Take some little-known (in the West, at any rate) Chekhov farces. Add a good dollop of silent-film buffoonery and just a dash of both Brief Encounter and The Titfield Thunderbolt. Then serve with three actors, a bewildering selection of quick-change hats and jackets (not to mention a wig), and a vast heap of luggage – and you have Love on the Tracks
Michael Woodward’s direction keeps up the pace throughout, from the initial largely-mimed sequence through to the final lady-gets-her-man encounter. The set is simple, just three bentwood chairs, two screen which double as compartment dividers and domestic interiors and the various suitcases, not to mention the babushka’s basket (from which you almost expect her to produce a couple of live chickens) and the previously mentioned hats, which all-but assume characters in their own right.
A woman with a tale to tell, and an appetite to match, and the hapless men she buttonholes form the link between the different stories – it’s bit like Schnitzler’s Reigen (La Ronde) without the sex. It’s extremely well acted by all three players, who manage to blend just the right amount of “don’t take this all too seriously” with split-second timing to ensure that the audience is kept wondering what on earth could possibly happen next – and to whom. It’s a gorgeously lighthearted romp.