Levinsky's New Take on 'Krechinsky's Wedding'

For all the productions one sees of Alexander Sukhovo-Kobylin's three plays, the great 19th-century author of deeply, even jarringly, disturbing comedies somehow remains beyond our grasp. Each time one of his plays is produced, there is a sense that it is being discovered for the first time.

That is certainly true of Alexei Levinsky's new interpretation of "Krechinsky's Wedding" on the small stage of the Yermolova Theater. It is the first and "lightest" piece in the famous trilogy about people being consumed by greed and evil. But, as Levinsky demonstrates, there is plenty in this play to disconcert anyone with even the toughest set of nerves.

Levinsky's boldest step was to throw out the entire first act. By doing so, he skips over long expository scenes taking place in the Muromsky home where Lidochka, the only daughter, is in a tizzy as she begins to realize that she will be engaged to the dashing Krechinsky. As a result, this production hits the ground running, hiding none of the play's most menacing aspects. It opens in Krechinsky's dark, dank apartment as the butler counts off a humorous but damning litany of his master's sins.

Levinsky went further still by adding a character mentioned only briefly in the text -- a mysterious woman who once loved Krechinsky but, spurned, ended up dying abroad. As played by Svetlana Dikaanidas, she is a dignified, inscrutable figure who haunts Krechinsky and everything that happens in his home. Is she the proverbial woman who got away, the memory that poisons Krechinsky by constantly reminding him of what his life might have been?

The crux of this play -- enhanced in Levinsky's production -- is that Krechinsky is on the verge of ruin from gambling debts he cannot repay. His scheme to wriggle out of the tight spot is to pawn Lidochka's diamond brooch but switch it at the last moment with a glass fake. This way he gets his money, and Lidochka, knowing nothing of the bogus transaction, keeps her jewelry. To make sure no ill-wishers foil his plot, Krechinsky demands that the wedding be moved up to the next day.

As is common, even obligatory, in a Levinsky production, the action is often stopped for the singing of songs. They come as key topics -- death, money, departures -- arise in the dialogue or action. The songs are remnants of ritual, encoded activities that remind people of the dreams they have even as their lives collapse around them.

In the flat, black set designed by Viktor Arkhipov, doors and walls are represented by cage-like panels that one would expect to find in a prison or dungeon. The atmosphere is sinister and unsettling.

Dmitry Pavlenko plays Krechinsky with a blank stare. His expressionless face, toneless voice and slightly curling upper lip are capable of sending a chill down the spine. Is this person human, or did he never quite reach that level of development? The cruelty with which he manipulates his friend Rasplyuyev (Sergei Vlasenko) seems muted for the nonchalance with which it is meted out. His jaded sense of morality is clearly revealed in his unguarded talks with his butler Fyodor (Andrei Kalashnikov), a man who deeply admires his master for his ability to cross freely over borders of propriety.

Levinsky, using the small stage to his advantage, sets up a series of close-up portraits of men moved by -- and obsessed with -- money, power and vice. Krechinsky's home is a veritable den of iniquity. The fact that Krechinsky and his cohorts are depicted with an opulent, if twisted, sense of humor changes that not a whit.

The appearance of the Muromskys in this rendition is anticlimactic. Lidochka (Yelena Puris), her father (Alexander Kovalev) and her aunt Atuyeva (Marina Zhukova) are little more than fatted calves arriving in time for the slaughter. They do, however, provide an effective foil for the prevaricating Krechinsky and Co. Easily one of the funniest scenes in this production is Rasplyuyev's attempt to engage Muromsky in cultured parlor talk without revealing his utter ignorance.

It is the humor, of course, that makes Sukhovo-Kobylin's plays masterworks. In "Krechinsky's Wedding," the author's meaty phrases, grotesque images and his feel for the often-odd texture of the Russian language are delivered by Levinsky's actors with understated flair and appreciation.

Following "The Death of Tarelkin," this is Levinsky's second production of Sukhovo-Kobylin at the Yermolova. I would like to think that "The Case," the fulcrum point of the trilogy, is yet to come.

"Krechinsky's Wedding" (Svadba Krechinskogo) plays Fri. and June 2 at 7 p.m. in the small hall at the Yermolova Theater, located at 5/6 Tverskaya Ulitsa. Metro Okhotny Ryad. Tel. 629-0031, 629-0007. www.ermolova.theatre.ru. Running time: 2 hours, 20 minutes.