Uncle Vanya by Anton Chekhov

I have to admit that I am notoriously bad at remembering the plots of many stories I have been told, either through plays I have seen or books I have read. This means I can look like a complete idiot when asked to give a synopsis of a play and not be able to remember what actually happens. It also means I can go to a play I know is good and enjoy as if for the first time all those things I forgot about it. This happened with KDC’s production of Uncle Vanya.

The Union Theatre is an excellent space, and it was good to go to a KDC play in a new venue. The set was sparse, as was the lighting design, but both were effective and didn’t intrude on the action. These elements combined to gently cement the feeling of failure and monotony the play presents, and enabled the director’s vision and the actors’ skill to be laid bare before us.

I am glad I saw the show and truly enjoyed it, but I was glad I had forgotten what it was about because it is depressing. My overriding feeling afterwards was one of awe that this play could be so relevant today. Vanya is a warning to us all to seize the day, and Sonya’s undying hope for the future-so heart-breakingly scripted in the final act-is humbling. Chekhov’s writing is brilliant and every character’s journey is utterly convincing. Lucky actors. Or, lucky actors if they are any good and the director knows his/her stuff (because the virtuosity of Chekhov’s writing leaves me paralysed with fear). Fortunately for KDC this was the case and I felt that the whole cast displayed a refreshingly simple coherence enabling none of the play’s messages to be blocked or distorted.

It was wonderful to see a KDC play cast with actors of about the right age for the parts. Anne Greenslade and Diana Hickman were perfect in their roles and Diana communicated Marina’s resignation to life superbly. The trio of men in the smaller roles; Ian Patrick, James Campbell and Pete Picton, were each able to shine. James’ portrayal of Alexander’s tedious and self-centred infirmity was suitably annoying and petty, and Pete showed Telegin’s acceptance of the situation with his wife to be exactly what it was-ludicrous and yet understandable. I also have to mention Pete’s ability to sleep on stage (in character of course), which was fabulous. This, with the simple guitar playing, created an understated character of much theatrical weight.

The four leads didn’t fold under the pressure of their characters. Alexander Gordon-Wood presented a perfectly pompous Vanya, full of charm, sadness and humour. His performance was impressive, but at times I felt the mischievous twinkle in Alexander’s eye meant the more serious moments for his character did not pack quite enough punch. I was impressed with Mark Booth’s interpretation of Mikhail as he succeeded in creating a person wholly separate from anyone and separated from his feelings. Mark’s Mikhail had retreated so far into his head he no longer knew where his heart was to be found, and this was chilling to watch. Elizabeth Elstrub’s Yelena was utterly enigmatic. It took me a while to warm to her-or was it the character?-and when I did it was due to the realisation that this woman is possibly the most genuinely dissatisfied person on stage. At times her frustration was choking. Elizabeth brought real grace and mystique to the role, and the scene where Mikhail approaches her crackled with the pain of the inevitable parting. Whilst no cast member rose above the others, Lisa Castle’s Sonya was beguiling. She brought out all the fresh innocence and hope in the character without becoming saccharine. I was particularly impressed with her handling of the last few scenes, and liked how her skill (and the costume design and makeup) had made this pretty actor plain like Sonya should be.

As I have now seen Uncle Vanya twice I think I will remember what happens. And this memory won’t put me off seeing it again because I know it will remind me how not to let complacency and cowardice and ego get in the way of realising your dreams. Liza Adebisi’s vision enabled Chekhov’s simple message to be told: hold on to your hope and fight for a better future.