By Jeremy Gerard - 2012-07-22T23:00:00Z
Cate Blanchett and her Sydney Theatre Companyâs propulsive staging of Anton Chekhovâs âUncle Vanyaâ hadnât planned a New York stop on its world tour when I reviewed it last August in Washington.
But Lincoln Center Festival chief Nigel Redden smartly booked it into City Center. Now New Yorkers have a chance to see this febrile starâs Yelena, a lethally bored young wife.
Living with her boorish, aging husband on a rural Russian estate, Yelena emanates a chilly hauteur that doesnât prevent a horde of men from falling hopelessly in love with her.
None harder than the sad-sack Vanya, who has managed the estate for a quarter-century, supporting Yelenaâs husband, Serebryakov, previously married to Vanyaâs sainted sister.
Vanya describes Yelena as a goddess, beautiful and untouchable. Blanchett in slinky gowns -- cream in the first act, scarlet in the second -- fits the bill.
Bringing her an armful of fresh-picked roses, Vanya stumbles humiliatingly on Yelena in an illicit clinch with Astrov, the local doctor, a vegetarian proto-tree-hugger so smitten heâs all but moved in for the summer.
When Astrov tries to interest her in his mission to save the countryside from overdevelopment, Yelena can barely conceal the yawns.
The fleet adaptation is by Blanchettâs husband and co- company head, Andrew Upton. Tamas Ascherâs free-wheeling staging of the play, moves Chekhovâs end-of-the-last-century Russia to the Soviet era. Ascher introduces scenes with what sound like the scores from 1940s cartoons and opera recordings.
This Hungarian director takes Chekhov at his word when he called his moody melodramas of unrequited love and mournful lives comedies. Thereâs some slapstick silliness, and the star proves herself adept at physical comedy.
That split-personality sensibility is also captured in Zsolt Khellâs weathered-pine tomb of a set, making these people look ever so small. (Their voices occasionally get lost in City Centerâs echo-chamber auditorium.)
Yelena and Serebryakov (John Bell, a vision of practiced rectitude) have been summering at the estate. Itâs home to Vanya and his niece, Sonya, Serebryakovâs daughter. Richard Roxburgh plays Vanya in a raffish, libidinous performance of bottled rage that turns deeply moving when he finally explodes.
Plain-jane Sonya (Hayley McElhinney, in a nuanced, restrained performance) is unknowingly competing with her step- mother for the attention of the Astrov (rakishly sensitive Hugo Weaving).
Sony doesnât stand a chance against Yelena, whose frustration has made her wily, any more than Vanya can compete with the comparatively suave doctor.
And so this âcomedyâ ends in a way that predicts Samuel Beckett, with deep-rooted characters in existential paralysis. Taking his leave with Yelena, the clueless, bombastic Serebryakov tells Vanya, Sonya and everyone else on the blighted estate, âYou must do something. Do something!â Some joke.
Through Saturday at City Center, 131 W. 55th St. Information: +212-581-1212; http://nycitycenter.org. Rating: ****
What the Stars Mean: **** Superb *** Very Good ** Good * So-So (No stars) Avoid
(Jeremy Gerard is the chief U.S. drama critic for Muse, the arts and leisure section of Bloomberg News. The opinions expressed are his own.)
Muse highlights include John Mariani on wine and Manuela Hoelterhoff on the arts.
To contact the writer of this column: Jeremy Gerard in New York at jgerard2@bloomberg.net.
To contact the editor responsible for this story: Manuela Hoelterhoff at mhoelterhoff@bloomberg.net.
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