Who knew Chekov was funny?!
I write this in the third day of my neighbor’s 60’s-70’s hits marathon. I have heard my share of BeeGee’s, Gloria Gaynor, and luckily The Four Tops. Not the soundtrack I would pick for writing up a Chekov show, but perhaps some revelations will come out of this…(as Wild Cherry comes on…)
I had the pleasure of seeing the highly acclaimed CalShakes’ Uncle Vanya. I had read the play while in school, and remember reading it with the doom and gloom I associated with Chekov, thanks to Stanislavski. I didn’t know I was supposed to laugh at the jokes- this performance taught me how to read and enjoy Chekov.
It is not to say that all Chekov is an episode of Friends. Even Uncle Vanya has a tragic end, but it had so many levels that when you arrived at the sad ending for the family in the country, it was poetic.
Uncle Vanya is about a family that has been turned upside down by the presence of the Professor and his stunning wife, throwing the men in a frenzy over the wife, and the family in a frenzy with constant worry for the Professor’s comfort. Vanya is fed up with his unrequited feelings for the beauty, and the Professor’s demands, that he can’t take it anymore, and attempts to kill the Professor. The play ends as the Professor and his wife leave, and the family gets back to their life before ‘the occupation’, and they find they are very, very unhappy.
It was my first show at CalShakes. Their lovely outdoor theater, with the rolling hills as the back drop was already charming, but for this show, they released cows to graze on the hills. It was funny, and helped put us in the environment of Russian country-side. And the set was a clever, ever-changing, labrynth house, perfectly suiting each scene. Even the costumes were done in perfect taste.
And the acting was superb. The title character was played with such humanity, even when he is attempting to kill the professor, you are still sympathetic towards him. And poor Sonya, played so innocently, yet strong, I’m sure every woman, if not every person in the audience, felt they had been Sonya at some point in their life. Even the sad schmuck who never gets paid attention to was played so child-like, desperately seeking approval and acceptance, you just wanted to rush the stage and hug him.
The only strange acting or directing choice was that of the country Doctor, Astroff. Everyone else had a straight American accent, and the doctor had an English accent. It was not very distracting, and it added to his charm, but in the end, it was the one choice I did not follow completely.
The adaptation by Emily Mann was beautiful and funny, and I look forward to reading her other adaptations of Chekov works, as well as hoping to see more of Chekov plays being performed with his original intentions in mind: to laugh, to cry, to get angry. To have the audience inspect themselves as they left the theater, finding similarities with characters, and discovering what that means.
I also look forward to see CalShakes’ next show, Twelfth Night…disco style.
In the immortal works of Kool and the Gang- “get down on it!”