Towards the end of his life, Swedish playwright August Strindberg, an early founder of modernism and naturalistic drama, began to turn to religion, and as a result, his dramas drifted from the realist style that defines his earlier work towards a more symbolic approach to the stage. Strindberg’s play Easter, while hailing from this late period (he wrote it in 1901, eleven years before his death in 1912), represents a meeting of the two styles – naturalist and symbolic – a realistic piece that is rife with Christian mysticism. With Undermain Theatre’s production of the play, Katherine Owens directs a robust production, one that focuses on the work’s essential dramatic movement: the redemptive journey through suffering.

The play takes place during Holy Week before the religious holiday of Easter in the small Swedish town of Lund where we meet the Heyst family. The father of the Heyst family is imprisoned for embezzlement, and the rest of the clan subsequently lives in social humiliation and inherited debt. Elis (David Goodwin), the son, is a thwarted teacher, who takes in the sons of his father’s financial victims. One former student has plagiarized his work for his doctorate, while his best pupil, Benjamin (Dan Schmoker), has just failed his Latin exam. Strindberg’s plot here is semi-autobiographical. His father was bankrupt, creditors were an ever-present threat, and he had unhappy memories of being a frustrated teacher.

The mother, Fru Heyst (Laura Jorgensen), in a desperate attempt to avoid her family’s bleak reality, holds out seemingly naïve hope that Mr. Heyst will find freedom on a legal technicality. Into this black cloud milieu returns beatific daughter Eleanora Heyst (Fiona Robberson), fresh from the asylum, and speaking words that are “strange and beautiful.”

The play hinges on the part of Eleanora, which was originally written for a young Norwegian actress named Harriet Bosse, whom Strindberg loved. The part is named for the playwright’s mother, and it is based on his own sister Elizabeth, who had also been in an asylum, lending Eleanora layered associations with the most important woman in Strindberg’s life.

Robberson, a fresh and lively vision as Juliet in Junior Players’ production of Romeo and Juliet last summer, burns with inward fervor here. She dispenses enigmatic observations and exhortations, like “it’s Easter and we must suffer,” with sincerity and genuineness, never becoming a caricature of a holy fool. Bruce DuBose as the creditor Lindquist, delivers a studied, deliberate portrayal that is a pleasure to witness.  He is an “ogre” who scares children and debtors alike with his stick and leather galoshes.

Owens uses an appropriately formal translation of Strindberg’s work by Michael Myer, which is supported by an inspired set design by Tony-winner and frequent Undermain collaborator, John Arnone. Lighting and sound (Steve Woods and DuBose) are suitably ominous and create a seamless piece of art with the action on stage. Costumes by Giva Taylor are complete and fitted well to the characters with lots of interesting details to round them out.

Owens’ interpretation of Strindberg’s play is forthright and respectful of material that may be too heartfelt or antiquated for the jaded and/ or non-spiritual. The play is laden with religious symbolism and earnest talk about redemption. When some audience members over-laughed at some of these moments, it was hard to tell if they mistook the sincerity as farce, or if the laughter was a release, a manifestation of a nervousness born out of an emotionally fraught drama. Nonetheless, the audience was rapturous and appreciative though out, held in patient attention by this strong production of a unique and complex play, which holds its own blessed rewards.