Displaying items by tag: Uncle Vanya

Anton Chekhov, a Russian playwright who was also a doctor, can claim a level of regard few writers achieve and maintain so long after their deaths.  Born in 1860, the same year the Republican Party nominated Abraham Lincoln for President, his plays are routinely produced on stages in America and around the world because of what they reveal about who we are.  That’s especially true for Chekhov’s Uncle Vanya, written in 1899, just a few years before the playwright died. Its popularity may be due to its mystery.  Is it about resilience or is it about failure?  Is it a comedy or a tragedy?  It’s the kind of work that leaves you with questions about not only its two main characters, Sonya and her Uncle Vanya, but also about us. 

A part of the city’s theater community since 2011, Astonrep Productions is a small Chicago company intent on “creating compelling and intimate experiences that challenge audiences”.  Their interpretation of Uncle Vanya that opened over the weekend at The Edge Off Broadway succeeds in doing so with some reservations. 

It’s the first American company to mount this commissioned 2024 Canadian adaptation of Chekhov’s classic.  Liisa Repo-Martell’s revamp of the play dutifully adheres to the structure, plot themes and character composition of the original.  But the play’s softer aspects, the features that define its essence and purpose, are less reliable and sure. 

Displeasure with self is one of first things we get a sense of when the play opens. But even before that awareness sets in, there’s a curiosity the audience notices while they’re selecting their seats before the play begins.  A man is slouched in an upholstered chair with one leg over its arm.  He’s at the back of the stage and asleep.  (We later learn he’s passed out drunk.)  Soon after and closer to us, a man and woman are talking.  They’re in the sprawling home of a rural Russian estate well over 100 years ago.  He’s Mikhail Astrov (Robert Tobin), the local doctor and she’s Marina, a housekeeper very ably played by Liz Cloud, who clearly possesses a warm motherly instinct and a sharp wit.   Astrov’s lamenting his fate as a country doctor.  It’s all tedium.  The people are gossip thirsty “savages”.  His life has no fulfillment.  He’s not married.  He’s not in love with anybody and his youth is behind him.  The demands of his work, a sour outlook and his liberties with vodka are catching up with him by slowly dismantling his good looks.

L-R: Robert Tobin, Natalie Hurdle. Photo by Paul Goyette.

By calling him a moron, the doctor’s antipathy for the sleeping man is made clear even before he wakes up.

As more people enter the story, we find ourselves in the middle of a family crisis.  Vanya, the man who was sleeping in the chair, and his niece Sonya (Natalie Hurdle) have been the caretakers of the estate since her mother died.  Sonya’s father, Alexandre (Geoff Isaac), is a professor in the city who’s been forced out of his university position and has now returned to the homestead.  He’d been relying on income from the estate to support his lifestyle in town.  He’s not returned alone.  Joining him is his much younger and very beautiful second wife, Yelena, with Andi Muriel in the role. Things are tense.  Alexandre’s pompous and obliviously demanding.  And Vanya, played with visceral intensity by Rian Jairell, is demonstrably resentful. 

An appeasing conflict avoider, Sonya’s loyalties are split between the natural draw a child has to her father and her uncle who’s labored with her to keep the estate viable at tremendous personal sacrifice to them both.  Now a young woman, she seems to know it’s Vanya who’s been more the nurturing father presence for her and that other than each other, the estate is all that either of them have.   

Additional strain is added with the presence of Yelena.  Her beauty is like an intoxicant for both Vanya and the dissatisfied doctor, Astrov.  They’re both brazen in their desire for her.  Watching them shamelessly try to seduce her is equal parts comic and piteous.

With so much instability, friction and doubt in the air, you’d expect to feel the charge of that energy engulfing the air.  Directed by Derek Bertelsen, it doesn’t arrive with any real intensity until the second act when Sonya’s father floats the idea of selling the estate. And that’s despite the considerable investments Jairell as Vanya had been contributing up to that point.  Because It’s so transparent Alexandre wants the money from the sale to fund his return to the city and his refined form of living, Vanya’s resentment turns to rage.  Finally filling the production with heat.

It dials up too when Sonya confesses her attraction, indeed love, for Astrov to Yelena.  Unrequited never looked so vulnerable and fragile.  

Part of Repo-Martell’s adaptation included revising the language to be more contemporary and ostensibly more approachable.  It works in an essential way.  Both Jeremiah Barr’s handsome set and Natalie Shoch’s costume designs are ambiguous enough to blur any specific time reference.  But in the back of your mind you know this is all happening in a very distant time and place.  One where duty and tradition held much more sway.  That difference can often be found in the words used to express and explain obligations and choices.  Here there’s a nagging sense that you may be missing important steppingstones.

In the end, things aren’t much different from where we found them in the beginning.  Except everyone is much more depleted.  Drained.  But still tasked with shouldering their disappointments and continuing with their lives.  In Chekhov’s original script, the word “rest” is used to represent that place of willful resignation that amounts to acceptance of one’s inevitable destiny.  In this adaptation, the word “peace” is substituted.  They say the same thing about something we’ve all experienced. When we’ve had to pull ourselves up out of the ashes and push forward.  Uncle Vanya brings that feeling front and center and offers understanding through catharsis.  That alone will keep it in heavy production for a few more centuries at least.

Uncle Vanya

Through July 5, 2026

Astonrep Productions

Venue:  The Edge Off Broadway

1133 W. Catalpa Avenue

Chicago, IL  60640

For more information or tickets:  https://www.astonrep.com

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com. 

In 2010, Goodman Theatre Artistic Director adapted "The Seagull" by Chekhov. An all-star cast, a stellar script and unique staging made for a memorable production. For this season, Robert Falls returns Chekhov to the Goodman with a new adaptation of "Uncle Vanya" by Annie Baker. This production of "Uncle Vanya" could be seen as a companion piece to 2010's "The Seagull." There's a stylistic similarity and another all-star cast breathing new life into this classic work. 

Like any Chekhov play, "Uncle Vanya" is about the everyday boredom and sadness of bourgeois Russians living on a country estate. Vanya (Tim Hopper) and niece Sonya (Caroline Neff) have toiled away their youths keeping the estate afloat and subsidizing the academic career of Sonya's aging father Alexander (David Darlow). When Alexander and his much younger wife Yelena (Kristen Bush) decide to move in with Vanya, their simple lives reach confrontation. 

Chekhov has a knack for dynamic female characters. "Uncle Vanya" is no exception. Caroline Neff's performance as Sonya sneakily becomes the focal point. Neff infuses Baker's already modern dialogue with an almost tangible sense of emotion.  Playing off her in the role of Yelena is Kristin Bush. This character is complicated and cold but Bush deftly shifts between moods without ever losing her audience. 

Adapter Annie Baker won the Pulitzer in 2014 for her play "The Flick." Her interpretation of "Uncle Vanya" was based on a literal word-for-word translation as she wanted her version to sound as fresh to a modern American audience as the original Russian had in 1900. To that end, Baker is successful. The script is quiet, but the dialogue seamlessly flows into our century. There's a timelessness to the entire production. Certain conventions, costumes and set pieces span generations, yet are of no specific historic era.  This stylistic choice only reinforces the ever-relevant themes of Chekhov's complex works. 

"Uncle Vanya" can neither be described as a comedy or a drama. There are moments of lightness and even dark humor, but overall the play is not particularly funny. On the other hand, while there's a well of unhappiness just beneath the surface, nothing truly cataclysmic happens. In the end, Chekhov makes his nihilistic point that perhaps none of us are happy and that death is the only respite we'll know. 

Through March 19th at Goodman Theatre. 170 N Dearborn St. 312-443-3800