THE CHERRY ORCHARD
Chichester Festival Theatre, W.
Sussex
Opened 23 May, 2008
****
Of the dozen principal players in
Philip Franks’ Chekhov revival, the names of ten were familiar to me
either as long-established stalwarts or outright stars, and I missed an
eleventh which should have been. It hardly matters, then, that this
actor-turned-director offers what would otherwise be a solid but
unexceptional version of the piece (in Mike Poulton’s typically
playable version of the text). The casting makes it exceptional.
Diana Rigg’s Mme Ranevskaya at first struck me as oddly hollow, giving
little indication that she is truly experiencing the emotions she
claims. I now believe that this is a deliberate choice: Rigg is showing
a woman who has either forgotten or suppressed the ability to feel
genuinely, with the sole moment excepted when she hears of the sale of
her family estate. As Lopakhin, the self-made man who tries to advise
Ranevskaya but in the end feels compelled to buy the estate himself,
Michael Siberry is a slightly odd choice; a fine actor, but those
familiar with his usual resonant tones will find that the estuarial
accent he adopts here jars somewhat.
For the rest, there is little to do but namecheck. Ranevskaya’s brother
Gayev, with his behavioural tic of reciting imaginary billiard shots,
is a silver-maned William Gaunt. Frank Finlay is rather too dignified
to dodder as elderly valet Firs, whereas John Nettleton is every inch
the elderly, shabby-genteel scrounger as neighbour Simeonov-Pischik.
Simon Scardifield is excellent as the eternal student Trofimov; Maureen
Lipman plays governess Charlotta in a comic Russian accent and makes a
deliberately mediocre fist of her sleights-of-hand. Jemma Redgrave does
not get enough stage time to do more than sketch in the anguish of the
lonely Varya, still waiting for Lopakhin’s proposal after years (it is
a testimony to the production that, even after seeing so many
productions, I thought for a second or two that this time he might
actually get the words out); Paul Chahidi knows precisely how to pitch
the irritating clumsiness of the clerk Yepikhodov, and Natalie Cassidy
(Sonia from EastEnders) yelps
as her heart is trampled on by footman Yasha. There may not be a
profound sense of the passing of an entire social order, but certainly
an awareness that a stage cast such as this may not be assembled again
for an age to come.