Posted 15 September 2012 - 11:06 AM
Posted 29 September 2012 - 06:10 PM
Every wrong-headed cliche and directorial excess you can think of was employed in this one. No subtlety, no nuance, Chekhov's exquisitely complex characters reduced to stupid stereotypes. No pace, no tension, no drama. Two of the cast were worthy of a better production - William Houston who managed not to make Vershinin the bore he can so easily become, and Sam Troughton who was a near perfect Tuzenbach. As to the others, it's hard to blame them when they have been so ineptly directed.
Posted 01 October 2012 - 06:06 AM
I thought Michael Feast was excellent, as he always is these days, but playing the Doctor in the style of the "modifed" production rather than what Chekov wrote. The cast considerably better than the director I'd say.
After their sensational Hamlet reboot this one was less convincing, we do not see the play often enough in its "traditional" format to make a radical reinterpretation effective, but anyway it is an interesting niche for the Young Vic to occupy.
Posted 06 October 2012 - 05:51 PM
The cast are mostly excellent, although I thought Kirby, Kirrane and Gale stood out.
Having seen Gross und Klein and thinking that the directing outstripped the play it's good to see the same director approaching a timeless classic, I hope that his shows visit these shows more regularly.
Posted 07 October 2012 - 08:31 AM
You think ? Thematically maybe, but stylistically I always consider Chekov as a precursor to Pinter (for example in the way people talk re-iterating their same point over and over again with no-one at all really listening to what they are saying).
Posted 07 October 2012 - 08:39 AM
Only problem I had with the staging was during the dinner party scene, from the front row of the centre stalls the view of most of the stage was blocked by the large carnival head that had been left on stage. I considered standing up and moving it but thought that might be classed as "bad behaviour"
Posted 07 October 2012 - 10:56 AM
I think of Pinter's characters as impelled by an anger that contrasts with the the humanity of those of Beckett (and of Chekhov). I can never connect with Pinter's characters the way that I can with the latter duo.
In any case, I thought that the production brought out the Beckettian aspect, a mound of earth, a vein of painful humour (also brought out by Peter Brook in Fragments, again at the Young Vic) and the inevitable tick tock of time, being born 'astride the grave'.
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