Chekhov, But Make It Therapy Speak
What happens when you take one of Chekhov’s earliest plays, a dark comedy about a man spiraling into depression, debt, and self-destruction, and give it a distinctly modern psychological vocabulary? The Real Ivanov, now playing at the Lynn F. Angelson Theater, reimagines the playwright’s 1887 tale of a man who can’t quite explain what’s wrong with him. Except this time, Ivanov has plenty to say about it. The question is whether Chekhov is better off when some things are left unsaid.
Based on Anton Chekhov's play in four acts, Laura Strausfeld's The Real Ivanov gives Chekhov's dark comedy a revival at the Lynn F. Angelson Theater, condensed into 100 minutes. First performed in 1887 and revolving around titular character Nikolai Ivanov's descent into melancholy and despair, this adaptation analyzes how the characters around him intellectualize (and misunderstand) what's wrong with him.
Led by Sam Underwood in the title role, Strausfeld's retelling of Ivanov is performed in the round, much like his never-ending cycle of gloom. The theater proved a good venue for this, with exposed brick, handy recesses for entrances, and string lighting, though there were moments that were hard to see depending on where you were seated. The set was minimal, relying only on a few key pieces easily moved by the cast, and on the whole, I enjoyed the stripped-back nature of the piece. However, the beige-toned costumes felt unoriginal and, well... beige. There was some clever use of lighting and blocking that I thought enhanced several scenes, including the tight hallway at the wedding, and I especially appreciated the transitions that showed Ivanov's inner thoughts and feelings.
Underwood's performance as Ivanov, though commendable, was a bit one-note. It's a challenging role, but I would have loved to see more variation between his scenes. Ivanov's ailing wife, played by Ivory Aquino, has one of the better-written arcs of the play but was dreadfully miscast, and Aquino failed to get the audience on her side. Maybe he fell out of love with her because of her monotone voice and overacting... Elijah Guo's performance as the doctor is only worth mentioning for being woeful.
Spencer Aste's Pasha Lebedev was the standout. Consistently drunk but a kind, protective father, Aste's portrayal was entertaining, empathetic, and tipsy without falling into all the acting traps that so often accompany playing drunk. His performance was the most layered of the entire cast and also brought out some strong moments in fellow actor Jordan Lage as Ivanov's uncle. Sarah Long as Zinaida, Pasha's wife, was not given much to work with but shone anyway. Amelia Mason was also impressive as the smitten Sasha, the Lebedevs' daughter, who has been in love with Ivanov since childhood, giving a nuanced and believable performance.
Overall, the play seemed to be forcing 1880s issues through our current lens in a not-so-subtle way. Every single thing Ivanov felt was voiced out loud; there was nothing left to unravel or interpret, and this took away much of the theatrical experience. If Ivanov is no longer just experiencing it, feeling confused and helpless, but instead is self-aware enough to list everything wrong with him yet continues to refuse any help, why should we sit through an entire play watching? Chekhov was revolutionary for putting real voices onstage, but modern audiences need a character who undergoes real change. The Americanization of the text may have done a disservice here.
While I believe there is great value in addressing the issue of mental health, and it is indeed interesting when thrust into a setting where people simply did not understand these problems, a symptom of their time, this adaptation needed a little more clarity of direction to be truly groundbreaking. And the constant mispronunciation of Ivanov almost drove ME to despair.
The Real Ivanov is playing at the Lynn F. Angelson Theater until September 19.