
WHAT IS IT about Chekhov that makes us relate so beautifully to his characters that we can be unbridled in our laughter, cringes and agony of recognition at their psychological turmoil and suffocating family closeness? Director Sam Yates and writer Simon Stephens have cooked up a fresh and deep understanding of Chekhov’s 1897 play Uncle Vanya, which concertinas all his characters to coexist under the authority of just one performer. And Andrew Scott is the man for the job, in every conceivable sense. You can experience the extraordinary Vanya, staged on London’s West End and screened by National Theatre Live, at Cinema Nouveau in South Africa, for two performances this week.
Alexander is the professor. He’s caught in the agony of his reputation, condemned as he feels he is, under the weight of great awards and some reworking of great classics to boast of. He’s married to Helena, who is much younger than he. She’s also beautiful. She’s his second wife. His first was the wonderful piano-playing Anna, whose adult daughter, Sonja still lives with her dad and his wife. Vanya is the brother of Helena, Sonja’s uncle. And Michael is the love interest of the room. Sonja adores him. He’s the family doctor attending to the compromised Alexander, and he lusts after the beautiful Helena. Confused yet? Well, imagine this whole situation performed by just one performer, occasionally armed with a chain around his neck, a mien involving his forehead or specific poses that indicate who is who.
The cast also comprises Liam who sits on a stool in the kitchen and casts judgement; Ilya, or is it Nicholas?; Maureen voicing opinions from somewhere obscure; and a dog – nine speaking characters in all. It’s like a whirligig on smack, with a door in the middle that gives exits and entrances clarity. But you always know that whoever goes out that door will be someone else when they return, or even when Scott looks at the stage with a different eye. The unsettling hilarity of the work is spiced by your understanding of who is in the room at any given time and who is talking about whom in their absence.
Using a whole range of different English accents, as is the won’t of other Russian works translated into BBC Radio, it offers a gloss on class hierarchies that is at once telling and direct. It’s about too much alcohol and too little love shared, not enough self-love and great tumours of self-deprecation and sheer nastiness at every turn. It is not an easy work to watch, but as you slide into the style of language used by each character, so do beautiful nuances emerge that enable you – as you would in the context of brilliantly performed puppetry – to suspend your pragmatic eye and believe the narrative for how it is presented.
It’s an NT Live experience with a difference that might not be everyone’s cup of tea, replete as it is with heavy dollops of irony and self-reflexivity. Every one of the these characters portrayed by Scott is loveable and hateful, stultifying and irritating as people are. But each has their own persona. Unequivocally it’s a masterclass in performance. Scott carries the heavy almost two hours of this complex work with aplomb and elegance.
- Vanya is written by Simon Stephens, based on Anton Chekhov’s 1897 play, Uncle Vanya. Directed by Sam Yates and featuring production design by Rosanna Vize, it is performed by Andrew Scott and was originally staged in London’s West End. It is being screened by NT Live and Ster Kinekor in Rosebank, Johannesburg; Brooklyn Pretoria; Gateway, Durban; and V&A, Cape Town on 2 and 3 October 2024.
Categories: Film, Review, Robyn Sassen, Theatre, Uncategorized

I didn’t last very long. Loved the text but found it confusing and couldn’t have been bothered. It felt like an acting exercise.