Ivanov - Chekov's Exaggerated Hamlet
Ivanov was the final play we saw, the evening of 12 November 2008 at the beautifully restored Louis the XVI Wyndham Theatre just outside Leicester Square tube station on Charing Cross Road in the West End. Ivanov was the first of the Donmar's West End series, with the stated goal of bringing quality productions to wider audiences for a reasonable price. As it happens, it was the least accessible of the 5 plays, and also the most expensive to see. Perhaps the ticket price had to pay for the restoration of the cream and blue interior with painted box fronts.
It has to be stated, at the very beginning, that our seats were absolute crap. Row G in the Royal (Dress Circle). Row G is the add on row. The actual balcony goes to row F before there's an aisle and then a few steps up and then approximately 10 seats on a dais behind brass banisters. I'm not sure what these seats were meant for originally, but the refurbishment of the theatre did nothing to improve them. The sight lines were actually okay, but the seats were small. I mean really small, like there's a huge welt on my left cheek from trying to fit into them. Standing would have been preferable. So, perhaps my negative impression is in part, due to the deficiencies of the theatre rather than the production.
Production staging was basic. The play opens with Ivanov sitting on a crate reading a book with lighting creating the suggestion of whet fields behind him. The most elaborate set is the Lebedev's parlor where there is a card table at one side a round sitting bench downstage on the other and 3 straight backed chairs upstage by the garden doors. The parlor is lit dimly and the lighting remains dull throughout, perhaps to emphasize the dreary internal life of characters who appear to have few, if any, redeeming values. It is even remarked on in the flat, with Mrs. Lebedev turning off lights so as to not waster candles when no one is there to appreciate them.
To modern eyes, it's fairly easy to understand that Ivanov is clinically depressed. If you somehow missed the latest psychological developments, Chekhov makes sure your in no doubt of Ivanov's state of mind with direct textual references to Hamlet. The difference is that while Hamlet is a likeable characters, Ivanov is an arse. There's nothing redeeming about him and even what humor there is seems sour. It's as if Chekhov took Hamlet and said how can I make this more Russian, more depressing and every character more unlikable. There's simply no one to relate to. Particularly problematic for me is the character of Sasha, played by Andrea Riseborough. Sasha, the Lebedov's teenage daughter throws herself at the depressed, much older Ivanov, even while he's still married to the long suffering tubercular Anna Petrovna (Gina McKee). She realizes that trying to save him is futile and that their marriage will never work, but determines to follow through her decided course of action, no matter who tells her it's a bad idea. Even when Ivanov himself protests.
Despite the fact that I've concluded that generally I hate Chekhov, there were several good things about this production. Like the RSC's production of hamlet, Donmar's Ivanov plays up the humor that is in the text, but is often ignored in he productions. At one point, Ivanov drones on about how he can't understand what's wrong with him while Lebedov pops in and out, never noticed by Ivanov, too wrapped up in his own problems, and never allowed to get a word in in edgewise. The Colonel, Ivanov's drunk relation, is the comic relief, conducting a discussion with several characters about what is the best food to have with (too much) vodka which might have come directly out of a modern film about smoking pot..
There are also poignant moments that almost break your heart, if you cared at all about the characters. Long suffering Anna walks in on Sasha throwing herself on Ivanov and immediately draws the incorrect conclusions. Anna has given up her faith for Ivanov and been disowned by her family for it and is now dying of TB. She once had great faith in Ivanov, but it is apparently all gone. The great irony, of course, being the Ivanov is tempted, but not giving in. He, in his own way, is more honorable then Anna's self-righteous Doctor, Lvov.
Perhaps the best moment is a scene between Lebedov and Ivanov where Lebedov attempts to lend Ivanov the money to repay the loan Lebedov's wife has given Ivanov, which he's unable to pay. Lebedov plays the notes of currency folded on the table, very gingerly. Ivanov gazes at them, very still, before crumbling to the stage weeping. It is in this moment that Branagh shines and that you finally feel for Ivanov. I think crying is the hardest thing to do on stage or in film. It's so hard to make it real. Lebedov awkward comfort and intense desire to leave and embarrassment for Ivanov is echoed by the audience.
Aside from Branagh and Lebedov (Kevin R. McNally), an outstanding performance was also turned in by Tom Hiddleston as Lvov. Lvov is the character you’d empathize with, if you were going to relate to anyone in the play. The genius of Hiddleston's portrayal must be that he makes you hate the very character that you should like. Supporting cast also deserve kudos for their drunk acting, who manage to be silly & fun without looking too exaggerated or "acterly."
Some favorite visuals:
- Ivanov on the ground weeping with Lebedov torn between attempting some sort of physical comfort and running.
- Ivanov distraught, running off stage before his wedding, to finally take action and shoot himself.
Chill Factor: Minimal, mostly only for the moments of great acting mentioned above
Breathing: Throughout, everything feels inevitable and since it's too difficult to care about the characters, it's easy to remember to breathe.
