The Cherry Orchard

The Cherry OrchardIt is said that The Cherry Orchard was intended to be a comedy. But after seeing the elegant, understated performance currently in production at the Brooklyn Academy of Music, I have to disagree.It’s not that this performance, directed by Sam Mendes, doesn’t have its funny moments. The carefully scripted comedy is well played by a cast of extremely talented actors. But what they are acting – the actual story by Chekhov – is too relevant, too familiar, and hits much too close to home to be truly funny. The audience can laugh at the jokes, and laugh they did, but after the moment had passed, a feeling of uncertainty and uneasiness lingered in the air. And it hadn’t ended by the time the performance had. The Cherry Orchard is about many things, but if it had be summed up in one word, it would be change, a word that has been used ceaselessly in American dialogue in the past few months. The word has been loved, savored, and most eagerly anticipated, but now that Barack Obama has taken office, the word is looked at a bit fearfully and with apprehension. It’s one thing to want change, but it’s another to experience it – and at what consequences and what cost?The looming changes in The Cherry Orchard are the same that America is approaching: economic, political and social, and this performance, by The Bridge Project, a collaboration of British and American theater artists, skillfully addresses those anxieties, depicting how timeless they truly are.Madame Ranevskaya (Sinead Cusack) is returning to her ancestral home after five years spent abroad. The estate, which includes a well-known cherry orchard, is about to be auctioned off to pay her family’s debts. Her brother, Gaev (Paul Jesson), is also aware of the financial problems, but the two brush them off lightly, saying they will work themselves out somehow. Lopakhin (brilliantly played by Simon Russell Beale), a family friend, informs them they can save their home by chopping down the cherry orchard and renting out summer homes, but Ranevskaya balks at the suggestion, horrified with the idea of destroying her favorite place from her childhood.Ranevskaya’s two daughters are also caught up in the midst of the family trouble: Anya (Morven Christie), who is in love with the family tutor Trofimov (Ethan Hawke) and Varya (Rebecca Hall), who was adopted by Ranevskaya and whose obvious attraction to Lopakhin has become a matter of discussion in family conversations. Anya declares herself ready to leave her past behind and face the inevitable changes in the future with Trofimov, and Varya longs to escape from her family and travel far away.The family speaks frankly of their financial troubles, which come up frequently in conversation, yet none except Lopakhin actually speak of the consequences of the troubles: unless they raise money, and quickly, they will be ruined. It is worth mentioning that Lopakhin, who is now a dear friend of the family, comes from a family of serfs, and has raised through the social and economic classes through his own industriousness, personifying the exact change that is looming in the future of the family. They are all aware of this change, yet no one except Trofimov actually names it. In an almost painfully earnest performance by Hawke, he gives a fiercely impassioned speech about the changing mentality of the nation and what lies in the future. It’s a shame that almost no one on stage listens to him.In a play so heavily laden with dialogue, the staging is crucial to maintain a sense of movement, and Mendes accomplishes it impressively, especially when, immediately following Trofimov’s speech, a line of serfs appear backstage and slowly move forward, foreshadowing an attack or revolution that the family appears to be blissfully unaware of.One has to wonder, however if The Cherry Orchard would pack such a powerful punch if America were not in the throes of its own economic crisis. How many Madame Ranevskyays are going over their checkbooks on Park Avenue right now, wondering where exactly all of her money went? How many Trofimovs are shaking their heads and fists over the Wall Street bailouts? It is thanks to a superbly talented cast that this play delivers such an emotional impact, especially Cusack’s Ranevskaya, who is a fluttery, charming, childlike woman, both sympathetic and infuriating at the same time. After listening to her talk carelessly about her family’s financial troubles, one cannot decide whether to hug her or shake her. As Lopakhin, Beale depicts a man so firm in his convictions and proud of his accomplishments, and so rooted in succeeding in the future, one wishes we had him in charge Congress right now. He is not a flawless protagonist, however, and one particularly tender scene with Varya is truly heartbreaking moment and a testament to both actors’ incredible skill.Despite all of its accomplishments, and there are many, The Cherry Orchard did not leave this critic feeling satisfied. Although every effort is made to ensure the audience is left with a note of wistful, haunting sadness, the lingering emotion is that of curiosity and puzzlement. The same could be said of many decisions taking place in Washington D.C.