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Regional Reviews: St. Louis Uncle Vanya: Valiantly Accepting Next Year's Agony Also see Richard's reviews of Hot for T-Rex, The Buzzer, Snow White and In the Heights
In Rebel and Misfits' Uncle Vanya: Valiantly Accepting Next Year's Agony, staged in a barely furnished house (currently on the market for 1.6 million dollars), we follow the actors inside, from a cozy outdoor patio, and from room to room (though there's plenty of seating). And here we are immersed in a Vanya that features a powerful cast that isn't shy about connecting with the audience. But far from being another dark and brooding visit to the Russian countryside, this Vanya is often funny, and sexy too, thanks to director Kelly Hummert (who last year directed a Hamlet where Ophelia's heartbreak became a major centerpiece of the show). Now, Vanya's usual hopeless protestations of love have suddenly become intense, and cheek-to-cheek with the object of his affection. You may have forgotten exactly how many of those steamy potentialities there are, just lying there, right out in the open in Chekhov's famed "scenes from country life." And maybe we've just looked the other way, taking it all too coldly, and too seriously till now. That said, textually, it's not just the story of hopeless perseverance in love and labor. It also seems (120 years after its initial publication) like a commentary on what we'd call "the one percent" and how they dominate the lives of everyone in their orbits. But, thanks to the great comic instincts of Andrew Neiman as Vanya, this is also a show with a lively flair for the ridiculous. Vanya is still a sad clown, but a more ironically self-aware sad clown here, which is something we (as Americans) may be better prepared to latch on to. There's still bitter heartbreak, thanks to Francesca Ferrari as Sonya. Her "1,000 mile stare" over her fate as a rich man's daughter, exiled to the remote countryside while he squires about with a much younger second wife, is stunning to behold. And Sonya's love for the region's lone physician, Dr. Astrov, adds an entirely different layer of anguish, as Astrov (played by Jim Butz) only has eyes for her estranged father's stunning bride Yelena (diffident, gliding, Sophia Brown). Now and then Astrov will literally be caught between the two women: Sonya, who is desperate to show her love; and Yelena, who seems perpetually put-off by the spellbinding effect she has on every man she meets. As her older husband, Professor Serebryakov, Peter Mayer plays a furtive, yet dictatorial character—he seems always to be hurrying toward (or away from) an invisible portraitist, bent on capturing his true self. Mr. Butz's performance as Astrov shouldn't be surprising, but it is: he's a smoldering, tormented Russian hero, desperate to re-forest the dwindling countryside. And, watching him, it's easy to feel swept up in a quintessentially Russian idiom, where he scoffs at the pre-programmed philosophies of others in one moment—only to be confronted by his own shallowness in the next. There were plenty of small ad-libbed asides on opening night, lending to the spontaneous feel of it all. And a crucial prop malfunctioned late in the game (if you know the show, you can easily guess which), but a quick verbal cover by Mr. Neiman patched up the scene. Likewise, Mr. Butz endured repeated confrontations with a 21st century refrigerator that wouldn't stop beeping that night, in act one. And yet, he seemed unruffled in finding his place again, after vanquishing the stainless steel monster at last. In the end, highly experienced actors with strong minds and quick wits will always manage to build a strong, imaginary world, even in a kitchen full of modern (in)conveniences—especially if they have a remarkably strong script to begin with. Vanya and Sonya still face cruel ruination, and then disappear into the poetry of their own routine. But the beautifully accentuated and even comical desperation of their lives till then seems far more human here, which is probably the most Chekhovian thing you can say about it. The play began its life as The Wood Demon in 1889, but was poorly received, before Chekhov reworked it into its best-known form. Uncle Vanya was published in 1897, and directed on stage by Stanislavsky in 1899. Flash-forward to the 1970s, when a New York revival of that first 1889 version featured an unknown young actress, Meryl Streep, as a maid, though hers was one of the many roles excised in the transformation to the far more successful version we generally know today. You can read about that 1970s production of The Wood Demon in Walter Kerr's lively "Journey To The Center Of The Theater" from 1979. Uncle Vanya: Valiantly Accepting Next Year's Agony continues through September 3, 2017, at 110 Dielman Rd. (just north of Ladue Rd.). But bring your tiniest car: parking is tight, and though the valets are quite professional, you exit through a "needle's eye" of a gate afterward. For more information visit www.theimmersivetheatreproject.com. Cast: Crew: |