Overall impressions: Wonderful cast, strong production, lovely translation by Stoppard, but I either don't care for the overall interpretation, or I just despise Chekhov. I'll take Shakespeare any day. Branagh is compelling and at some point should begin to age properly and stop looking 30 when he's nearly 50. The cast is too good for the play.
It has to be stated, at the very beginning, that our seats were absolute crap. Row G in the Royal (Dress Circle). Row G is the add on row. The actual balcony goes to row F before there's an aisle and then a few steps up and then approximately 10 seats on a dais behind brass banisters. I'm not sure what these seats were meant for originally, but the refurbishment of the theatre did nothing to improve them. The sight lines were actually okay, but the seats were small. I mean really small, like there's a huge welt on my left cheek from trying to fit into them. Standing would have been preferable. So, perhaps my negative impression is in part, due to the deficiencies of the theatre rather than the production.
Production staging was basic. The play opens with Ivanov sitting on a crate reading a book with lighting creating the suggestion of whet fields behind him. The most elaborate set is the Lebedev's parlor where there is a card table at one side a round sitting bench downstage on the other and 3 straight backed chairs upstage by the garden doors. The parlor is lit dimly and the lighting remains dull throughout, perhaps to emphasize the dreary internal life of characters who appear to have few, if any, redeeming values. It is even remarked on in the flat, with Mrs. Lebedev turning off lights so as to not waster candles when no one is there to appreciate them.
To modern eyes, it's fairly easy to understand that Ivanov is clinically depressed. If you somehow missed the latest psychological developments, Chekhov makes sure your in no doubt of Ivanov's state of mind with direct textual references to Hamlet. The difference is that while Hamlet is a likeable characters, Ivanov is an arse. There's nothing redeeming about him and even what humor there is seems sour. It's as if Chekhov took Hamlet and said how can I make this more Russian, more depressing and every character more unlikable. There's simply no one to relate to. Particularly problematic for me is the character of Sasha, played by Andrea Riseborough. Sasha, the Lebedov's teenage daughter throws herself at the depressed, much older Ivanov, even while he's still married to the long suffering tubercular Anna Petrovna (Gina McKee). She realizes that trying to save him is futile and that their marriage will never work, but determines to follow through her decided course of action, no matter who tells her it's a bad idea. Even when Ivanov himself protests.
Despite the fact that I've concluded that generally I hate Chekhov, there were several good things about this production. Like the RSC's production of hamlet, Donmar's Ivanov plays up the humor that is in the text, but is often ignored in he productions. At one point, Ivanov drones on about how he can't understand what's wrong with him while Lebedov pops in and out, never noticed by Ivanov, too wrapped up in his own problems, and never allowed to get a word in in edgewise. The Colonel, Ivanov's drunk relation, is the comic relief, conducting a discussion with several characters about what is the best food to have with (too much) vodka which might have come directly out of a modern film about smoking pot..
There are also poignant moments that almost break your heart, if you cared at all about the characters. Long suffering Anna walks in on Sasha throwing herself on Ivanov and immediately draws the incorrect conclusions. Anna has given up her faith for Ivanov and been disowned by her family for it and is now dying of TB. She once had great faith in Ivanov, but it is apparently all gone. The great irony, of course, being the Ivanov is tempted, but not giving in. He, in his own way, is more honorable then Anna's self-righteous Doctor, Lvov.
Perhaps the best moment is a scene between Lebedov and Ivanov where Lebedov attempts to lend Ivanov the money to repay the loan Lebedov's wife has given Ivanov, which he's unable to pay. Lebedov plays the notes of currency folded on the table, very gingerly. Ivanov gazes at them, very still, before crumbling to the stage weeping. It is in this moment that Branagh shines and that you finally feel for Ivanov. I think crying is the hardest thing to do on stage or in film. It's so hard to make it real. Lebedov awkward comfort and intense desire to leave and embarrassment for Ivanov is echoed by the audience.
Aside from Branagh and Lebedov (Kevin R. McNally), an outstanding performance was also turned in by Tom Hiddleston as Lvov. Lvov is the character you’d empathize with, if you were going to relate to anyone in the play. The genius of Hiddleston's portrayal must be that he makes you hate the very character that you should like. Supporting cast also deserve kudos for their drunk acting, who manage to be silly & fun without looking too exaggerated or "acterly."
Some favorite visuals:
- Ivanov on the ground weeping with Lebedov torn between attempting some sort of physical comfort and running.
- Ivanov distraught, running off stage before his wedding, to finally take action and shoot himself.
Chill Factor: Minimal, mostly only for the moments of great acting mentioned above
Breathing: Throughout, everything feels inevitable and since it's too difficult to care about the characters, it's easy to remember to breathe.
Overall impressions: Wonderful cast, strong production, lovely translation by Stoppard, but I either don't care for the overall interpretation, or I just despise Chekhov. I'll take Shakespeare any day. Branagh is compelling and at some point should begin to age properly and stop looking 30 when he's nearly 50. The cast is too good for the play.