PLAY REVIEW: Burning Down The House ★★★★

Who owns a story? In an age of contested narratives and artists mining the lives of others, Breach Theatre’s Burning Down the House poses a question that feels increasingly urgent. Written by Ellice Stevens and Billy Barrett, and directed by Barrett, this lively, provocative production gives Laura Kieler, the real-life inspiration behind Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House, the opportunity to reclaim her own narrative.

At the heart of the drama is Jacoba Williams, whose performance as Kieler provides the production with its emotional anchor. Williams charts her character’s gradual unravelling with striking conviction, making Laura’s descent into desperation feel painfully human rather than melodramatic. Her defiance is particularly compelling: this is a woman determined to be heard, even as the men around her attempt to control her story.

Ellice Stevens provides an intriguing counterpoint as Nora, the fictional heroine whose story threatens to eclipse Laura’s own. The contrast between Nora’s apparent naivety and Laura’s fierce independence gives the production much of its dramatic bite. Sophie Steer is equally effective as Suzannah Ibsen, bringing warmth and complexity to a character caught between loyalty and complicity. Peter Clements makes for a quietly chilling Ibsen, while Yasser Zadeh deftly navigates the contrasting roles of Victor Kieler and Torvald. Together, the ensemble shifts between historical reconstruction and theatrical invention with considerable energy.

Barrett’s direction keeps the material moving, balancing moments of humour with the darker consequences of betrayal and exploitation. Laura Hopkins’s set design, Moa Johansson’s costumes, Will Monks’s lighting and Hugh Sheehan’s sound design create a flexible theatrical world that supports the production’s restless shifts in perspective. Leanne Pinder’s movement direction further enriches its physical storytelling.

Emerging from years of research by Professor Kirsten Shepherd, Tzen Sam and translator Gaye Kynoch, this is more than an exercise in literary revisionism. It asks whether artistic brilliance can excuse personal cruelty, and who pays the price when another person’s suffering becomes somebody else’s masterpiece. Laura Kieler may have been written out of literary history, but here she gets the final word.