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| Edinburgh : A&E : Theatre: Reviews |
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Theatre listings > Uncle Vanya Playwright - Anton Chekhov, translated by Tom Leonard A revelatory revival. Even in the crowded Chekhov schedules of modern theatre, this stands out for its intelligence and integrity. Babel's been carrying the flag of Scottish theatre down to Manchester and York for several productions now, and this Chekhov's among their strongest offerings, justifying the company's policy of giving classics a Scottish flavour. The English accents of the visitors - dry as dust old academic Serebryakov Peter D'Souza who's been living off the proceeds of his daughter Sonya's, Isabelle Joss, country estate for years, and his second wife, the beautiful young outsider Helena - mark them out from the rural community of the family, plus their local friends and neighbours. Vanya's creeping up his late forties. He can still be a spry, elegant if purposeless character. But Brian Pettifer - whose Vanya doesn't enter in act one as usual, being discovered asleep in his armchair from the start - makes him a shambling character, someone who'll always be in the shade of John Kazek's smart friend, the doctor Astrov. Pettifer's strength lies in keeping our interest and sympathy for Vanya alive. Kazek's Astrov is balanced on a cusp in McLaren's tightly-focused direction. On one side, he's still passionate about the environment that a stupid society's been wasting over the decades. Close up to the beautiful Helena, his mission to save the forests still absorbs his attention. On the other side, the later scenes show how the vodka is taking hold, giving rise to the fear he's a wasted Vanya in the making. McLaren also designs, a spare, dark environment backed by three huge window-panels giving onto the environment Astrov so loves. There's no piano, so Helena's Clara Onymere musical talent is changed to singing. When, at the halfway point, she and Sonya establish a friendship at night, Helena stands tall on the table to make music. It's a strong image, magnifying Serebryakov's killjoy impact on her life as he refuses permission for a song because he's trying to calm his hypochondria into sleep. It's a pacy show - no lingering wistfulness but snappy human relationships. General updating to something like a mid-20th century world allows Helena to exist in a pre-liberated society yet to have enough assurance to row openly, and loudly, with her bad-tempered Prof. husband. The rowing makes clear her unhappiness long before Chekhov allows her the joy of admitting to Sonya how she hates being married to the old man. It may shift part of the play's exposition but it works, with modern audiences picking up on Helena's 'secret' regret far quicker than playgoers in 'late Victorian' Russia. Every performance demonstrates the thoughtfulness of McLaren's direction, and the acting quality Babel can call on nowadays. Vanya's mum Maria Nan Kerr - as besotted with Serebryakov as old Mrs Orgon was with Moliere's Tartuffe - is no fuddled old matriarch, but a sprightly, dignified lady. And Bill Murdoch's neighbour is unusually forceful - this is a society where everyone has a voice. Helena isn't the languid lady she often seems, but a tragic figure who attracts every man around, yet somehow finds when the testosterone has stopped whirling, she's left in a void. Sonya, whose plain features means she always loses out to her young stepmother, is ironically one of the most beautifully-drawn characters in the whole of theatre. For a long time it seems as if Isabelle Joss is playing her simply as a childlike cypher, someone who owns, but does not seem to possess, the estate. Yet by her moving final speech to Vanya, assuring him they will find peace, she has discovered her own inner resources and we have seen her grow with that discovery. It's another aspect of an exciting revival. This is the kind of work any country should be proud of in its theatre.
It's amazing - and anyone outwith Scotland would surely be astonished
to find - that this company's future has been in question recently. If
the people who sign the cheques have a scruple of dramatic intelligence,
Babel's future will now be assured. Theatre listings >>
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