Hugo Glendinning

It can sometimes spell trouble for the audience when a play has no likable characters, but not so in the riveting revival of August Strindberg's 1888 play Creditors at BAM, which features three miserable characters as appalling as they are enthralling. Set entirely in a high-ceiling, sun-drenched room at a seaside resort, the 90 minute "tragicomedy" pulls you in with force of a relentless riptide, dragging you helplessly into the vortex of one of the most brutal love triangles in modern theater. At some point you might feel like you're drowning in the torrid passion of these characters, but then the bitterly dark humor of David Greig's adaption breathes fresh air into your lungs.

Expertly directed by Alan Rickman (Die Hard), the story centers on a sickly artist named Adolph (Tom Burke), who is anxiously awaiting the return of his new wife Tekla (the exquisite Anna Chancellor) from a trip. To pass the time, he's joined by a newfound companion, Gustav, an erudite older scholar played by the deliciously malicious Owen Teale. Gustav has taken a special interest in Adolph's marriage, and after winning his trust through a seemingly clairvoyant insight into the couple's domestic problems, Gustav proceeds to systematically eradicate Adolph's faith in his wife and their relationship. By the time Tekla sweeps in—radiating bohemian sophistication and overbearing self-confidence—Adolph has had his insecurities manipulated into a fever. And though Gustav has withdrawn, Tekla immediately senses that a third party has somehow poisoned her marriage.

What's revealed in the disintegration that follows won't be spoiled here; just know that one of the dark beauties of this bracing play is how the subtle chain of events extends back to the very beginning, when Adolph tells Gustav, "I needed a push." Strindberg, who supposedly based Creditors on his own wretched marriage experience, gives us characters so pitiful, self-absorbed, and vengeful that we can't help but laugh. But when the laughter subsides, you're left wondering, "I'm not as selfish and malicious as this crowd... am I?"