REVIEW: Uncle Vanya, Harold Pinter Theatre Recording

‘Everything is the same as ever, but worse’

Thought-provoking production of Uncle Vanya is a fitting emblem for 2020

‘I never feel anything anymore. I never look forward to anything’. So speaks the tormented Astrov in the opening scene of Conor McPherson’s powerful adaption of the Chekhov classic.  An overwhelming sense of claustrophobia and ennui dominates this captivating production which encourages parallels between the play and our current restricted existence. The similarities add a degree of irony to the viewing.

Directed by Ian Rickson, the production’s run at the Harold Pinter Theatre was curtailed with the arrival of the Lockdown. Here, it returns in a new interpretation especially shaped for the screen.

Unlike National Theatre or RSC broadcasts, it doesn’t intend to replicate what was seen on stage but instead creates something new. A stunning hybrid where the production’s theatrical origins are never far away. Working in collaboration with film-maker Ross MacGibbon, a skilful balance is struck between sweeping wide-angled frames and close, detailed shots providing a window into the characters’ innermost thoughts. Neat cutaways cleverly add to the subtext. For example, Nana (played with subtle light-hearted stoicism by Anna Calder-Marshall) lights a candle in the background following an exchange about Vanya’s dead sister. At the end of the act, the camera returns to the flame, still burning bright like the memory of Vera.

This new direction immerses the viewer in Rae Smith’s magnificent set. Rather than opting for a realistic interpretation of the Russian country estate, Smith emphasises the theme of entrapment which is central to the text, with trees reaching in through the windows and endless pipework encircling the walls. Not only are Vanya and his family stuck within their own psychological troubles but also within the house that fuels them. Bruno Poet’s lighting compliments the set exquisitely, adding to the neurosis with intense beams glimmering through the stained windows.

Throughout, the toxic atmosphere is punctuated with moments of honest humour. A real moment of lightness occurs in a drinking scene when Dr Astrov (played by Richard Armitage), Telegin, and the title character crawl under the sideboard in search of alcohol while repeating the word ‘Awight’.

Rickson’s direction allow space for the audience to understand how each character has developed and processes their own pain and struggles. But rather than self-indulgent wallowing, a story of individuals shines through. A drama of people, trying to reconcile themselves to missed chances and wrong decisions.

Toby Jones provides a wonderful rendition of the tragi-comedic figure of Vanya. Using cynicism as his method of survival, Jones creates a character who is both endearing and exasperating. Like Vanya, the viewer gets dragged into a world with no clear sense of time, place, or identity. Jones’ scenes with Armitage are particularly successful in this. Astrov only ever really comes alive when talking about nature and the possibilities of the land and Armitage delivers this romantic, deeply damaged, and struggling man with fineness. Peter Wight, as the pock-faced hanger-on Telegin brings nuanced style to the often-overlooked character. He beautifully highlights the shifting emotional arcs of a man resilient, through drink and memories, to constant mocking and disregard.

Acting heavyweight Roger Allam joins the cast for this production replacing Ciaran Hind in the role of Serebryakov. Allam presents the perfect balance between calculated negligence and wilful obliviousness. The retired academic is clearly a man struggling to accept his age and status. Allam makes a wonderful foil for Rosalind Eleazar as Yelena. Her silent anger seethes just below the surface, as she looks for any form of escape.

During her scene with Aimee Lou Wood, Eleazar finally allows her youthful energy and spirit to break free. However, in true Chekhov style, the tragedy arrives as their laughter is cut short thanks to the suffocating environment they find themselves in. Wood’s performance as Serebryakov’s daughter Sonya is also persuasive. The star of Sex Education makes a convincing West End debute perfectly switching between moments of naive innocence and wisdom beyond her years. Her final speech is particularly resonant as she utters the famous phrase ‘we’ll rest’. Only in death will these characters be able to find the freedom they have so longed for in life.

Overall, this production is truly remarkable. Not only for its believable performances, clever staging, and effective translation but as a reminder of the power of theatre. The opening shots of the cast arriving in their facemasks, rows of empty seats, and jokes left hanging without audience laughter are all poignant reminders of the pandemic’s tragic impact on the arts. Rickson’s interpretation proves how classic texts continue to be effective, impactful, and important in the 21^st century.

Uncle Vanya is available to watch through BBC iPlayer via https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/m000qplz/uncle-vanya