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Stars explained: * A production of no real merit
with failings in all areas. ** A production showing evidence of not
enough time or effort, or even talent, and which never breathes any real
life into the piece – or a show lumbered with a terrible script. *** A
good enjoyable show which might have some small flaws but has largely
achieved what it set out to do.**** An excellent show which shows a
great deal of work and stage craft with no noticeable or major
flaws.***** A four star show which has found that extra bit of magic
which lifts theatre to another plane. |
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Leonie Slater as Yelena and Dave Crossfield as Astrov Pictures: Richard Smith Photography Uncle Vanya The Loft Theatre, Leamington ***** This riveting, supremely polished, finely-judged production by David Fletcher of Chekhov's Uncle Vanya ticked every one of the right boxes. The set, by Amy Carroll, notable for rather magnificent windows, and modest furniture, was wholly apt for a comfortable if slightly decaying country estate. The Lighting (Malcolm Hunt) did likewise - shifting at times, with the contrasting onset of evening and night, at times brighter day, though subdued. Costumes (the ever-versatile Helen Brady) all enterprising and appropriate. And the characters: every one beautifully drawn, women and men alike. Full of vitality but doomed, as Chekhov has it, to pessimism and - excepting perhaps the very old and unaware, disappointment: even, in the case of Sonya (Rosie Pankhurst), distress. I was lucky enough to have with me an experienced Russian lady friend, Vera Sabotskaya, who knows most of Chekhov's plays backwards, not just in Russian but English, and who explained to me the most important point: that this production was so good because, as she knew, it was utterly loyal to Chekhov. It did not play around with or mistreat the script (a few adaptations or adjustments Fletcher made were wholly suitable and right). They looked exactly like the kind of bored country entourage that still exists in rural parts today, in Russia, Belarus or the Ukraine. So skilled were performers and direction, we could easily be in 1899, when Stanislavsky first played Astrov. The setting was not dull, drab, let alone dismal; in fact quite agreable and habitable. But you can tell how the tedium might grow of being stuck there, with only yourselves - or regular visitors - for entertainment.
Rosie Pankhurst as the lovelorn Sonya and Elaine Freeborn as the comforting Nanny So what of those characters' interplay? The script brings all together in pairs, so that the Angsts or vain hopes can be expounded in constantly revealing duets. What's more, several - most in fact - have a substantial piece of soliloquy, whether or not someone else is onstage. Vanya (Ivan) is not categorically the only important figure, but Mark Crossley's extraordinary energy and inventiveness, by and large, dominated the evening. You only have to watch his brilliant hyperactivity to be dazzled and delighted. Pointing (two hands or one) in every direction, stroking his forehead, ruffling his hair, hands shaking, scratching his cheek, rubbing, leaping, leaning, tensed up, fist clenched, legs shuddering, eyebrows alive with amazement or horror. It was a display of mastery, and as long as his zooming around didn't obstruct the text, he was awesomely good. Except self-obsessed: 'If you only knew how unhappy I am'. And that to Sonya. Pretty insensitive. The main character in constant combative discussion with Vanya is Doctor Astrov, played by Dave Crossfield. Once his fondness for the bottle grew obvious, his well-dressed Astrov - who finds being a country doctor brings him scant satisfaction, and visits to the Serebryakov estate at least some kind of diversion - achieves a terrific presence; his obsession with growing old matched only by his (rather modern) obsession with saving flora and fauna, plans to plant new forests (in a land where vast forests are de rigueur). 'No more drinking: I give you my word.' Astrov is the intelligent one; but lacking in emotion, he has no idea, and couldn't care, that Sonya is helplessly in love with him. Despite himself, he has a gift of attracting women. Yelena for instance: 'I'll always remember you with pleasure. You're fascinating.' Astrov embarks on an insightful soliloquy (she still onstage). And then - 'We meet and part. It's the way of the world.'
Mark Crossley as Vanya, and Rosie Pankhurst as Sonya with Mark Roberts as Telegin in the rear There are lesser parts which still made their mark. Mariya (Wendy Morris) provides a nicely distrait grandmother figure. Elaine Freeborn as the Nanny is a joy whenever she's onstage. The admirable Mark Roberts plays the bankrupted Ilya Ilych Telegin, who lives on the others' estate, cards wool with Granny, sits in a window with a guitar (ever-capable Jonathan Fletcher provides the actual sound), and although maybe not over intelligent supplies some teasingly enjoyable and sympathetic conversations with the leads. The owner, Aleksandr Serebryakov (David Bennett) is - at least in Vanya's view - a distinctly tedious old codger obsessed with writing, books and his library. In fact he turns out to be quite generous in the end, although his decision (not to sell the estate) commits Vanya and Sony to a continuing life of tedium (relieved splendidly at the end, when after numerous frustrations and disappointments they settle down actually to do something - in this case the accounts. If the male roles - Vanya and Astrov - assume precedence, towards the close it's the women to whom Chekhov allots the primacy. The scene between Sonya and the (already agitated) young wife Yelena is the most touching in the play. Sonya is - hopelessly - in love with Astrov. Yelena, having patched up a disagreement we are perhaps not aware of, takes it upon herself to find out, subtly, if he has any feelings at all for Sonya. The answer is as firm a 'no' as the Professor’s grumpy and unforgivable refusal to let his wife play the piano while he works. 'My emotions have died.' 'You can see a slow and steady decline': about the estate, but it also fits himself. These two - Rosie Panhurst (Sonya) and Yelena (Leonie Slater) provide us with the most moving and sensitive passage in the play. Yelena has to resist Vanya's rather disgusting approaches (she succeeds, but he keeps coming back; she's 27, but he first desired her aged 17). But it's the two women's extended exchange, Yelena's generosity of spirit, her insistence that Sonya is not 'plain' ('I know that I'm plain, but it still hurts that I'm not pretty'; 'I'm so ugly: I've loved him now for six years') which substantially outdoes the men's embittered if entertaining battling. Chekhov's (Ibsen-like) ability to depict women's emotions is one of his supreme gifts (Sonya's 'And you must endure your sorrow too' could as easily be Varya in The Cherry Orchard. Final tribute - Sara Lane Rees's gorgeous cello solos (what rich, succulent tone) separating the Acts. Even when there are seven onstage, the positioning (blocking) is finely and thoughtfully managed. David Fletcher and his wonderfully adroit, capable team gave us a feast of first-class, professional acting and directing. One can ask for nothing more. To 02-11-24. Roderic Dunnett 24-10-24 |
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