Displaying items by tag: stage classic

Anton Chekhov, a Russian playwright who was also a doctor, can claim a level of regard few writers achieve and maintain so long after their deaths.  Born in 1860, the same year the Republican Party nominated Abraham Lincoln for President, his plays are routinely produced on stages in America and around the world because of what they reveal about who we are.  That’s especially true for Chekhov’s Uncle Vanya, written in 1899, just a few years before the playwright died. Its popularity may be due to its mystery.  Is it about resilience or is it about failure?  Is it a comedy or a tragedy?  It’s the kind of work that leaves you with questions about not only its two main characters, Sonya and her Uncle Vanya, but also about us. 

A part of the city’s theater community since 2011, Astonrep Productions is a small Chicago company intent on “creating compelling and intimate experiences that challenge audiences”.  Their interpretation of Uncle Vanya that opened over the weekend at The Edge Off Broadway succeeds in doing so with some reservations. 

It’s the first American company to mount this commissioned 2024 Canadian adaptation of Chekhov’s classic.  Liisa Repo-Martell’s revamp of the play dutifully adheres to the structure, plot themes and character composition of the original.  But the play’s softer aspects, the features that define its essence and purpose, are less reliable and sure. 

Displeasure with self is one of first things we get a sense of when the play opens. But even before that awareness sets in, there’s a curiosity the audience notices while they’re selecting their seats before the play begins.  A man is slouched in an upholstered chair with one leg over its arm.  He’s at the back of the stage and asleep.  (We later learn he’s passed out drunk.)  Soon after and closer to us, a man and woman are talking.  They’re in the sprawling home of a rural Russian estate well over 100 years ago.  He’s Mikhail Astrov (Robert Tobin), the local doctor and she’s Marina, a housekeeper very ably played by Liz Cloud, who clearly possesses a warm motherly instinct and a sharp wit.   Astrov’s lamenting his fate as a country doctor.  It’s all tedium.  The people are gossip thirsty “savages”.  His life has no fulfillment.  He’s not married.  He’s not in love with anybody and his youth is behind him.  The demands of his work, a sour outlook and his liberties with vodka are catching up with him by slowly dismantling his good looks.

L-R: Robert Tobin, Natalie Hurdle. Photo by Paul Goyette.

By calling him a moron, the doctor’s antipathy for the sleeping man is made clear even before he wakes up.

As more people enter the story, we find ourselves in the middle of a family crisis.  Vanya, the man who was sleeping in the chair, and his niece Sonya (Natalie Hurdle) have been the caretakers of the estate since her mother died.  Sonya’s father, Alexandre (Geoff Isaac), is a professor in the city who’s been forced out of his university position and has now returned to the homestead.  He’d been relying on income from the estate to support his lifestyle in town.  He’s not returned alone.  Joining him is his much younger and very beautiful second wife, Yelena, with Andi Muriel in the role. Things are tense.  Alexandre’s pompous and obliviously demanding.  And Vanya, played with visceral intensity by Rian Jairell, is demonstrably resentful. 

An appeasing conflict avoider, Sonya’s loyalties are split between the natural draw a child has to her father and her uncle who’s labored with her to keep the estate viable at tremendous personal sacrifice to them both.  Now a young woman, she seems to know it’s Vanya who’s been more the nurturing father presence for her and that other than each other, the estate is all that either of them have.   

Additional strain is added with the presence of Yelena.  Her beauty is like an intoxicant for both Vanya and the dissatisfied doctor, Astrov.  They’re both brazen in their desire for her.  Watching them shamelessly try to seduce her is equal parts comic and piteous.

With so much instability, friction and doubt in the air, you’d expect to feel the charge of that energy engulfing the air.  Directed by Derek Bertelsen, it doesn’t arrive with any real intensity until the second act when Sonya’s father floats the idea of selling the estate. And that’s despite the considerable investments Jairell as Vanya had been contributing up to that point.  Because It’s so transparent Alexandre wants the money from the sale to fund his return to the city and his refined form of living, Vanya’s resentment turns to rage.  Finally filling the production with heat.

It dials up too when Sonya confesses her attraction, indeed love, for Astrov to Yelena.  Unrequited never looked so vulnerable and fragile.  

