Moscow, Moscow, Moscow, Moscow, Moscow, Moscow

B-

Poor Chekhov! Playwrights just can’t seem to resist putting their own stamp on his plays. Last month we got an encore run of Life Sucks., Aaron Posner’s quirky riff on Uncle Vanya. Now MCC Theater is presenting the New York premiere of Halley Feiffer’s (The Pain of My Belligerence, I’m Gonna Pray for You So Hard) deconstruction of Three Sisters, which played at Wiiliamstown Theatre Festival two summers ago. Of the two adaptations, Feiffer’s is by far the more entertaining and is probably the truer to Chekhov. Feiffer gives us the original characters in exaggerated versions who leave no thought unsaid. The dialogue is anachronistic, coarse and often very funny. Feiffer daringly makes each sister so unsympathetic in her opening monologue that it is not easy to win our sympathy; she mostly succeeds at meeting this challenge. This production dials up the volume with provocative casting involving bending gender, changing race and introducing dwarfism. Somehow it works, probably because the actors are so convincing in their roles. Rebecca Henderson’s (The Wayside Motor Inn) Olga raises self-deprecation to an art form. Chris Perfetti (The Low Road) is so persuasive as Masha that it seems completely unremarkable for the role to be played by a man. Tavi Gevinson (This Is Our Youth, Days of Rage) captures both Irina’s allure and her aimlessness. As their feckless brother Andrey, Greg Hildreth (The Robber Bridegroom) is appropriately conflicted. Sas Goldberg (Significant Other) smoothly accomplishes the transformation of Natasha from target of scorn to tyrant. Steven Boyer (Hand to God, Time and the Conways) is tender and pathetic as Irina’s suitor Tuzenbach. Casting Solyony with a dwarf, the excellent Matthew Jeffers (Light Shining in Buckinghamshire), makes the universal scorn he receives even more uncomfortable. Alfredo Narciso (Time and the Conways) makes Vershinin both sexy and pitiful. As Masha’s husband Kulygin, Ryan Spahn (Gloria) is appropriately irritating. Ray Anthony Thomas (Jitney) brings pathos to the role of Dr. Chebutykin. Ako (God Said This) makes a strong impression as the family’s ancient servant Anfisa. As minor civil servant Ferapont, Gene Jones (The Trip to Bountiful) is aptly bumbling. The humor of the first act is less in evidence after intermission. By the end, we are more saddened than amused. Director Trip Cullman (Choir Boy, Lobby Hero), Feiffer’s frequent collaborator, shows great affinity for her sensibility. The production shows off MCC’s black box theater to great advantage. With the audience sitting on facing sides of the raised stage platform, no one is more than four rows from the actors. The key visual element of Mark Wendland’s (The Pain of My Belligerence) scenic design is a large illuminated “Moscow” sign over a diorama of the city at one end of the auditorium. Paloma Young’s (Peter and the Starcatcher) costumes mix period gowns with modern tee shirts and hoodies. I was frequently entertained along the way, but when it was over I had to ask myself what the point was. I don’t see what contribution Feiffer has made to the appreciation of Chekhov. I would like to declare a hundred-year moratorium on adapting or deconstructing his works. Running time: 2 hours including intermission. NOTE: I strongly urge you to brush up on Three Sisters before attending.

The Cherry Orchard ** C-

Many consider “The Cherry Orchard” to be Chekhov’s masterpiece. I do not share that opinion. To me, it falls short in many respects. It revisits many themes that Chekhov addressed more artfully in his earlier plays, particularly in “Uncle Vanya.” It has too many characters to develop more than sketchily. Furthermore, most of these characters are insufficiently compelling to merit our attention. The plot has an element that I have never understood: it defies reason that Ranevskaya (Diane Lane) would hold a party on the very day that her estate is to be auctioned. However, the verdict of history is that the play is a major classic, so it was intriguing to see what a promising American playwright, Stephen Karam, would do with it in his “new version” for Roundabout Theatre.

