Review: Ivanov

Week 4 saw the long-awaited arrival of Lewis Harding’s and Neil Christy’s Ivanov. In this relatively new adaptation by Tom Stoppard, one of Chekhov’s less familiar plays is given fresh lease of life in a Barron Theatre that has rarely looked better.

Ivanov (Oli Clayton), a thirty-five-year old landowner, is languishing in self-pity, guilt and debt. Bored with the mediocrities he finds around him, he cannot even bring himself to treat his dying wife, Anna (Cara Mahoney), in a courteous manner. The question the play poses is this: can he redeem himself?

When he visits his creditors, the Lebedevs, Ivanov can do nothing but make more trouble for himself by becoming romantically involved with the youthful and beautiful Sasha (Caterina Giammarresi). Unable even to keep the in-house doctor (Lachlan Robertson) off his back, Ivanov has allowed life to back him into a corner that he can no longer fight his way out of.

The result is two hours of tragic-comedy that tries to give hope to a protagonist who doesn’t really deserve it.

To be frank, Nikolay Ivanov needs a kick up the arse. He mopes, doubts, idles and commits silly little acts of selfishness to the very end. Clayton’s Ivanov can be extremely frustrating to watch, since it is never clear whether he ought to be pitied or ridiculed. For this feat, the plaudits should be shared by Clayton and his fellow actors, without whom this production would have sagged.

In stark contrast to Ivanov’s inertia, Borkin (Frazer Hadfield) is an enigmatic and geezer-like estate manager. Meanwhile, Count Shabelsky (Arnie Birss) pumps out such a barrage of cynicism and tripe that it’s no wonder Ivanov has sunk into an impressive state of ennui. Nonetheless, you cannot but feel that Ivanov should just pull himself together.

He is not without allies. Chris Cannell’s well portrayed Lebedev is always there for Ivanov, offering financial assistance and – after Nikolay is widowed – his daughter’s hand in marriage. Even when Anna is still alive, Sasha sticks up to Ivanov whenever his name is dragged through the mire by the socialites.

In fact, Giammarresi’s Sasha is one of the few characters that is allowed to develop, as she goes from a naive romantic to a confused and angry fiancé. Like yours truly, her enthusiasm to see Ivanov redeem himself is finally worn down by his incredible capacity for unfathomable brooding.

Most of the other characters are condemned to cliché. Having spent the entire play with a (metaphorical) broomstick up his backside, Robertson’s moralising Lvov thoroughly deserved his bollocking by Sasha. Birss’ energetic Count Shabelsky is such a shambles that he never quite manages to be taken seriously. Will he, at the age of sixty-two, marry Emma Taylor’s widowed Babakina? Do we care? Clayton’s Ivanov casts such a dour shadow over everyone it doesn’t seem to really matter.

In terms of the technical side of the production, things went relatively smoothly. Some problems with lighting aside – I refer to the synchronisation between blowing out candles and the changing of the light – the play was allowed to progress without much awkwardness. Surprisingly, Peter Von Zahn’s Gabriel demonstrates that scene changes can actually be entertaining.

Ultimately, this is a solid production with a good cast. The tone and atmosphere works consistently, and credit must go to the production team.

Ivanov runs at the Barron Theatre until the 21^st of February at 7.30pm. Remaining tickets will be available on the door from 7pm. Tickets/£5

Copy consulted: Chekhov, Anton. Ivanov (trans. Stoppard). London: Faber and Faber, 2008