Director Bart DeLorenzo bluntly assesses LA theater while remaking Ibsen's 'Enemy of the People'
Published in Entertainment News
LOS ANGELES — Bart DeLorenzo, L.A.'s most playfully provocative theater auteur, doesn't need any excuses to direct a Henrik Ibsen play. But if ever there was a moment to revive "An Enemy of the People," it's now.
The demoralizing spectacle of the U.S. Senate's inquisition of Dr. Anthony Fauci last month, led by Sen. Rand Paul (R-Ky.) in unapologetic witch-hunt mode, was yet another reminder that Ibsen's drama about a public health crusader being targeted by politicians and business leaders when his medical advice goes counter to their interests hasn't lost its punch.
"I love Ibsen's work," DeLorenzo said at lunch at the Original Farmers Market on a recent weekday. "I'd love to do all of his plays, but of course I'm responding to this moment. You can't turn on the news without hearing the phrase 'enemy of the people,' and it's not just poor Dr. Fauci. Every week there's something — the new vaccine regulations, global warming. This conflict between science and government, or really just the manipulation of facts to press agendas, is an issue that's probably never going to go away."
DeLorenzo adapted the play himself for his production, which opened Saturday at the Odyssey Theatre, where he directed Ibsen's "Ghosts" in 2022. His title, "Enemy of the People," dispenses with the indefinite article — a decision he chalked up to "Chekhovian impulses."
"I don't think the play is about one person who stands up against society," he explained. "The phrase in 2026 is a weapon that's thrown around. I tried to look at the play as an ensemble piece, in which the concept of 'enemy of the people' is variously targeted on different characters. I thought that was a much more exciting idea."
The protagonist of Ibsen's play, Dr. Thomas Stockmann, is a staff physician at the municipal spa baths, the town's economic lifeblood. He detects contamination from industrial waste, and when he tries to warn the public, he's branded an enemy of the people by political and business leaders, who care more about money than the welfare of the community.
DeLorenzo included "Enemy" on a long list of plays he was interested in when the Odyssey asked him what he'd like to do next. The theater, no surprise, went with the Ibsen work that seems written expressly for this wacky MAHA moment.
But while DeLorenzo recognizes "Enemy" as a political play, he also sees it as a complex drama about a family in crisis. "Like the Greeks, Ibsen uses the family as an image of society," he said. "So we watch these fights within a family, which represent the fights that we're all having together, trying to move forward as a culture."
No one has to remind DeLorenzo of the play's "sober reputation." A playwright friend emailed him when the production was announced with a simple message: "Bart, lighten up!" The play, which includes a town hall run amok, has a reputation for being shouty.
"My production is definitely not that," he said. "I was struck by this letter that Ibsen writes to his publisher, where he says he's not sure if this play is a comedy or a drama. I've really tried to embrace the comedy, because some scenes are completely satirical and fun. I wanted to present this play in all its kaleidoscopic power instead of just as a political tract."
He's streamlined the drama to an hour and 40 minutes and cut and combined some characters, though he promises that audiences will be encountering "the whole play." He's also updated the period. The look of Frederica Nascimento's set might put one in mind of a stylish couple's Echo Park starter home. And the media landscape now centers on the internet and social media rather than a printing press.
But DeLorenzo's biggest liberty comes in the final scene, which he calls his own "composition." He was inspired by the endings of "A Doll's House" and "Ghosts." And he took a close look at Arthur Miller's version of "Enemy," but he rejected the depiction of Stockmann's character as the heroic whistleblower who stands alone with the truth.
"Ibsen's ending is sly," he said. "I would call it mock heroic or satiric. Miller's is more of a sledgehammer. I wanted to write an ending for this moment that would connect with audiences."
The founding artistic director of Evidence Room, DeLorenzo has extensive ties within L.A.'s intimate theater scene. But he's working with many of the actors in this production of "Enemy" for the first time, including Jay Paulson, who plays Tom Stockmann as a gangly, eccentric, socially awkward science nerd, and Cara Mitsuko, who takes on the role of Stockmann's long-suffering wife, Kate.
"I collaborated with the great casting director Nicole Arbusto, who has cast some of the most exciting things in film, television and theater. She's very special and found these wonderful actors."
