Chastened, Or Insane?

Last year I wrote a bit about Hilton Als, New Yorker theatre critic. Apparently, he found Ibsen "boring." In fact, unless a production was propped up with the latest bells and whistles, Ibsen was all but unplayable.

Als' idea of good Ibsen was a production of A Doll's House where the women were around six feet tall and the men were all dwarfs. I admit I didn't catch this celebrated version, but it sure seems that whatever metaphorical power one gains from the casting must have dissipated pretty quickly.

That's why I was startled by this week's review of Hedda Gabler starring Cate Blanchett. He's actually angry that they've tampered with the text to present a (somewhat) different Hedda from what you normally see. At one point he's even bothered that Ibsen's stage directions are not followed. Could this be the same man?

My guess is he got so much (deserved) grief from his slam of Ibsen, that he went back and read the originals, and developed a new-found respect. That or he's pretending.