THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
By Brian Friel after Ivan Turgenev
Donmar Warehouse, 41 Earlham Street, Seven Dials, London WC2H 9LX until October 3, 2026
You should go to this because of Brian Friel’s sparkling adaptation. First staged at the Gate in Dublin in 1992 it really is an exemplar in taking a formidable classic (in full it could run 4 hours), cutting it, and infusing it with dialogue of such wit, elegance, and psychological insight that totally illuminates it. Ivan Sergeyevich Turgenev’s play is an examination of 19th century upper class Russian romantic infatuation, and it rings just as true today on matters of the heart.
Wrongly dubbed Chekhovian, it predates Chekhov’s much-loved classics by over 40 years, yet so many familiar tropes and characters are all present. First performed in 1872, more than twenty years after it was completed, its innovation baffled audiences. It was misunderstood because it appeared to have ‘no plot’, the action instead residing in the internal emotion and secret turmoil of the characters – a theater of moods in other words. Ironically, it was the subsequent arrival of Chekhov’s plays which led to reassessment of Turgenev and between them they changed the face of European drama.
It has two superb roles for women, Natalya (Sophie Okonedo) and her 17-year-old ward Vera (Rachelle Diedericks), parts that embodied ‘female agency’ long before that term was coined and which are strikingly modern today.
Okonedo’s star presence is perfect for this bored but commanding wife and rich estate owner. But the typical jaded ennui of these characters isn’t enough for Natalya, because we need to understand what makes her tick. Okonedo delivers on this. A combination of haughty narcissism and middle-aged sexual frustration lead her to fall head over heels for Vera’s alluring young tutor, Belyayev. Patrick Gibson gives him an Irish accent, nailing the humble young man’s outsider status while adding to his allure. The problem is that Vera is equally smitten with him and Diedericks is wonderful as the fiercely intelligent, yet guileless, young woman whose heart is being cruelly broken by, effectively, her own parent.
As with Chekhov there is a large and motley cast of characters in this grand house: Rakitin (Alistair Petrie) is the typical superfluous aristo type character but he’s also Natalya’s confidante and admirer. There’s Arkady Islayev (Thomas Arnold) Natalya’s dull husband, engrossed in estate management and his canny mother Anna played with great relish by Susan Brown. There’s also Mark Hadfield as Herr Schaaf, a German tutor who murders English like Mrs Malaprop. Daniel Rigby shines too as the ebullient local doctor Shpigelsky who is smitten by the nervous ‘spinster’ Lizaveta (Amanda Wilkin) and then there’s Bolshintsov (Michael Hodgson) an old, uncouth, nouveau riche, landowner who Natalya, at her worst, considers a suitable prospect for Vera, or is it just to get her out of the way?
They all rush on and off (you wonder why they don’t seek more private quarters for their trysts) interrupting or overhearing each other, utterly self-absorbed in their mini dramas and director Lyndsey Turner, who does a great job at balancing the comic and tragic elements here, has to keep all these balls in the air.
Matters aren’t helped here though by Leslie Travers' overpowering set which features an overhang comprising a foliage-stuffed glass box which descends to hide scene changes. The stage is crammed with plants and fronds and even the interiors have the actors walking on rough grass – more paddock that manicured lawn, sadly. It literally impedes the actors, cramping their style and slowing the action on a piece that needs momentum. Another jarring aspect of the production is the use (thankfully limited) of audio voiceovers for inner monologues, again gilding the lily for a piece like this, where so much is communicated through the great nuance in Friel’s dialogue.
In all it’s a spirited attempt at this delicate tragicomic tangle of a play, which is now rarely staged but here is elevated by this superb ensemble and the wise decision to go back to Friel’s adaptation.