The verdict is mixed. The translation is quite idiomatic, but the central concept of the production did not work for me. Karam tries to draw analogies between the effects of serfdom in Russia and the legacy of slavery in America. Instead of nontradtional (P.C. for colorbiind) casting, we have color-coded casting. Three characters who represent Russia’s future — nouveau riche landowner Lopakhin (Harold Perrineau), proletarian student Trofimov (Kyle Beltran) and the lucky neighbor Simeon-Pischik (Chuck Cooper) — and one who escapes it — manservant Yasha (Maurice Jones) — are all played by black actors. All the others, who are more or less victims of social change, are played by white actors — Ranevskaya, her daughterr Anya (Tavi Gevison), her stepdaughter Vanya (Celia Keenan-Bolger), her brother Gaev (John Glover), governess Charlotta Ivanovna (Tina Benko), clerk Yepikhodov (Quinn Mattfield), maid Dunyasha (Susannah Flood) and servant Firs (Joel Grey). It’s an interesting idea, but I did not think it was a valid analogy. For one thing, serfdom was not based on race. I'm not sure why the tramp who interrupts the picnic scene suddenly begins reciting Emma Lazarus's "The New Colossus."

Most of the actors were creditable, but not memorable; however, they did not seem to be working as an ensemble. The party scene, lively to a fault, seemed to belong to a different play. The incidental music by Nico Muhly did not suggest Russia. A brief melody after the party scene incongruously recalled the “mazel tov” song heard at Jewish celebrations. Scott Pask’s set design was low-key, although I did like the Calderesque mobiles that represented the cherry trees. There’s an area rug in act one that two actors tripped on. Some of Michael Krass's costuming choices were puzzling, especially a particularly garish outfit for Lopakhin. Director Simon Godwin, an import from London, did not seem to have a sure grip on the material. It isn’t a terrible production, just a misguided one. Running time: two hours 20 minutes including intermission.

The Cherry Orchard **

(Click on the title to read the full review.)

Writing this review is rather pointless since this CSC production directed by Andrei Belgrader closes tomorrow. Nevertheless, I'll weigh in if only to assure those who couldn't score tickets that they did not miss the revelatory experience suggested by some of the reviews. The production is wildly uneven, with superb moments alternating with others that are downright crude and/or pointless. (Does audience participation really have a role in a Chekhov play?) Chekhov did regard the play as a comedy, but I doubt he was thinking of slapstick. Throwing in a scene of attempted fellatio is sheer sensationalism. In abridging the text to get the evening down to 2 1/2 hours with intermission, the roles of some minor characters have been so truncated that what remains doesn't make much sense. There is some fine acting, especially by Daniel Davis, Alvin Epstein and Juliet Rylance. John Turturro has a wonderful drunk scene, but is a bit too overbearing elsewhere. Dianne Wiest, to my surprise, just isn't that interesting here; I thought she was much better in CSC's Seagull a few years back. The evening moves in fits and starts. I have never thought the play has the emotional power of Uncle Vanya or The Seagull, but it can have more impact than in this abridged version.

Through a Glass Darkly **

Jenny Worton's adaptation of Ingmar Bergman's shattering 1961 film is now at New York Theatre Workshop in an Atlantic Theater Company production starring the young British actress Carey Mulligan. Her riveting performance as Karin, an incurable schizophrenic who is trying to hold her family and herself together during a summer vacation on a remote island, is perhaps reason enough to see it. However, the very idea of turning Bergman's film into a play seems to me misguided. Without the stunning cinematography and its tight closeups, much is lost. I was also struck by strong resemblances to The Seagull. Both have mostly absent parents more interested in their artistic career than in their children, both have sons who have written a play that is treated dismissively by those parents and, in a stroke that could not be coincidental, both have Mulligan's character standing on a makeshift stage declaiming the son's play. Chekhov did it better. Ben Rosenfield is strong as Karin's younger brother with whom she is far too affectionate. Jason Butler Harner is earnest but a bit bland as Karin's long-suffering husband. Chris Sarandon seemed more distant than required as Karin's father. Karin's breakdown is extremely painful to sit through. There was palpable restlessness in the audience. Takeshi Kata's washed-out gray set reflects the play's bleakness, but doesn't capture the isolation of a remote island. David Levaux's direction seemed to lose clarity at times. Showing us Carey Mulligan's lovely breasts not once but twice was too much titillation. Running time: 90 minutes