DeLorenzo, who teaches at the California Institute of the Arts, where I'm also on the faculty, has been working in recent years as a director for hire. But he said that Evidence Room is still alive and that he maintains relationships with the community of artists who have been part of the company, which was established in 1995.
"I would love to do another production," he said. "It's just that as people get older, their lives get more complicated."
If he were starting out today, would it be possible to launch a company like Evidence Room?
"Tragically, no," he answered. "1995 was actually a pretty good moment. There was more money in the arts, more respect for the arts and more arts coverage. I think the larger theaters were slightly more L.A.-focused than in the current climate. Danny Feldman at Pasadena Playhouse is an exception, but it saddens me how little the large theaters that pay salaries look to Los Angeles artists. There are so many co-productions created in other cities that come here, along with touring productions. As wonderful as some of these are, I don't think it helps the arts of our city distinguish themselves."
When I started at The Times in 2006, Evidence Room was the cool kid on the scene. It was the theater where Megan Mullaly met her future husband, Nick Offerman, when the two were cast in the 2000 Evidence Room production of "The Berlin Circle." What was the guiding vision of this rambunctious company?
"It was about expressing the moment and creating a creative space for exciting adventures," he said. "The governing aesthetic was finding really interesting plays and performance pieces to provoke. So we wanted to make a space that was exciting before the play and a place that was exciting after the play, and then like a really provocative piece of theater in the middle of it."
Theater, in other words, that was creating a sense of belonging and not simply stoking an appetite for consuming.
"We were part of that ethos of the Big Cheap Theater movement," he said. "And there were a handful of us that felt like we were in the same club. We would share resources, and artists would cross-pollinate. We would open the bar after the show, and people would come by after their shows."
Intimate theater in L.A. has still not recovered from the COVID-19 pandemic. The fallout from the 2016 Actors' Equity Assn. agreement, which imposed an hourly minimum wage for members who perform in Los Angeles County theater with fewer than 100 seats, is still being felt. And the impact of California's Assembly Bill 5, which reclassified low-stipend theater workers as full employees, has further fueled the soaring cost of production.
"I understand and sympathize with what the actors' union was responding to," he said. "And I was very curious about how this change would evolve. Of course, one of the issues in 'Enemy of the People' is that any kind of administrative body is never able to admit a mistake. I think we have enough evidence right now to look at what that change has enacted. And I don't think anyone who did that analysis would say that it has benefited actors in L.A., art in L.A., or audiences in L.A. I look back to when I was starting my company, and I think of the extraordinary range of productions, the amount of creativity that was in the air. You would see these fantastic full-scale Brecht productions with like 25 people, and they would take the city by storm. All of those have ended."
For DeLorenzo, it comes down to a question of what does it mean to volunteer? "I have no problem with the word 'amateur,'" he said. "It comes from the Latin verb to love, and I think there's something important about that. I've done jobs for money and I've done jobs for love. And I've enjoyed them equally. And I don't think that the union or the labor board has looked at this in the most realistic way by asking the question: 'OK, if we make this change, can actors now make a living doing this?' And they cannot, so what are we doing? Why are we pretending?"
If he were L.A.'s theater czar, his first order of business would be to infuse more money into the scene. But another top priority would be bolstering the city's cultural self-esteem.
"Think of the impact of something as silly as the 'I Love New York' movement on New York theater," he said. "L.A. has always been a little bit ashamed of our theater. And I think the leaders of our largest theaters have always been a little bit ashamed of L.A. theater artists. And it's a self-perpetuating system. If you're an intimate theater artist in Los Angeles, you can't graduate to the next level. You have to leave town to graduate. I wish that had changed over my time here in L.A., but it has not."
For DeLorenzo, the New York aesthetic revolves around "a play set in an apartment with a couch." What he finds special about the L.A. aesthetic is the expansiveness of the vision. But the desire to put the world on stage has become exceedingly difficult to economically pull off.
"I know theaters are going through a really hard time right now," he said. "Even the well-funded theaters. But I think there is a selfish mentality of we just need to survive. These theaters are choosing productions that I can't believe anyone is proud of. There's a line in my adaptation of 'Enemy of the People,' in which a character uses the term 'leaders.' And Tom Stockmann says, 'Leaders? What? Who are you talking about? They're followers. They're DJs taking requests.' And I feel that way about many of our theater leaders: They're taking requests."
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