Chances are, no one has ever determined scientifically which great playwright most often gets played badly. But if someone ever tries, Anton Chekhov will surely contend for the crown.
Witness Mark Zakharov's sputtering new production of "The Seagull" at the Lenkom Theater.
The director, famous for his booming, boisterous productions, has publicly stated that his purpose was to avoid the proverbial, "boring Chekhov." And while he sets off no cannons (as he did in "The Marriage of Figaro") nor collapses the ceiling (as he did in "The Wiseman"), in "The Seagull" he does give Chekhov's fascination with unrequited love a new twist.
Here, lovesick people do not pine for intangible objects of desire, they paw at them comically, nervously fiddling to undo buttons, or clumsily throwing a leg around a reluctant partner. The sighs, which indeed mar so many Chekhov productions, are usually replaced with bitter anger or arrogance.
But it is not the ideas that went wrong -- Zakharov's interpretation may be even more justifiable than most -- it is their realization that fails to convince.
The director wasted a brilliant half of a cast by subordinating it to barely competent performances in the leads.
Casualty number one is the scintillating Inna Churikova -- certainly Russia's finest actress -- in the role of Arkadina, the aging queen of the stage whose wanton vanity and irrepressible energy have alienated her from her son Treplev, a sensitive, would-be writer.
As Trigorin, Arkadina's straying lover and a famous author, the next casualty is the sublime Oleg Yankovsky, whose brilliant performance in Andrei Tarkovsky's film classic, "Nostalgia," is only one in a career of stage and screen highlights. Also nearly lost in the shuffle is the splendid Leonid Bronevoi as Dorn, the not-quite-yet-cynical doctor who might infect someone with common sense if only someone were listening. Bronevoi's rumpled, charmingly self-indulgent style has made him one of Moscow's top actors for nearly 30 years.
But for all the importance this trio has in "The Seagull," it is a play about youth; its hopes, its dreams, its mortal dangers. The self-destructive young Treplev and his beloved Nina Zarechnaya -- who aspires to be a great actress like Arkadina, but ends as Trigorin's discarded mistress -- are the play's reasons for being.
And that is why this production falls flat.
Dmitry Pevtsov is grossly miscast as Treplev. The admirable talent he has shown over the years in the physical, acrobatic elements of his profession has often been enough to conceal his weakness at giving a role depth.
But here, the actor's attempt to interpret his darkly contemplative and hypersensitive character comes off as boyish and meek.
No less overmatched is the director's daughter, Alexandra Zakharova, in the role of Zarechnaya.
While she did bring something to the shrill, rosy-cheeked and earthbound Countess Almaviva in "Figaro" two years ago, Zakharova is a washout as Chekhov's fragile, searching heroine.
Perhaps realizing his younger actors could not hold their own against their more accomplished partners, Zakharov minimized the competition, and crippled the show. Churikova is often positioned with her back to the audience, and sits hidden behind a curtain when delivering Arkadina's famous line about her fans showering her with adulation in Kharkov.
Sure, for a few fleeting moments at the end of the first act, Churikova and Yankovsky are brilliant as she jealously tries arresting his character's inevitable drift toward Zarechnaya. They even make the clumsy sexual gymnastics foisted on them seem natural. But it's not enough.
The beautiful sets by Oleg Sheintsis consist of a spectacular, silvery lake scene, created ingeniously by strings drawn tautly across the stage, and a rich interior that perfectly conjures the atmosphere of a fin-de-siecle Russian drawing room. They provide welcome distraction in the many moments that need it.
"The Seagull" ("Chaika") plays Oct. 11, 12, 25, 26 and 27 at 7 P.M. at the Lenkom Theater, 6 Ulitsa Chekhova. Tel. 299-0708. Running Time: 3 hours.
Witness Mark Zakharov's sputtering new production of "The Seagull" at the Lenkom Theater.
The director, famous for his booming, boisterous productions, has publicly stated that his purpose was to avoid the proverbial, "boring Chekhov." And while he sets off no cannons (as he did in "The Marriage of Figaro") nor collapses the ceiling (as he did in "The Wiseman"), in "The Seagull" he does give Chekhov's fascination with unrequited love a new twist.
Here, lovesick people do not pine for intangible objects of desire, they paw at them comically, nervously fiddling to undo buttons, or clumsily throwing a leg around a reluctant partner. The sighs, which indeed mar so many Chekhov productions, are usually replaced with bitter anger or arrogance.
But it is not the ideas that went wrong -- Zakharov's interpretation may be even more justifiable than most -- it is their realization that fails to convince.
The director wasted a brilliant half of a cast by subordinating it to barely competent performances in the leads.
Casualty number one is the scintillating Inna Churikova -- certainly Russia's finest actress -- in the role of Arkadina, the aging queen of the stage whose wanton vanity and irrepressible energy have alienated her from her son Treplev, a sensitive, would-be writer.
As Trigorin, Arkadina's straying lover and a famous author, the next casualty is the sublime Oleg Yankovsky, whose brilliant performance in Andrei Tarkovsky's film classic, "Nostalgia," is only one in a career of stage and screen highlights. Also nearly lost in the shuffle is the splendid Leonid Bronevoi as Dorn, the not-quite-yet-cynical doctor who might infect someone with common sense if only someone were listening. Bronevoi's rumpled, charmingly self-indulgent style has made him one of Moscow's top actors for nearly 30 years.
But for all the importance this trio has in "The Seagull," it is a play about youth; its hopes, its dreams, its mortal dangers. The self-destructive young Treplev and his beloved Nina Zarechnaya -- who aspires to be a great actress like Arkadina, but ends as Trigorin's discarded mistress -- are the play's reasons for being.
And that is why this production falls flat.
Dmitry Pevtsov is grossly miscast as Treplev. The admirable talent he has shown over the years in the physical, acrobatic elements of his profession has often been enough to conceal his weakness at giving a role depth.
But here, the actor's attempt to interpret his darkly contemplative and hypersensitive character comes off as boyish and meek.
No less overmatched is the director's daughter, Alexandra Zakharova, in the role of Zarechnaya.
While she did bring something to the shrill, rosy-cheeked and earthbound Countess Almaviva in "Figaro" two years ago, Zakharova is a washout as Chekhov's fragile, searching heroine.
Perhaps realizing his younger actors could not hold their own against their more accomplished partners, Zakharov minimized the competition, and crippled the show. Churikova is often positioned with her back to the audience, and sits hidden behind a curtain when delivering Arkadina's famous line about her fans showering her with adulation in Kharkov.
Sure, for a few fleeting moments at the end of the first act, Churikova and Yankovsky are brilliant as she jealously tries arresting his character's inevitable drift toward Zarechnaya. They even make the clumsy sexual gymnastics foisted on them seem natural. But it's not enough.
The beautiful sets by Oleg Sheintsis consist of a spectacular, silvery lake scene, created ingeniously by strings drawn tautly across the stage, and a rich interior that perfectly conjures the atmosphere of a fin-de-siecle Russian drawing room. They provide welcome distraction in the many moments that need it.
"The Seagull" ("Chaika") plays Oct. 11, 12, 25, 26 and 27 at 7 P.M. at the Lenkom Theater, 6 Ulitsa Chekhova. Tel. 299-0708. Running Time: 3 hours.
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