‘Uncle Vanya’ Engages, But Is It Chekhov?

Michael Sturgis
Neon Tommy
Published in
4 min readNov 15, 2015

“People eat their dinner, just eat their dinner, and all the time their happiness is taking form, or their lives are being destroyed.” — Anton Chekhov

“Uncle Vanya” is perhaps the most quintessential Chekhov play: it exposes the inaction of his characters, while also uncovering their hopes and losses. People still come to see Chekhov because his plays reach out to everyone, through what happens within the text. His plays are heightened; we see the moments that illustrate the emotional life that we cannot articulate. This is extremely difficult to achieve in the theatre.

So it does not help, then, that the translation of the Antaeus Company’s production of “Uncle Vanya is its weakest element. By pedestrianizing the text, translator Annie Baker permits the actors to bring the text into themselves, and deliver the piece in a naturalistic manner. The efforts that are put into this, however, make it difficult to view the characters as people who are painfully unaware of their inner-truth. Instead of using Chekhov’s text as words said out of fear of acknowledging a deeper truth, the actors in this production are led to use the text as literal. Referring to the quote above, the actors simply “ate their dinner,” and the comedy came from their lazy languish. The audience never sees the balance of ecstasy and agony, that lies in every characters’ attempt to find a reason to live.

Baker states that she had a “huge revelation” when “discover[ing]…the Russian text is riddled with…words like ‘tak’ and ‘nu,’ rough equivalents of ‘um’ and ‘er.’” Dr. Sharon Carnicke, Russian master and author of “Checking Out Chekhov, speaks on the contrary: “As for ‘tak’ (so) and ‘nu’ (well), these words are not used randomly in Chekhov. Sometimes he has a tongue tied character, like Telegin, but all the other characters in “Uncle Vanya” are very articulate and don’t hem and haw.” The colloquial insertions of Baker’s translation do not encourage a thorough examination of what the characters are actually dealing with; unfortunately, the interpretation of the words are often detrimental to what the audience sees.

That being said, the actors have unity with each other, making the world of the play immersive and vivid. The love, lust, and tension in each relationship are palpable. My disappointment lies in the embodiment of what the characters are dealing with. In other words, the actors play the obstacle, instead of showing us an active resistance to an unbridled lust and lethargy. The characters do not strive for any kind of purpose, which makes the last act strangely dissonant. Again, this is attributed to the translation.

The set is particularly inviting to its audience. Every inch of stage is used, while still encapsulating the reality of a Russian estate. When we see the actors change the set, the story never stops; there is always something to see (or hear, in regard to the live music interludes). Furthermore, the space is flexible, accommodating scenes that take place outside as well as inside the house. Sound and lighting are also crucial to creating this belief, and these technical elements make all the difference.

The costumes in this production are anachronistic. This does not interfere with the world of the play… except for a few bizarre moments, such as when Yelena puts on her Michael Kors-esque purse, and then announces that the horses have arrived. Perhaps a fully accurate production of Chekhov is seen as inaccessible, because it is rooted in a time that no longer exists. Or, perhaps, the older generations who have seen “Uncle Vanya” be produced as a “museum piece” yearn to see another interpretation. Whatever the case, this production abides by the general progression of Chekhov’s original work, while also giving us another, more modern aesthetic.

In the end, if you have not seen one of Chekhov’s plays, I do not hesitate to recommend a visit to Antaeus within the next three weeks. The efficacy of the set, the precision of the sound and lighting, and the unity of the players come together to create a succinct story. Granted, the text does not optimize the exquisite layers that lie underneath the characters’ daily lives. However, there is enough in this production to remind me of why we still come to see Chekhov’s plays. In fact, I will be visiting again before the end of the run. There are a few different casting combinations each evening, since each role has two actors for the show’s run. Hats off to Antaeus for producing “Uncle Vanya,” and giving us something tangible — though not always adequately challenging — to examine.

“Uncle Vanya” runs through December 6. Antaeus Theatre Company is located at 5112 Lankershim Blvd, in North Hollywood. The cast of each performance differs. More information can be found here. Tickets are $34, with a student discount available with presentation of ID. Inquire by calling the box office at (818) 506–5436.

Contact Contributor Michael Sturgis here.

Rebekah Tripp and Don R. McManus. Photo by Karianne Flaathen.
Arye Gross. Photo by Karianne Flaathen.

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