THEATRE REVIEW: THE CHERRY ORCHARD
29 May'10

Russian classic gets Irish twist

JOHN COULBOURN - QMI Agency
Rating: 4.5 out of 5

NIAGARA-ON-THE-LAKE — The good news, for those not completely enamoured of all things Irish, is that this is not a case of cutting down an historic stand of soft-fruit trees to plant a bumper crop of Irish cobblers.

But by focusing the attentions of an Irish director — the estimable Jason Byrne — on a translation/adaptation of Anton Chekhov’s THE CHERRY ORCHARD, wrought by an Irish playwright — the equally esteemed Tom Murphy — the Shaw Festival has come up with a pretty tasty bit of theatrical fusion. THE CHERRY ORCHARD — or at least Murphy’s version of it — opened in its Canadian premiere under Byrne’s direction Thursday on the Shaw Festival’s Court House stage. Happily, fans of the Russian classic will have no trouble recognizing the tale, even if an occasional shamrock might pop up, at least figuratively, in the middle of an emotional landscape still profoundly and powerfully Russian.

Chekhov’s play — the last of his stellar career — is by now familiar turf, a tale of a country estate and the family that owns it, both having fallen on hard times in the declining days of the czars. The estate in question, with its exotic orchard of cherry trees, is property of Madame Ranyevskaya, played here with charming elegance and detachment by Laurie Paton. On the heels of a disastrous and international affair with a married man, she has returned to her family’s country estate to try to rescue it, with help from her ineffectual brother (Jim Mezon), from the creditors that are circling like vultures.

Even though the solution to her problem is at hand, thanks to a scheme cooked up by new man — a member of the emerging middle class, played by Benedict Campbell — Madame and her coterie are so rooted in the past and present that they simply can’t wrap their heads around a tragic future hurtling toward them.

Peopled by an extensive cast of characters, THE CHERRY ORCHARD offers an impressive showcase for the Shaw company. As a director, Byrne makes the most of it, drawing finely etched performances not just from the sultry-voiced Paton, but from a host of supporting players as well. Robin Evan Williams and Severn Thompson, for instance, do some fine work as Madame’s daughters, natural (Willis) and adopted (Thompson). After too long an absence, Gord Rand makes an impressive return to the Shaw stage too, cast as the perpetual student Trofimov, while Gabrielle Jones delights as Charlotta, a governess who has transformed herself into the role of court jester with the death of Madame’s son.

Even the servants are impressive on the Ranyevskaya estate. Al Kozlik is both touching and amusing as Firs, the ancient family retainer, while Julie Martell and Mark Uhre make their marks, respectively, as a giddy young housemaid and an ambitious, heartless valet.

In staging the work, Byrne uses every inch of the playing space this intimate theatre offers, moving his cast with studied aimlessness through a simple, effective set designed by Peter Hartwell and lit by Kevin Lamotte, carefully sculpting the studied langour in which it seems Chekhov thrives best.

Which is not to say this ORCHARD blossoms fully under his care. While Campbell tackles his role as the perpetual outsider with his usual alacrity, he also allows too much of his performance from last year’s production of THE ENTERTAINER to bleed through. He almost dances his way through the role, coming precariously close to levitating like a Russian leprechaun. And while Mezon is impressive, in the end he is simply too powerful a presence to be believable as Madame’s ineffectual brother.

But this is an Orchard to treasure. It’s a Russian classic, freshened up with just a hint o’ an Irish spring in its step.