REVIEW: Uncle Vanya (Shakespeare Theatre Company)

It’s the time of year where things get lively downtown; “We Outside” season is imminent. Cherry blossoms attract throngs of tourists, the merciful end of another terrible Wizards season, and local theatres kick into full gear for the final stretch just as the sun resurfaces. This time in 2024, we were all gearing up for STC’s gritty Scottish Play — can you believe that opened a YEAR ago???? This go-around, Artistic Director Simon Godwin brings another household British actor to town, though one with a generally friendlier onscreen demeanor: Paddington Bear’s dad himself, Hugh Bonneville. And consequently, instead of a dreary war drama, we get the oafy dramedy of Anton Chekov’s Uncle Vanya, a co-production with California’s Berkeley Rep. (As a warning, I’ve only ever seen Chekov’s works via “interpretations” such as GALA’s Palacios Sisters, never a direct production, so Conor McPherson’s adaptation is my first experience with him.)

Book

Something I often see with Chekov is, “you either like him or you don’t.” And while I liked Las Hermanas Palacios, it was imbued with enough creativity to distinguish it from a realist take on the Russian writer’s catalog. Unfortunately for me, the Vanya production here did nothing of the sort — the book’s embrace of the conflict of rural and city life is represented with dull prose and uninspiring characters. In rural Russia, around 1900 as we’re loudly informed at the top of Act I, a wealthy professor has returned to his investment estate in the country; a new, young, and very attractive wife (Yelena) in tow. The resident family members who maintain the estate, including Vanya, aren’t too thrilled — the previous wife was Vanya’s late sister, and the professor has clear apathy about their laborious existence. This doesn’t phase several of them, though, from becoming smitten with Yelena, including the town doctor, Astrov. Things become even more complicated when the professor announces plans to sell the estate to better his own position in society. I never found the love polygons to pay off — and even when the secondary conflict over the estate erupts late in the show, any sort of confrontation gets contained rather quickly. In a show written on the precipice of Russia’s own class revolution less than 20 years after publishing, it surprises me that a social critic of Chekov’s stature seems to take a reserved position as the creator of these characters that very obviously represent class struggle. It’s a cynically boring approach that fails to make clear to me its imposition, but perhaps it’s an acquired taste. 2/10

Acting

Despite the rawness of the story, its characters can easily be melded by the right performers. Bonneville is expectedly a dastardly delight in the title role, a drunkard estate caretaker who has devolved into debauchery with this life of rural existence. Additionally enjoyable are Melanie Field as the cowering Sonya and John Benjamin Hickey’s self-important Astrov. Craig Wallace is limited in his supporting turn as Ilya “Waffles” Telegin, but boy is he a great as ever when he’s around. His jubilant spirit lifts up every production and this is no exception. 8/10

Production

Godwin’s direction is frustrating and abrasive in several ways. To start, the action abruptly transitions from a hodgepodge of busy bodies doing unclear tasks to a stark narration of what we are doing here, all while keeping the house lights on for an uncomfortable amount of time. It often feels as like the production so badly wants us to be a part of this world, and we won’t budge, so it drags us kicking and screaming; seldom does it feel like a coherent directorial vision. This isn’t helped by the overripe set design, in which elements hardly ever distinguish themselves from a beige-brown weariness; a tragic misuse of the 3/4 thrust staging. Ironically enough, once the lights are down, some of these technical elements do partially come to life, such as the occaisionally vibrant duality of Jen Schriever’s lighting design (especially with the musical interstitles) and rustic modesty of Susan Hilferty and Heather Freedman’s costumes. 2/10

Viz

It doesn’t seem like there would be much to have to explain to the audience to prep them for Vanya. A Russian estate, around the turn of the century. And yet, the direction over-explains this to the point of sheer befuddlement. This is both via the inexplicable mysticism of the forest behind Bonneville as he casually leans on some boxes in front of a grandfather clock in the program (he is in the show, look!), as well as the mess of people onstage doing…something…at any given point before the action even starts. The concept of placing actors on stage before curtain to create “busyness” is not new whatsoever, but its purpose is much clearer in most cases. Here, actors and stagehands seemingly mingle, interact with audience members, and literally build the stage while people fill the seats, and instead of creating a world of intrigue, it mostly obscures it from view. It all comes with the aforementioned kicking and screaming motifs, somehow not explaining its purpose or goals. 1/10

Verdict

STC’s Vanya is a herculean effort to make this Chekov work, well, work — but it fails to establish itself as an inspiring take on the imperial philosophies, and only stops short of hitting rock bottom thanks to its well-rounded performances. 13/40