It really, really helps to be familiar with Uncle Vanya in order to savor Andrew Scott’s remarkable solo performance in Simon Stephens’ new version of the play. Ticket-buyers drawn to see the actor in Vanya simply on the basis of Scott’s film (1917) and television (Ripley) repute may find themselves a bit lost at times should they attend the event unaware of Anton Chekhov’s 1897 study of unrequited love in the country.
It is understandable for anyone other than dramatic literature majors to go adrift, because Scott depicts all eight characters within a new adaptation of the Russian classic. Details on the characters page of the Playbill are scanty. Having met many an Uncle Vanya over the years, let’s confess there were a few murky moments for me during Vanya, which otherwise bowed brilliantly at the Lucille Lortel Theatre on Tuesday. Regardless, witnessing Scott’s excellence within the relative intimacy of a 299-seat playhouse is a treat. Just brush up a little on the play before going.
Adapting the text as four episodes performed in 100 intermission-free minutes, writer Simon Stephens trims away the Russian atmospherics but remains fairly faithful to the plot and people of Chekhov’s original, with the exception of making everybody Irish in their varying accents, if not their attitudes. They exist in a cellphone-less present day, circa late twentieth century, while the locale remains a large house on a farm in the boondocks.
[Read Melissa Rose Bernardo’s ★★★★☆ review here.]
The story develops over a month or so: Middle aged Ivan (sometimes called Vanya) manages his long-dead sister’s property, where he lives and works with his sweet but plain niece Sonia and his querulous mother Elizabeth. Staying for the summer are Sonia’s dad Alexander, a once-notable film director in declining reputation and health, and his lovely, much younger, second wife Helena. A frequent visitor is Michael, a semi-idealistic physician and noble soul who drinks too much. It becomes obvious that Sonia pines for the oblivious Michael, who is enamored of Helena, while Ivan as well is taken with her charms. This situation does not work out happily for anybody.
The actor creates all six characters, plus two other residents of that old country house. Scott makes his magic amid artfully lit, abstract environs enclosed by the nearly letterbox-shape proscenium of the Lortel stage. At the center looms a plain door and its frame. Behind that glimmers a long, horizontal expanse of mirror at times curtained off by dark drapes. One side of the space hosts a modest IKEA-type cupboard and sink, the other side features a black, upright piano, a mix of cheap chairs, a simple outdoor swing (to strike a Chekhovian note), and a table upon which sits a bottle of Smirnoff vodka.
A dark, compact figure casually clad in a silky green V-neck shirt, light gray pants and running shoes, Scott quietly walks onstage, acknowledges the applause with a smile, flips the house lights off and on and then off again, and so starts the show. Much of Vanya has been crafted by Stephens as conversations between two or three characters; later, several others are invoked during the drama’s climactic scene, which highlights Scott’s protean abilities as he alternates between them. Even so, fleeting moments arise when it’s hard to tell who’s speaking to whom. Visual emblems help to identify them. Elegant, disillusioned Dr. Michael bounces a yellow tennis ball with boredom. A soulful drudge-in-the-making, Sonia clutches a red and white dishcloth. Alexander, the fatuous has-been, sports a long scarf while his pretty wife Helena toys with a thin gold chain around her neck as she speaks. Others display their unique markers.
Beyond those props, Scott skillfully modulates his voice, posture and presence to persuasively delineate these individuals. The moments when Michael and Helena passionately embrace are a marvelous display of physicality. Scott’s interpretation of his characters are traditional except for his Ivan/Vanya. Sunglasses perched on his head, grandly flinging his arms about, chattering away like mad, Vanya initially appears so flamboyant a fellow that his yen for Helena seems academic. When Vanya’s mask as a clown later drops away, his desolation is profound.
The playwright, director Sam Yates, and scenic designer Rosanna Vize are credited along with the actor as co-creators of the production. Their fine contributions, plus James Farncombe’s shadowy and strategic lighting design, provide for a seamless staging that showcases Scott’s virtuosity. While Vanya ultimately turns out to be more about Andrew Scott’s performance than Anton Chekhov’s drama, it is unlikely that most spectators will mind.
Vanya opened March 18, 2025, at the Lucille Lortel Theatre and runs through May 11. Tickets and information: vanyaonstage.com
