Review of The Doctor at the Park Avenue Armory

Last year, I had the pleasure of seeing both of Robert Icke’s Hamlet and the Oresteia over at the Park Avenue Armory, and I fell not only in love with the space and the work they do, but also with Icke’s vision.

I thought his version of Hamlet was seriously well done, and although the Oresteia began to get a bit difficult to get through in the three and a half hour mark, I generally liked it—but note that I am not a scholar of the original play.

My boss, who knows the play well, ended up walking out because she didn’t like what Icke did with the work at all. So when I saw the Armory was doing another Icke production, I waited for it to appear on TDF.

Thankfully, it came onto TDF the week I was going to see the show. I heard whispers that it wasn’t selling well at all, and when I got my TDF ticket, it was in what I considered to be a premium seat. Row H in Seat 105 truly was the perfect spot to watch this—right in the center, lots of leg room, and the sight lines were insanely good considering the layout of the minimalistic stage in this production. The great irony is that the understudy was on for the lead the night I saw the show, which was truly sad for me. I will never probably see Juliet Stevenson on stage most likely.

Now I have a lot of thoughts about this show, which will take up a bulk of the review, but I think I’ve rambled enough already in this intro. Onwards with the review!

After denying a patient access to a priest before dying, cancel culture appears for one doctor.

This is a play that’s truly thought provoking because it’s one that challenges you. It’s based on an old Austrian play from 1912, Professor Bernhadi, which was written by a Jewish Austrian playwright in that period.

The original text is about anti-Semitism, which does appear in this production, but this begins to be dropped by the end of the second act. Icke is making a broader point about ethics, cancel culture, and the assumptions we place on others in this piece, which is where it diverges from the inspirational text.

The beginning of The Doctor begins with introducing the doctors in the staff, which is led by the founder, Ruth Wolff. When a patient that’s fourteen comes in with sepsis due to an abortion attempt, a priest is sent by the girl’s parents to give her last rites. They all know she is dying, but Ruth denies him access saying that his presence might upset her more. Towards the end of their conversation, she puts a hand on him, presumed to be a shove, while the girl dies in the other room.

So begins a witch hunt. The hospital staff is divided between the religious Christian members and the Jewish ones, with blatantly anti-Semitic statements being hurled by the Deputy Director, and the outside world is pressuring the staff even more. The Deputy Director also seems to be heavily involved with leaking information, but that’s never confirmed. Eventually, as things start to blow up, Ruth steps down and the play just gets worse for her from there.

Let’s discuss the strengths first. The acting in this production is well-done, and everyone plays a clearly defined role in this tale and does it well.

The characters from the first act disappear in the second when Ruth steps down, minus a few, and so several of the actors switch and play completely different roles ideologically. Kudos to them for doing that. On the other hand, Ruth slowly descends into a state of depression and anger as she is stripped of her only identifier in life: Doctor.

Ruth clearly isn’t meant to be a hero, but Icke is making a specific point when both liberal and conservative groups come after her. She doesn’t understand life outside of simplistic labels, but when she is attacked live on a talk show and shamed for her past with an abortion, this says something deeper about the societies we’re living in right now.

Although I agree with the liberal side when they come down on Ruth, the public shaming and witch hunt is putting the pressure even more on her, and I think no one truly deserves what happened to her there. These are acts of cruelty to me, one that sees other people as less than human. That’s what radicalizes people at the end of the day.

Then there’s the entire section and hours we could spend talking about the race blind casting. We’re projecting our own assumptions onto these characters based on how they appear, but as the play progresses, we learn the actors aren’t largely playing the race or faith they appear to be.

The priest is revealed to be Black, while other members of the hospital are white men (played by a Black woman) or a Black religious man (played by a white actor). Suddenly Icke is scrutinizing us and the assumptions we’re making initially about these people and characters.

Overall Thoughts

This was a fascinating and well-acted play. It wasn’t my favorite, though, because of how much it tries to cram in, but I see why Icke was making the decisions he did.

I think there’s a question too about casting white men to play Black characters regardless of what point you’re trying to make, but that’s a discussion for another time.

I wish I could’ve seen Stevenson, but the understudy is really good too! I’d say check this one out if it interests you before it’s gone, but I wouldn’t spend a ton of money on it if you’re tight on cash.

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