Hedgerow Theatre presents Stef Smith’s Nora: A Doll’s House

Smith’s reframing of the Ibsen classic has the same narrative structure as A Doll’s House, although it follows three different Noras in three timelines, played by three actors interchangeably, and at times simultaneously.

Nora follows Nora Helmer, a dutiful wife and mother who is happy, she swears. A year ago, when her husband Thomas was sick and couldn’t work, she illegally obtained a loan to keep her family afloat. She’s proud of her industriousness, as she tells her old friend Christine, who has come to visit after years apart. But Nora’s past is coming back to haunt her in the form of Nathan, an employee of the bank Thomas has recently taken over. He has found evidence of Nora’s crime and is blackmailing her in an attempt to keep his job.

The work of three women

Amanda Schoonover stands out as Nora 1 in 2018, a sassy, potty-mouthed drunk who’s not above using her sexuality to get what she wants. Kaitlyn Cheng’s Nora 2 is more reserved, allowing her face to tell the story of the burden that’s weighing on her in 1973—not coincidentally, the year abortion was legalized in the United States (does she regret having her children?) A contemplative Mallory Avnet, as Nora 3 in 1920, struggles with the question of whether being a wife and a mother is truly enough, especially since she has gained the right to vote. Could she have done more?

The device of three women playing one isn’t lost on this reviewer. In recent years, we’ve been having a lot of discussions about the mental load women face, particularly when it comes to domestic work. Smith obviously intends to show how women have been dealing with the same gendered issues for the better part of the past 100 years, but the playwright is also putting a fine point on the idea that it actually takes three wives and mothers to do the work that’s expected of one.

A triple timeline

Schoonover, Cheng, and Avnet wear costumes (by Erin Prokopchak) in a similar palette, a mix of reds and neutrals, with styling to indicate their time period (Schoonover, the most modern Nora, gives a glimpse of ankle and thigh tattoos). Repeated references to Nora 1’s cellphone emphasize her 21st-century setting. Especially since Shannon Zura’s set (spare except for a few pieces of furniture and an occasional gramophone) doesn’t do much to clarify which time period(s) we’re operating in, small touches like this remind us that this story is taking place on three different timelines, as three Noras twirl around each other onstage and trade off the role of Christine.

Men hurt by the patriarchy

The female leads aren’t the only characters offering a deeper commentary in this production. Nathan, played adeptly by Michael Stahler, isn’t just a bank employee. He’s also a desperate widower who doesn’t know how he’ll provide for his children should he lose his job. Women especially will recognize Nathan as the quintessential Nice Guy™ who surely thinks of himself as an ally despite refusing to see the similarity between his position now and Nora’s a year ago (this brings to mind a 2022 Harvard Business Review study that found a persistent gender gap in perceptions of equality in the workplace). Nathan is another victim of the system that left Nora desperate, although it takes him a while to realize this.

Angel Sigala plays Daniel, a family friend who brings high emotional stakes, including a devastating medical diagnosis, though he makes light of it to Nora despite a sad resignation in his eyes. It makes us in the audience wonder: was Daniel’s diagnosis a long time coming? How long was he coughing before seeking medical help? It’s a question sure to strike women in the audience, who no doubt have begged male partners or family members to go see a doctor.

The man with the most stage time is Nora’s husband Thomas (Ahren Potratz in an emotional performance). His character is stagnant, a model archetype. He wears his work suit (he is pointedly never seen in anything else), counts money in his palm, gropes his wife, and repeatedly asks her what she’s so upset about. He doesn’t understand her and isn’t successful in his lukewarm attempts to cheer her up and connect with her.

For women who wonder

All three Noras, despite the years between them, live quiet lives as wives and mothers: their homes and clothing modest, their children playful, their voices dimmed—until Christine’s visit reminds Nora of who she once was, and who she could be. Hedgerow’s Nora is for women who sometimes wonder what else is out there, and for the men who want to understand them.