How much new life can you put in this Chekhov play? How much new life do you need to put in this Chekhov play? For this co-production between the Belgrade and the Arcola in London, the director Helena Kaut-Howson has come up with a new translation of the play with Jon Strickland, also one of her actors. She’s edited it a bit, taken the odd liberty, added an ambient soundtrack, put it all on a thrust stage with a turn-of-the-century Russian interior that blends, without walls, into the birch trees beyond. Red neon glows discreetly between scenes.
The design, by Sophie Jump, is striking and evocative. The soundtrack is a mixed blessing: when you don’t notice it, it’s doing its job; when you wonder if someone is playing his Brian Eno CD backstage, it obstructs. But the stuff that matters, the acting, has a lot going for it. The material has been tweaked, not reinvented, but if that’s helped the cast to achieve this kind of clarity then job done.
And the material, of course, is magnificent. In the faded estate owned by Serebryakov, a retired academic, his daughter Sonya and brother-in-law Vanya take care of business . But when he comes to spend the summer there with Yelena, his beautiful young second wife, town meets country, the idle rich meet their dog-tired relatives, everyone falls for Yelena.
As Yelena, Marianne Oldham exudes elegance, decency, disappointment and self-awareness. The scene in which she spurns Simon Gregor’s Astrov is a wonder: we can see the effort of Yelena’s restraint but not the effort of Oldham. Gregor is just as good. An outsider, a professional who knows his worth, his Astrov emits a self-reliance that’s curdling into cynicism. He does worse than spurn the lovestruck Sonya: he doesn’t even perceive her.
And there are fine turns from Hara Yannas, whose Sonya is the emotional engine room for the second half; Geoffrey Whitehead, as the blithely patrician Serebryakov; and Paul Bigley as the tragicomic Telegin, whose talk is in stark contrast to his circumstances. Strickland’s Vanya is self-conscious, though. Yes, that’s the part, but he oversells the sighs, puts too much of his brokenness on the surface. Perhaps working on the text has made him too aware of its effects: some of the later, quieter, moments suggest he could relax into the role as the run goes on.
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So there are moments that don’t yet gel. But this is a lucid and ultimately affecting production of a great play.
Box office: 024-7655 3055, to April 23. Arcola, London E8 (020-7503 1646), April 27 to June 4