By Jennifer Beasley.
Anton Chekhov’s timeless classic is given an Aussie flavour – with surprisingly good results.
The Cherry Orchard is Chekhov’s last play. Written in 1903, this version of the Russian classic runs at two hours and is redolent with the scenescape of the Aussie outback, yet with Cherry trees intact.
Transposing this tale of the wilting aristocracy and staff, all of whom are unable to let go of the past, into an Australian setting, has been done before by the MTC in 2013. This outing is considerably better.
Although I will say that the first act did nothing to make me sit up and take notice. In fact, I nearly fell asleep, and wondered at why the snap and sizzle of Chekhov was not captured by Director Tim Gilmour (Vikings Vs Climate Change), with far too many pauses as the melodramatics of Estate Owner Lubov (Sharmini Kumar), bewailing her husband’s and son’s deaths, crawls on the floor while daughter Anya (Charlie Sampson), adopted daughter Varya (Holly Blake), brother Gaev (Rob Lister) and shouty wealthy businessman risen from poverty Lopakhin (Robinson Flynn) woodenly watch on. The other difficulty I, and everyone I spoke to had, was that this play version couldn’t decide if it was held in Australia or Russia. If you are going to set it in a country, then go all out and change all the references to that place. This inconsistency often brought me out of the scenes.
Without the comfortable interaction between Gaev and his manservant Fiers, both first class performances by Rob Lister and Tibor Deheny respectively, and the subtle, yet rising tension in an outstanding Holly Blake, and musical prowess and sight gags by Eoin Hogan as Epikhodov – he of the 22 calamities- the first act would have deflated like a balloon. Luckily the set by Neil Barnett and Tim Gilmour, interesting costumes by Alison Fletcher and very good lighting by Emma Caitlin Brown– I loved the tonal changes as Lubov takes in the dawn- all do their bit to lift this piece. And one mustn’t dismiss the importance of the modern soundtrack by Jack Bibas and Ruth Gilmour. Rather inspired and tightened up the later act tremendously.
Yet- the intermission appeared, and the free cuppa revived my spirits. I’m so glad they did.
I don’t know what happened to Gilmour (and his wife, Ruth Gilmour as assistant director and production manager) but it was an extraordinary turnaround.
Act two explodes onto the stage.
It’s music, it’s noise, it’s the bedlam of everyday living. And so, so, Chekhov.
The acting scenes and sequences have sharpened. Instead of operating as individual actors the cast is now integrated, with off stage yelled-out conversations and objects thrown in disgust onto the performing space. Lively music, dancing, lights and absurdist actions that mimic real life, highlight the decadent principles these characters hold onto. The carrying joke of Uncle Gaev with billiards and his passion for ridiculous oration is punctuated with good natured exasperation by the daughters. Harrison Auld comes into his own as Yasha, as well as a very funny turn as the Tramp, and beautifully lends his energy to Alyssia Innocent as Dunyasha whenever they interact as he tries to woo her, bringing out the best of both characters.
The eternal student Trofimov, acted with integrity by Dean Mitrousis, sings on the stage. The showdown and irony as Lubov throws a few home truths at this poor forever student is a standout piece, and one where actor Kumar shines.
Candice Mitrousis as Charlotta the governess, steals the scene at the beginning of this act, performing card tricks for this spendthrift family. ‘Name a card’, Charlotta says. ‘Pick one Pischik’, played by a nervy Fraser Baxter intent on borrowing money off everyone. You know you have the audience when the crowd claps as the correct card is pulled each time.
The vibrancy of the scene changes dials down, as this dissolute family realise that their inaction, their inability to not spend recklessly, or have affairs, to not listen to the advice of Lopakhin, or to basically do nothing at all to change their outcomes, plays out dramatically in the final scenes.
Gone is the hysteria of Lubov as the orchard is sold. Gaev steps up, he really is the only one whose character arc is not a tragedy.
Then there is the quiet, simmering anger of Varya. Subtle and acted with the ambiguity that Chekhov is famous for, Blake nails it.
Lastly, we focus on Tibor Deneny, a broken and old Fiers, unable to compromise his beliefs as he lays down on the floor of the locked up and sold house, while the sounds of chainsaws rip into the Cherry Orchard, to make way for the new order.
A wonderful second act saves this play, and with a little tweaking, the innovation of the Frankston Theatre Group will charge into the future, with a superb venue in a great area.