Part of Repo-Martell’s adaptation included revising the language to be more contemporary and ostensibly more approachable.  It works in an essential way.  Both Jeremiah Barr’s handsome set and Natalie Shoch’s costume designs are ambiguous enough to blur any specific time reference.  But in the back of your mind you know this is all happening in a very distant time and place.  One where duty and tradition held much more sway.  That difference can often be found in the words used to express and explain obligations and choices.  Here there’s a nagging sense that you may be missing important steppingstones.

In the end, things aren’t much different from where we found them in the beginning.  Except everyone is much more depleted.  Drained.  But still tasked with shouldering their disappointments and continuing with their lives.  In Chekhov’s original script, the word “rest” is used to represent that place of willful resignation that amounts to acceptance of one’s inevitable destiny.  In this adaptation, the word “peace” is substituted.  They say the same thing about something we’ve all experienced. When we’ve had to pull ourselves up out of the ashes and push forward.  Uncle Vanya brings that feeling front and center and offers understanding through catharsis.  That alone will keep it in heavy production for a few more centuries at least.

Uncle Vanya

Through July 5, 2026

Astonrep Productions

Venue:  The Edge Off Broadway

1133 W. Catalpa Avenue

Chicago, IL  60640

For more information or tickets:  https://www.astonrep.com

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com. 

MadKap Production’s A Streetcar Named Desire at Skokie Theatre offers a raw, riveting interpretation of Tennessee Williams’ masterpiece, immersing the audience in a world where beauty and brutality constantly collide. The production captures the oppressive heat and emotional volatility of New Orleans as Blanche DuBois arrives at her sister Stella’s modest home, clinging desperately to fading illusions while the truth she’s outrun begins to close in. Her fragile elegance crashes against the brute force of Stanley Kowalski, and the tension between them builds with an inevitability that’s both mesmerizing and terrifying. 

It’s a tension rooted not only in the room but in Blanche’s entire history. The story of a woman who stayed home to care for her parents as they died, then struggled to hold onto their home and land as medical expenses mounted and eventually forced her out into the world with “sixty‑one cents” in her purse, rings true today more than ever.

The intimacy of Skokie Theatre amplifies every emotional tremor, turning the cramped apartment setting into a pressure cooker where secrets, desires, and power struggles simmer just beneath the surface. Wonderfully directed by Wayne Mell, the staging leans into the play’s psychological depth, allowing the actors to explore the vulnerability, longing, and explosive conflict that define these characters. What emerges is a haunting, deeply felt production that honors Williams’ poetic language while making the story feel immediate and painfully human. A Streetcar Named Desire at Skokie Theatre is a resonant, beautifully acted experience that stays with you long after the final moment.

The cast delivers a richly textured, emotionally charged performance, anchored by Hailey Hance’s luminous and deeply vulnerable portrayal of Blanche DuBois. Hance navigates Blanche’s unraveling with remarkable nuance, shifting effortlessly between brittle charm, aching fragility, and flashes of desperate bravado. Elyna Mellen offers a beautifully steady counterpoint as Stella Kowalski, grounding the production with warmth and quiet strength as she’s pulled between the two people she loves most. Nathaniel Kohlmeier brings a fierce, narcissistic and unsettling magnetism to Stanley Kowalski, capturing both his brute force and the dangerous charisma that fuels every confrontation. Denis Vorobyev’s Mitch adds a welcome softness to the storm, his gentle sincerity and emotional honesty making his scenes with Blanche especially resonant.

The supporting ensemble brings texture and pulse to life in Elysian Fields, each performer adding a distinct spark to the world surrounding the Kowalskis. AJ Carchi and Wyatt DeLair charge their scenes with crisp, kinetic energy, while Neil Figuracion anchors his moments with a quiet, compelling weight. Kimmy Higginbotham and Dee Dee Logan offer nuanced, emotionally attuned work that enriches the production’s blend of tenderness, tension, and volatility. Together, the ensemble shapes a world that feels immediate and deeply human - a living, breathing testament to the enduring force of Williams’ drama.

Ultimately, MadKap’s A Streetcar Named Desire at Skokie Theatre stands as a vivid, emotionally resonant interpretation of Williams’ classic - one that feels both faithful to the text and urgently alive. The production’s intimate scale, paired with a cast willing to dig deep into the play’s bruised hearts and volatile tensions, creates an experience that lingers long after the final scene.

A Streetcar Named Desire runs through April 26th, and it’s a compelling, beautifully crafted revival well worth experiencing before the run comes to a close.

Highly Recommended.

For tickets and/or more show information, click here.

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com.