If you are struck by deja vu during Rimas Tuminas’ production of Mikhail Lermontov’s “The Masquerade” at the Vakhtangov Theater, chances are it is because you saw this show — or something quite similar — a decade ago when Tuminas brought to Moscow his production for the Small Theater of Vilnius, Lithuania.
For the sense of vertigo you are likely to experience during the show, you can thank designer Adomas Jacovskis. His walls of falling snow at times make the stage at the Vakhtangov look like the inside of one of those toys of plastic-encapsulated snowstorms. It can be unsettling, and it is utterly gorgeous.
Directors often repeat successful productions in various cities. It is not necessarily a recommended practice. What was fresh the first time around may be routine when repeated.
That is not the case with this visually inspiring, sad and humorous interpretation of Lermontov’s classic remake of the Othello myth. If this show did not have the air of surprise and discovery for me, that is surely because I remember so vividly seeing it in the past. In this new go-’round, it is every bit as funny, sad and beautiful.
Lermontov, a poet with a weakness for excessive behavior and fatalistic thinking, completed “The Masquerade” five years before he was killed in a duel at the age of 27. Its story of an aging gambler named Arbenin tragically falling victim to the nasty tricks he used to play on others is shot through with the arrogance and fascination with high-society glitter that young people’s minds are occasionally susceptible to.
This, incidentally, makes it a relatively accurate reflection of modern-day Russia, a place that is no stranger to hedonism, cynicism and glamour worship.
But it is the other side of the coin that makes this verse play come to life in such a compelling way — the losses, the mistakes and the flat-out human ignorance that rule people’s lives.
Tuminas commands a masterful imagination, even if that has not always been evident in the shows that he has staged since taking over as artistic director at the Vakhtangov three seasons ago. His powers are on full display here.
Lermontov surely did not envision such a rich and moving interpretation of Arbenin’s servant, designated by Tuminas as Winter Person. This touching, sensitive, forlorn individual — who longs for beauty and love, possesses a conscience and may even possess magical capabilities — completely recasts Lermontov’s play by offering a visual and emotional counterbalance to the cold, rational and ultimately stupid world of Arbenin and his cohorts.
Tuminas’ Winter Person, who can make huge fish leap out of frozen rivers and, rather like Sisyphus, constantly shoves around a growing snow ball, is performed with heart and soul by Oleg Lopukhov. His strange, clumsy, occasionally simplistic, but always intriguing doings have the feeling of real life.
Arbenin (Yevgeny Knyazev) is a jaded ex-society lion who retired from the fast lane to live with what today would be called his “trophy wife” Nina (Maria Volkova). Knyazev plays him as dead matter for most of the duration.
Death has not quite come, however. And when it does, it is not Arbenin’s.
Nina loses a bracelet at a masquerade ball and, in a mix-up, finds herself fending off the unwanted advances of the rakish Count Zvezdich (Leonid Bichevin). This humiliating reminder of a rotten lifestyle that Arbenin thought he had left behind throws him into a blind fury that is assuaged only when he poisons his wife.
Tuminas constantly assesses this individual story against the backdrop of a larger, social picture.
A group of murderous, thieving gamblers, huddled closely around the cutthroat Kazarin (Alexander Pavlov), repeatedly shuffles out as a hydra-headed beast to fleece the helpless or punish enemies. A nearly faceless, larger throng of revelers frequently scurries across the snowy stage as though it were a happy pack of wolves, making much noise but leaving few traces.
In the music of Faustas Latenas, a wintry wind hugs lonely notes played on piano, organ and bells.
This world, buried in constant blizzards, is as desolate and dangerous as it is attractive. Jacovskis’ spare set features a few statues and pedestals backed by a solid-white backdrop, making it appear as if snowdrifts are about to inundate everyone and everything. A frozen river coughs up not only monstrous fish but also dead bodies, while the temporarily carefree Zvezdich skates over its slippery surface.
Tuminas’ telling of Lermontov’s tale is harsh and unforgiving. And yet, that folksy, ever-busy Winter Person never fails to temper things with warmth and beauty.
“The Masquerade” (Maskarad) plays Feb. 20, March 13, 20 and 21 at 7 p.m. at the Vakhtangov Theater, located at 26 Ulitsa Arbat. Metro Smolenskaya. Tel. 241-1679. www.vahtangov.ru. Running time: 2 hours, 55 minutes.
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