. Profiles’s ensemble digs deeply into the play’s paranoid, vulnerable quartet. Few actors in the city can play wounded masculinity better than Cox; whether raging at Carly for her backstabbing or tussling with Kent on the softball diamond, his Greg stays sympathetic, even if you might not want to date him.”

Lisa Buscani, New City—“Neil LaBute’s reasons to be pretty continues his well-trod argument over surface versus content as seen in plays like The Shape of Things and Fat Pig. Points to LaBute for keeping the oft-examined debate from sinking to the formulaic. The heart of the piece is in the right place… Cox scores as Greg, a hapless guy who struggles for redemption; you want to slap him and hug him afterward. Nalepa’s fury is both painful and darkly funny; Stolte and Benson lay believable ground as a couple poised for a bad fall. Rick Snyder’s solid direction keeps the ensemble on a well-paced track. It’s a bittersweet look at mundane cruelty.”

Shining City, redtwist theatre

Nina Metz, Tribune—“ The Redtwist version, directed by Joanie Schultz, takes you much further into the play—it’s right there just a few feet away—which somehow only intensifies McPherson’s depiction of the many ways we all live isolated lives… It is worth noting that Redtwist significantly upped its design aesthetic a year ago, and artistic director Michael Colucci seems committed to sustaining that quality. With its hunter green walls, wood flooring and worn leather furniture, the set (from Nick Sieben and props designer Emily Guthrie) captures the right mood, as does Christopher Kriz’s sound design that uses pop songs to fill the transitions between scenes, including Todd Rundgren’s ‘Hello It’s Me’ and Elton John’s ‘Someone Saved My Life Tonight.’ These are careful selections that manage to work even when they are a tad too on the nose.”

Zac Thompson, Reader—“Ian is an ex-priest turned therapist who works out of a small, dingy, Dublin office and apparently has only one client, John, an older man who believes his recently deceased wife is haunting him. Scenes alternating with their sessions show Ian arguing with his fiancee and having an awkward encounter with a male prostitute—revealing that, like his patient, he leads a life of quiet desperation. Director Joanie Schultz catches the quiet in this Redtwist Theatre staging of Conor McPherson’s 2004 drama, but misses the desperation. John Arthur Lewis maintains a reserve that never cracks as Ian, while Brian Parry’s John is too mild-mannered and tweedy.”

Ryan Dolley, Time Out—“The care put into this production is palpable. Schultz’s direction surrounds the story with meticulous detail: the sound of tea brewing, the careful play of color and shadow in the transitions. Her feel for the psychology of the stage is evident in the fine performances she elicits. Parry has John perched on the edge of a dark eruption, and plays it with remarkable restraint. His masterful interactions with a pensive Lewis prove how vital small-stage realism can be."

Volpone, City Lit Theater Company

Kerry Reid, Reader—“Kingsley Day’s era-appropriate ballads lend a mild 1920s whimsy to Ben Jonson’s 400-year-old comic masterpiece about a con man’s comeuppance. But what Sheldon Patinkin’s uneven production really needs is a dose of Boardwalk Empire to draw out the tension between the superficial zest of the cons and the underlying malevolence of Jonson’s world. Still, the sardonic intelligence of the dialogue comes through. Don Bender and Eric Damon Smith deliver surefooted performances as the foxy title character and Mosca, his even more devious manservant.”

Zac Thompson, Time Out—“Humankind’s beastly instincts are Jonson’s target. A greedy, foxlike nobleman, Volpone, and his parasitical servant, Mosca, set out to scam the human vultures always circling the rich man’s gold by convincing them that Volpone is near death and that showering him with gifts is the only way to get into his will. Patinkin sets the action in the Roaring Twenties and gives it the antic tone of a madcap farce. The mix of breeziness and frenzy shortchanges the beauty of the verse and masks the true nastiness of the characters; still, it’s never less than lively and engaging.”

Neal Ryan Shaw, New City—“With Bernie Madoff in jail and Americans chomping at the bit to tar and feather the rest of the Wall Street hoodlums who put the country in its current economic mess, Ben Jonson’s fable about the pitfalls of greed proves timely. Making City Lit’s take on the play clear is its 1920s Art Deco production design, no doubt intended to echo the era leading up to America’s first financial crisis. Never mind that the play is set in Venice. Don Bender plays the wily fox of the title, who with the assistance of his servant Mosca dupes Venice’s greediest citizens into believing he is deathly ill and giving him bribes in return for the top spot in his will. Bender proves a competent master of the language, but his deliberateness with the text encapsulates a show-wide easygoing pace that tends to undermine the comedy.”