Written by Anton Chekhov. Adapted by Joanna Murray-Smith. Directed by Mark Kilmurry.
Darkly comic, hugely melancholic and thoughtfully adapted, this ‘Uncle Vanya’ brings a biting realism to the Ensemble Theatre
Reviewed by Justin Clarke
Ensemble Theatre, Kirribilli
Until 31st August, 2024
Tickets: https://www.ensemble.com.au/shows/uncle-vanya/
Most recently, the name Vanya has soared to popularity through Andrew Scott’s one man performance of Anton Chekhov’s text which recently premiered on the West End before screening internationally thanks to National Theatre Live. Chekhov’s tragicomedy had new life breathed into it through Scott’s portrayal of each character, bringing a unique look to the regularly performed text. Celebrated Australian playwright Joanna Murray-Smith now follows in the footsteps of adapting Chekhov’s work in a new production premiering at the Ensemble Theatre in which we see the flouncing melodrama of Chekhov’s characters imbued with a biting realism.
Nick Fry’s superbly decorated set design transports audiences immediately to the dilapidated country estate in which we see the notions of privilege, boredom and hope play out. Matt Cox’s efficient lighting design highlights the twig-like branches that crawl over dark brown painted wood running from floor to ceiling, while oil lamps sit above an ornate bookshelf filled with memories and glasses for vodka. Rain patters with pathetic fallacy on an unseen window cut into the lighting grid, the drizzling drops echoing on the conversations that take place underneath; it’s a magically realised space.
Beyond the double glass doors of the estate sits the forest beyond, creating an isolating, yet homely playground in which we see the the play’s namesake, Uncle Vanya (Yalin Ozucelik) and his niece Sonya (Abbey Morgan) keep the great Professor Serebryakov’s (David Lynch) estate in running order.
Uncle Vanya, Ensemble Theatre (2024). Images by Prudence Upton
The arrival of Sonya’s father, Serebryakov, releases long repressed feelings of disdain and resentment towards the Professor’s privilege and self-centred melodrama. The addition of his alluring wife Yelena (Chantelle Jamieson) and her airs of boredom and deep seated regret at her marriage to Serebryakov brings with it an attempt at release for Vanya and the visiting Doctor Astrov (Tim Walter). It’s Sonya’s desire for Astrov, as well as Vanya and Astrov’s desire for both Yelena’s body, mind and the possibility of freeing her from a life of abject misery, that drives a large portion of the play’s tension.
Director Mark Kilmurry has an adept hand at bringing abject misery and realism to Murray-Smith’s adaptation that is the shining star in Uncle Vanya. Nearly every character is disillusioned, believing themselves to be the most miserable and victimised. Only Nanny (Vanessa Downing) and Telyeghin/Waffles (John Gaden AO), who stand out as the lowest in the social hierarchy of the estate, are the most at peace with their roles in life.
There’s a searing quality to the adaptation that Murray-Smith plays with, imbuing the piece with bouts of dark humour and hopelessness.
Gone are the Russian accents, replaced with Australianisms and attitudes that transports the melodrama and dejection in Chekhov’s 1896 text to the 21st Century. There’s a searing quality to the adaptation that Murray-Smith plays with, imbuing the piece with bouts of dark humour and hopelessness. The Doctor’s one respite being the knowledge that in 100 years humanity will have ridden itself of depression, is a darkly comedic comment on society across time. As are the notions of one’s sex and age connecting to the competition of misery that takes place across the weekend spent in Uncle Vanya.
Amongst the melodrama and melancholy is a stumbling amongst the cast as lines are dropped and flaming candles come close to searing skin. It’s enough to take you out of the piece entirely. What the first act offered in messiness was cleaned up in the second and replaced with a firmness in movement and attitude to leave audiences with a dejectedly broken protagonist sitting opposite a young beacon of hope.
Ozucelik’s Vanya covers up his melancholic lot in life with humour and gaudiness. His love for his niece Sonya and continuing love for his lost sister drives his need to remain to care for what she left behind. Ozucelik’s eventual breakdown opposite Lynch’s Serebryakov’s is a standout in the piece, leaving nothing to be heard but a pindrop as the bubbling tension reaches its explosive end.
It’s at times darkly comic, whilst mirroring messages of our immediate society
As the young Sonya, Morgan brings a stark realism to a young girl in love with a man with whom a relationship could never occur. Her embarrassment at flirtatious attempts reminds us of the childish nature of love which reflects with stark contrast to the older male characters who let it ruin their lives, turning them to the bottle for an answer. What starts off as uneven ground for Morgan eventually leads her to be the play’s shining beacon.
Comedic respite is given in spades from Downing’s motherlike Nanny and Gaden’s Waffles as he embodies a pitiable character with outrageous comedic timing. Meanwhile Lynch gives his Professor an unbearable air of privilege in his self-righteous sorrow at being old and wondering why the dutiful Yelena is married to him.
Jamieson feels at odds with her Yelena, being a character who takes up a large amount of space and attention, but stands out amongst the cadence of the rest of the characters’ rhythms. When it comes time to settle into her own torn world however, the misery with which Jamieson provides Yelena finds its place in Kilmurry’s vision. Her chemistry with Walter’s Astrov gives way to further discussions of misery and self-imprisonment in society, with Walter himself casting a large presence in the agonising Doctor.
Joanna Murray-Smith’s Uncle Vanya inherits Chekhov’s melancholic airs of hopelessness, entrenched in a pre-revolutionary Russia where the world of the Tsars is replaced with the notions of privilege and those who are too miserable to appreciate it. It’s at times darkly comic, whilst mirroring messages of our immediate society, and offers perhaps a glimmer of hope for the next generation. Will we finally cure depression in 100 years? The writing may not be as clearly on the wall as we’d hope.
CAST & CREATIVES
Vanessa Downing Cast – Nanny/Maryia
John Gaden AOÂ Cast – Telyeghin
Chantelle Jamieson Cast – Yelena
David Lynch Cast – Serebryakov
Abbey Morgan Cast – Sonya
Yalin Ozucelik Cast – Vanya
Tim Walter Cast – Astrov
Anton Chekhov Playwright
Joanna Murray-Smith Adapted by
Mark Kilmurry Director
Emma Canalese Assistant Director
Nick Fry Set & Costume Designer
Matt Cox Lighting Designer
Steve Francis Composer & Sound Designer
Nick Curnow Dialect Coach
Chloë Dallimore Intimacy Director
Lauren Tulloh Stage Manger
Christopher Starnawski  Assistant Stage Manager
Renata Beslik Costume Supervisor