The Cherry Orchard at The Young Vic

I expected great things from Simon Stephen’s new version of Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard at The Young Vic and I’m sorry to say that I was bitterly disappointed.

Set in modern times, this paired down version (it last two hours with no interval) directed by Katie Mitchell, left me in no doubt that here less is definitely not more.  I felt no connection with what was happening on stage and thereby totally uninvolved.  I’ve seen the play several times, so know the plot and that Chekhov was railing against mass deforestation.  Also in previous productions, the irony and humour has come through.  But not here and my companion, who was new to play, needed to go home and actually read a full length version to gain any sense of the why’s and wherefores. 

Chekhov’s main character, Madam Ranevskaya returns to her childhood home after five year’s absence and discovers that all is definitely not well.  Her affairs have been so badly managed that, not only does her beloved cherry orchard have to go, but also the house that goes with it.  Her only choice is to return to exile in France, but, being in denial, it takes her most of the play to come to terms with this turn of events.

One usually feels for the poor woman but here I just wanted her and her retinue to up sticks and leave as soon as possible.  The largely miscast, Kate Duchene is partly to blame, spending far too much time clattering around on the bare wooden floorboard when she isn’t weeping and wailing about her drowned son.  Nothing about her performance is subtle and, like the majority of the cast, so much of her speeches are lost because Katie Mitchell has a thing about making her actors talk upstage with their backs to the audience.  Realism?  Possibly but what’s the point if the audience can’t hear what they’re saying.  Certain actors can accomplish this, but unfortunately not many of these are appearing on the Young Vic’s stage this time around.  Another strange stage direction is to make the majority of the cast enter and exit down stage at what is almost a run.  The floor of the set is bare floorboards, so this results in much clomping and not much subtlety.  Talking of lack of subtlety the governess played by Sarah Malin has it in spades.

There are one or two good performances.  Dominic Rowan makes a believable, Lopakhin, the son of a serf who is the eventual purchaser of the estate, whilst Gawn Grainger is a touching and understated Firs.  In fact he really is the only likeable character and the only one to elicit any sympathy. Paul Hilton as Peter Trofimov is an excellent actor and delivers an amusing performance, as the clumsy perpetual student but, unfortunately, the majority of his funny lines are muffled and inaudible.

The lighting is irritatingly dim, the atmosphere is always depressing and the sounds suggest something spooky in the wood shed.  Chekhov’s lightness of touch is gone, along with the felled trees.