By Michael Coveney
Tweet

Cheerio Chekhov in Belgrade

I have mixed feelings about Frank Castorf's undeniably interesting Berlin production of Chekhov's Three Sisters at the BITEF festival in Belgrade.

First, it's muddled in with a digested version of Chekhov's novella, The Peasants, in order to define more specifically the brutality and incestuousness of life in the remote provincial army barricade: the play is re-titled "To Moscow, To Moscow."

Secondly, it is acted by a cast of palpably brilliant artists, some of them very well known, in an aggressive style of unremitting hysteria, as if to make ironic play with their Teutonic orientation. (There's much sadistic erotic undertow, lots of shouting.)

Sixthly, and lastly, it makes some of the most ingenious use of onstage live video recording to interact with live performance that I've seen: and there's an overpowering sense of trans-generational Russian-ness about it all, despite the artistic impertinence.

But, oh, the galumphing attempts at humour, especially in the excruciating figure of the schoolmaster, speaking in hopelessly emphatic English, embarrassingly played by an actor who then sits down at the piano and plays brilliantly.

Soliony leers at the onstage video camera on the line about being a character in Lermontov, dragging his sweat-drenched locks across his face like some even more deranged version of Tiny Tim.

A German's sense of humour is about as reliable as an Irishman's sense of direction: all over the place. There's a moment when Andrei embraces Natalya in a rubber winding sheet: why, and is that supposed to be kinky, or funny, or what?

Inside domestic life at the Prozorovs  is a bestial nightmare, the soldiers joining in the garden shed sewer life like cattle in a sex orgy. Cheers to Chekhov, up yours, Anton!

I sat there thinking -- and I only stayed for the first half, which went on for two and a half hours -- thank God for the National Theatre, the RSC, the Donmar...

Ah, then, I can hear you say: stay home and read the text. Good point. The theatre should be a playground, a free school, a danger zone. And Castorf's cast-off Chekhov certainly ticks those boxes, big time.
  
The production was staged in the magnificent National Theatre on the city's main square. The last time I saw this very same play in the very same theatre was on the very same night, virtually, eleven years ago. That version came from the Ukraine and was infinitely superior. But not half so disgracefully entertaining.

That was also the night of President Milosevich's fateful defeat at the election polls, and I was literally swept through the crowded streets on the sort of wild, protesting, democratic fervour (but without guns) that David Cameron has just been applauding in Tripoli.

Why was it easier to associate the Ukrainian Chekhov with the liberal tendencies of that night than it was to associate German Chekhov with anything sad or optimistic about present day Belgrade? Because, at the end of the day, German Chekhov is soulless, decadent and reeking of ingrained moral putrefaction. Perhaps that's the point of it.

- by Michael Coveney

Any opinions expressed above do not represent the view of Whatsonstage.com nor any of its staff or contributors beyond the bylined author.

Related Content

Other Posts By Michael Coveney
	Michael Coveney: Big Apple bites and Manhattan memories - 22nd May 2013 blog
	Michael Coveney: New York honours Matilda with five big awards - 20th May 2013 blog
	Michael Coveney: Tales from New York in Kinky Boots - 17th May 2013 blog
	Michael Coveney: Finsbury hails its local Park Theatre opening - 15th May 2013 blog
	Michael Coveney: Hooray for Halifax and Carrie's ENO debut - 13th May 2013 blog
	Michael Coveney: All change at Trafalgar, Liverpool and Finsbury Park - 10th May 2013 blog
	Michael Coveney: Critics come full Circle in centenary bash - 8th May 2013 blog
	Michael Coveney: High old time with High Tide in Halesworth - 7th May 2013 blog
	Michael Coveney: Hytner steams on, Sondheim scintillates - 2nd May 2013 blog
	Michael Coveney: Theatre queens and Paris low-life - 30th Apr 2013 blog
	More...