A modern re-hash of Henrik Ibsen's Lady from the Sea at London's Bridge Theatre fails to whip up a storm, Patrick Marmion writes in a review published Thursday. The production stars Andrew Lincoln of The Walking Dead, Oscar-winner Alicia Vikander, and Joe Alwyn—the actor long linked to Taylor Swift—in a reworked version directed by Simon Stone.
The drama centers on Edward, a blasé neurosurgeon who lives near Ullswater in the Lake District. He runs ten miles a day and keeps a rosé glass perpetually in his hand. Since losing his last wife to suicide (for reasons not explained on stage), he has married Ellida, played by Vikander, who is revealed to have endured an abusive relationship with a jailed eco-warrior from her past. The cast also includes Heath, Edward’s distant cousin played by Alwyn, who is diagnosed with a grimly terminal motor-neuron disease. Rounding out the household are Edward’s bolshy teenage daughter Hilda, who finds Heath’s illness intriguing rather than tragic, and Lyle, Edward’s best friend and fellow brain surgeon, who dispenses endless dad jokes. Edward’s other daughter, Asa, a brilliant Yale PhD student, funds her studies by uploading social media content that references her sexual autonomy, a device Marmion notes as part of a glib tone that undercuts darker themes.
There is striking staging on view, including a Cumbrian rainstorm and an on-stage swimming pool, elements that Marmion says briefly illuminate the show’s theatrical flair. Yet, he writes, Stone’s adaptation reduces the tantalising trio of eye-catching names into a blandly homogenous group—“wittering, health-conscious hedonists” with no discernible cultural, moral, or political compass between them.
Marmion singles out Vikander’s Ellida as a figure who remains an evasive mystery rather than a fully realized protagonist, while Alwyn’s Heath is described as a tortured loose end whose fate is treated with inappropriate levity by Edward’s household. The critic notes that the tonal shift away from Ibsen’s darker themes toward flippant gags and brisk humor underlines a broader misalignment between material and execution. The production’s visual power — the stormy weather, the pool, the slick stagecraft — proves insufficient to offset what Marmion calls a lack of substantive insight or moral center.
With the run time approaching three hours, Marmion argues the piece remains appreciably light on serious engagement. While the show offers technical polish and high-profile names, the emotional return for audiences is described as undercooked. The review also touches on offstage chatter about Lincoln’s willingness to appear naked on screen at age 50, noting his comments to The Times about nude scenes and detailing that his teenage children reportedly have not welcomed such disclosures. Marmion concludes that, despite moments of audacity and humor, the production does not justify its length or its star power.
The Lady From the Sea at the Bridge Theatre thus lands as a stylish, if unsettled, attempt to modernize a century-old saga. It wields impressive design and a charismatic cast, yet Marmion argues that the result is a melodrama without a clear moral or political throughline, leaving its audience in search of the storm it promised but never fully delivered.