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Uncle Vanya
This new edition of Chekhov’s paean to regret can claim multiple authors. There’s the doctor-turned-writer himself, of course, as well as Peyankov and Christensen, the team behind numerous translations of Russian plays for the now-defunct European Repertory Company. But there are also contributions from a couple of uncredited guys: In the course of the evening, Djukich’s actors perform songs by Bob Dylan and Delta bluesman Mississippi John Hurt.
Yet this isn’t a postmodern revision; instead, it’s a faithful translation of a melancholy script that always suggested music. The song choices, like certain touches in Natasha Vuchurovich Djukich’s costumes, are simply modern accents enhancing the timeless, universal aspects of Chekhov’s provincial Russian tale—no matter how much we’re disappointed by our current situation, we keep hope alive that something better is on its way.
Martin Andrew’s balsa wood–like set suggests a blown-up architectural model, mirroring Chekhov’s miniaturization of class issues (and it’s yet another example of how the Chopin basement’s limitations inspire scenic-design innovations). Djukich keeps the focus on the human relationships, priming heartbreakingly genuine performances from Maclin as put-upon Vanya and Green as the unattainable object of his affection. Chicago stage legend Houston blusters appropriately as the not-so-big-time professor, and Stone nails the fooling-herself duplicity of Vanya’s dutiful niece: She’ll just keep suppressing the rage, and hope for a reward in the next life.
