John Kuntz and Marissa Rae Roberts

Earlier this year, John Kuntz introduced us to a diverse cast of characters amidst a series of unusual settings in his one-act play The Hotel Nepenthe, and now he finds himself in the company of a sorrowful bunch of whiny Russians in a series of locations in the Serebriakov family estate. The Apollinaire Theatre Company is thinking outside the box in its staging of Anton Chekhov's Uncle Vanya at Chelsea Theatre Works, inviting the audience to move from garden to room, to room ... to room with the actors as the four acts of the tragicomedy unfold.

Kuntz plays the title character, a country gentleman who has spent his life maintaining the estate in order to support his late sister's husband Serebriakov, a renowned professor of art, and his young second wife Elena. The professor's plain, unmarried daughter Sonya (Erin Eva Butcher) resides in the country and works alongside her uncle. Serebriakov (Bill Salem) and Elena (Marissa Rae Roberts) are spending the summer at the estate and turning everyone's lives upside down, including Sonya's Nanny (Ann Carpenter), Vanya's mother Maria (Ann Marie Shea), longtime employee Telegin (Kevin Fennessy) and Workman (Mike Handelman). The country doctor Astrov (Ronald Nelson Lacey) spends an inordinate amount of time with the family, tending to Serebriakov's ills, both real and imagined, as well as hoping to make time with Elena.

The overriding themes of the play are existential angst and unrequited love, but fortunately Chekhov and adapter Craig Lucas have fortified the script with a healthy dose of humor that Kuntz and Lacey in particular are capable of milking. Their characters are both vying for the attention and affection of the bored but beautiful Elena, even as she strives to be the dutiful wife to the insufferable, narcissistic professor. Sonya confides to her stepmother that she pines for the doctor, setting up a reverse Cyrano scenario. While advocating for Sonya, Elena experiences a flicker of desire for Astrov, which she quickly quashes, but Vanya witnesses their indiscretion, plunging him further into despair.

The first act, set in the garden, takes place in the customary theatre space on the third floor with all but half a dozen of the thirty patrons seated in front of the stage. At the conclusion of the act, the House Manager escorts everyone to a smaller room on the second floor where the scene is set for act two with the professor and his wife "dozing" before the fireplace. Folding chairs are arranged on three walls of the study. Acts three and four are set in a large parlor and Vanya's small office, respectively, and the audience is again escorted to these locales and given the opportunity to choose seats in various sections of the rooms. While having the audience follow the action is reminiscent of Sleep No More, the Apollinaire experience is much less strenuous and more orderly under the guidance of the House Manager than was roaming and running around the multiple floors and rooms of the Punchdrunk production.

Owing to the proximity of the seats to the action, the members of the audience become like silent members of the family. There is a certain voyeuristic appeal to be able to closely listen in on the intimate conversations between some characters and the revealing personal monologues of others. Director Danielle Fauteux Jacques and the cast respect the existence of the fourth wall, but we are immersed in the drama, making it feel as if we are all on the same side of it. The director's vision gives this production a special flair that lifts it above the dour nature of the story, ably realized by Nathan Lee's set design, Toni B. Elliott's period costumes, and effective sound design by Emily Ledger and Jacques' lighting.

With the exception of Sonya, none of the major characters are very likable or sympathetic, but the actors offer convincing portrayals, warts and all. Butcher brings out Sonya's sunny optimism even in the face of rejection and total unhappiness. Uncle Vanya constantly laments his wasted life, and Kuntz captures his paralyzing fatigue and self-loathing. His second act soliloquy and explosive rage in the third act are riveting, yet his quiet moments of sorrow are also deeply felt. It takes some time for Roberts to get under Elena's skin, but she eventually peels back a couple of layers to reveal some personality beyond the ennui. Salem is more believable in Serebriakov's scenes as a big baby than those in which he is contrite. The supporting players are given little to do, but uniformly perform well.

Anton Chekhov lived from 1860 to 1904, but the people and circumstances he created for Uncle Vanya are recognizable in this century and in our country. Although Lucas rejuvenates some of the language, little modernization is required for the play to feel accessible to a contemporary audience. It is an intimate character study that features few of the larger issues of class and politics often found in Chekhov's works, but rather delves into the deeper places where men and women face themselves and find a way to go on living. It wears its heart on its sleeve and you don't have to be Russian to understand that.

Uncle Vanya, through January 22, presented by Apollinaire Theatre Company at Chelsea Theatre Works, 189 Winnisimmet Street, Chelsea, MA; Tickets ($30) available at 617-887-2336 or www.apollinairetheatre.com.

Written by Anton Chekhov, Adapted by Craig Lucas, Directed by Danielle Fauteux Jacques; Stage Manager, Erica Paige Brown; Assistant Stage Manager, Mike Handelman; Set Design & Scenic Painting, Nathan Lee; Costume Design, Toni B. Elliott; Sound Design, Emily Ledger; Lighting Design, Danielle Fauteux Jacques

Cast: Ronald Nelson Lacey, Ann Carpenter, John Kuntz, Bill Salem, Kevin Fennessy, Erin Eva Butcher, Marissa Rae Roberts, Ann Marie Shea, Mike Handelman

Photo: Danielle Fauteux Jacques

- Nancy Grossman