Imagine Ibsen’s A Doll’s House, staged as a sort of salon game, in a real couple’s home serving as a set for the classic drama of duty versus love. Fix+Foxy’s innovative production, conceived in 2014 by director Tue Biering and dramaturg Jeppe Kristensen, strips away every theatrical convention to deliver what they boldly claim is ‘the most realistic version ever’ of the playwright’s most performed work.
The concept is beguilingly simple: recognising Ibsen’s desire for theatre to mirror real life, the company stages the play in genuine homes with the residents themselves taking on Nora and Torvald Helmer. Thus the performance I saw last week took place in the compact but stylish Copenhagen flat of Emma and William, a young couple who’d recently relocated from Oslo. Their apartment — all tall ceilings, sparse Scandinavian furniture, and floor-to-ceiling windows — provided an appropriately intimate setting for what would prove to be an evening of remarkable theatrical intimacy.
The three professional actors—one woman and two men—arrive simultaneously with the small audience (just six of us), establishing immediately that this is uncharted territory for everyone involved. What follows is a masterclass in gentle theatrical coaxing. The actors possess sophisticated skills in both interviewing and improvisation, teasing out details about their hosts’ lives to weave into Ibsen’s narrative. When in the informal preamble they ask William about his dream job, it’s to properly contextualise Torvald’s promotion — a dramaturgical ruse by which the production adapts the classic text to each couple’s specific reality.
The evening’s genius lies in how it protects non-professional performers whilst maintaining authenticity. Rather than forcing Emma to act, her alter ego professional actress Anna Bjørgulf narrates her character’s internal experience — thoughts, sensations, emotions — occasionally feeding lines of dialogue for her to say as necessary. As a result, we accept both the trained performer and the hosting non-actor as equally valid theatrical presences.
The Doll’s House proves particularly suited to this format because Nora’s childishness, as prescribed by Ibsen, creates a pretext for a playful atmosphere. The evening begins with wine-fuelled flirtation as Nora (Emma) and Dr Rank (Ben Samuels) sip drinks under the dining table, whilst Torvald (William) is instructed to tickle his wife ‘in the places that he knows work.’ It’s an extraordinary moment — genuine intimate performance achieved effortlessly and, quite exceptionally, without the need for intimacy coordinators.
The playful opening extends to hide-and-seek with the audience, as we’re covered with blankets whilst Nora counts to twenty. And as the evening progresses, we will have watched the action from multiple other unexpected angles too, carefully shepherded around the flat by the multi-tasking performers. The gamification helps everyone relax whilst we simultaneously follow Ibsen’s narrative and observe the real couple navigating increasingly complex theatrical challenges.
The second half inevitably shifts towards darker territory. Emma must persuade William to restore Krogstad’s (Jakob Hannibal) job whilst giving him a massage — a scene that once again layers theatrical necessity with genuine physical intimacy. Later comes the agonising challenge of preventing him from reading Krogstad’s blackmailing SMS messages that reveal her character’s past transgressions.
When, according to Fix+Foxy’s script, the professional actor breaks character to flirt mischievously with host Emma during a seduction scene given by Ibsen to stretch Nora’s integrity to its limits, it provides crucial comic relief whilst demonstrating the production’s sophisticated understanding of when to maintain and when to shatter dramatic illusion – and how to heighten a moral dilemma in a way that works for a 21st century audience.
The evening’s emotional climax arrives when Emma finally allows William to read Krogstad’s message. Fed Torvald’s lines, William tells her she ‘disgusts’ him and expresses relief they have no children. The pain registers visibly — not just Emma’s, but that of the watching audience too. When Krogstad’s eventual change of heart allows Torvald’s forgiveness, Emma faces the crucial choice: accept a happy ending or acknowledge her hurt.
Guided by the professional actress, Emma articulates her pain and is coached through leaving the house—transforming Ibsen’s famous ending into a lived experience. Although we’ve witnessed something between rehearsal and performance, or workshop and art, the applause upon Emma’s return for the bow is genuinely heart-felt.
Having toured to Oslo, London and Paris over the last decade, the show is being revived for a forthcoming performance at the Asphalt Festival in Düsseldorf, and we are invited to stay for the post-show discussion. We knew from the outset that our host William happens to be a trained actor, but on this rare occasion he is commended for not acting at all! The ensemble reveals the production’s fundamental philosophy: rather than acting, they are interested in accessing real feelings through theatrical proxy. Those present are to observe actual relationship dynamics, using Ibsen’s structure as a framework for genuine human interaction.
What is remarkable is how much more these professional performers must master compared to traditional actors. They fluidly switch between self and character, operate on multiple performance tracks simultaneously, coach non-professionals, provide narration, reorganise space, teach movement sequences to an unsuspecting audience, and maintain dramatic flow — all whilst improvising responses to unpredictable human behaviour.
Existing in the liminal space between classic adaptation, workshop, site-specific performance, immersive theatre, and collaborative game, the production occasionally feels precarious, dependent entirely on the hosts’ willingness to engage their inner worlds and the audience’s generosity in maintaining the collective fiction. The performance I saw benefited enormously from Emma and William’s natural chemistry and willingness to be vulnerable. One suspects not every iteration achieves quite the same results.
That said, in an age of increasingly elaborate theatrical spectacle, Fix+Foxy’s radical simplicity feels both brave and necessary. By collapsing the boundary between performance and life, they’ve created something simultaneously ancient and revolutionary. It’s not always comfortable viewing, nor is it intended to be — watching real people navigate fictional emotional territory can be genuinely unsettling — but it’s undeniably powerful and eye-opening.
This post was written by the author in their personal capacity.The opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not reflect the view of The Theatre Times, their staff or collaborators.
This post was written by Duška Radosavljević.
The views expressed here belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect our views and opinions.
