In
the Court Theatre's
production of "Uncle Vanya" at the Museum of Contemporary Art, one enters a world
in which characters scurry on and off skittishly, appear and scatter as quickly
as cockroaches surprised by a sudden overhead light in the middle of the night.
Initial images and movements on the stark framework of the set (metal tubing,
freestanding wooden staircases and cantilevered walkways and playing spaces)
evoke modernist playwrights like Harold Pinter, rather than Chekhov's
languorous language and the dangerous emotional wars of the bored well to do in
pre-Revolutionary rural Russia. Ah, the physical and emotional balance of this
production never quite settles. In the end, there are some lovely performances
in this always challenging play, within a modernist trapeze of a set that is
lit with imagination and classically modernist (yet not original) verve, that
never completely hangs together as a whole.
The
set by first time set designer, full time architect Leigh Breslau is all edges and angles. The
lighting by John Culbert inspires memories of Svoboda and streamlined Noel Coward interiors.
And on top of this we have imposed, as my theatre companion said, "Richard
Scarry Theatre" (author of "Busy Busy" books for toddlers), with
a busy busy stage. The core challenge here is that this is not a play of action
but is instead one of inaction. The textual silences need to be animated rather
than the imagined bursts of energy represented here. I find this production
visually arresting and actually quite to my aesthetic tastes, but the
integration with text and authorial intent is not achieved. One lays on top of
the other, and the words of Chekhov are nearly squashed as a result.
The
overbearing conceit of the lovely and yet not fully incorporated physical and
illuminated set defines this production. A few powerful images do last in
memory. One of the lolling Vanya (Kevin Gudahl) on a suspended walkway, after
the initial scurrying settles at the beginning of the play, one leg hanging
over the surface's edge. As an audience member, we enjoy a delicious discovery
of this body, then uncertainly for several minutes after action begins whether
or not this is a dead or napping character looming above the action. In another
scene toward the end of the play, on the raised stage space that cuts a
diagonal swatch from upstage left to downstage center, we have the "call
them all together" pronouncement scene in which the professor enunciates
his plan for family solvency. The entire family and group of servants are
arrayed in this diagonal line, seated, as individual characters, not
interacting with one another but facing straight ahead. And the professor, who
has complained of gout and other ailments throughout the play's action, is the
only character upright, pacing. This is an arresting image of movement that
works within the aesthetic established by the designers.
The
object of Vanya's affections Yelena (Chaon Cross) is gorgeous but has only two
speeds - flirting or angry and sullen. Yelena needs more shades to animate the
joy she has in discovering a bond with her stepdaughter Sonya (the delightful Elizabeth
Ledo) or the
compromised resolution she feels when returning to her professor husband
Serebriakov (James Harms) after pulling back from the brink of a dalliance with the doctor
Astrov (Timothy Edward Kane). When Vanya says to Yelena that she embodies inertia,
we don't believe it. There has been too much skittering about. She is not still
enough. Genuine emotion and/or stage presence is provided by several performers
including Elizabeth Ledo, Timothy Edward Kane, and Penny Slusher. The other
characters lack the gravitas that will allow for pathos. Or perhaps they are
all struggling with finding a consistent tone or balance.
The
choice to do three soliloquies (by Vanya, Sonya, and Yelena) as stand up comedy
routines complete with hand held microphones is another example of challenging
directorial choices. These moments bring a change of pace from the downcast
delivery that characterizes most of the rest of the dialogue, and some genuine
laughs but, again, for this observer these moments are not quite integrated
with the whole. Its not that the viewer needs a literal map to meaning tying
words to metaphor, but the meaning to this viewer is entirely opaque, and
sometimes misleading.
There
are lovely moments that work, when the messy encumbrance of the
conceptualization falls away and we were left with the words, in conversation.
For example, Vanya to his niece Sonya at one point notes "When you don't
have a real life, you make do with dreams. It's better than nothing." In
moments like these, we as an audience are allowed sparks of genuine emotion
that find full flower when the performers can be still and resonate quietly.