Review: THREE SISTERS, Sam Wanamaker Playhouse

The Prozorov sisters are desperate for entertainment. Plagued by their dreary provincial life, they yearn for the lights and excitement of Moscow, but have to make do with the visiting soldiers. When their only brother marries, their sister-in-law isn’t exactly what they dreamed of. Her lacking sense of fashion and initial insecurity builds up to a sharp bossiness upon becoming Mrs Prozorov, leaving Olga, Masha, and Irina at the mercy of the new lady of the house. If you had to choose one work that represented what Chekhov brings to the table, it would be this.

Caroline Steinbeis leans into the restless boredom of Chekhov’s characters beautifully, making the first staging of this classic Russian drama on Shakespearean soil a quiet triumph in its thoroughly enjoyable comic slant.

A new translation by Rory Mullarkey introduces three utterly relatable women. He focuses on their relationship with the world and each other, lingering less on the affairs and frivolities of the household and more on Chekhov’s philosophical basis. Mullarkey keeps the mores distinctly 1890s Russia, but his adaptation appeals to contemporary sensibilities: Irina’s anti-labour rant sounds like something you hear on TikTok, as does the women’s romanticisation of the capital and what it represents. Olga suffers from eldest daughter syndrome and Masha is such a middle child. They’re charmingly modern in their period specificity.

The production toys with two gravitational forces, creating a thrilling push-and-pull between bleak nihilism and fiery hope for the future. One might think Chekhov to be all intense doom and gloom, but Steinbeis transforms the piece into an unlikely dramedy. It’s genuinely hahah-funny. Mullarkey’s dialogue is full of ironic contradictions, but it’s the rhythm of the direction that seals the deal with plenty of whimsically comedic moments delivered by a taut company.

Michelle Terry (Olga), Shannon Tarbet (Masha), and Ruby Thompson (Irina) are wholeheartedly wonderful. They establish their personalities before the show even starts, sitting, pacing, or gazing at the ceiling while the audience streams in. All solemn in their own way, they play Mullarkey’s idiosyncratic humour seriously, refusing to perform for laughs, delivering a sophisticated, multifaceted sisterly bond with all it includes. We’re made complicit in their inside jokes, just as we are in their listless sadness.

They’re not afraid to display emotion or dip into the heartache and desolation of their situation. They hold each other accountable with displays of affection and warmth. A final emotional scene ties everything together, with Terry giving us the whole dramatic arc of her household in one sentence right before the blackout. It’s splendid.

Stealing the scene with Aleksandr’s constant philosophising and recurrent mentions of his family whilst flirting with Masha, Paul Ready is a delight as he ambles between grim resignation and softness of heart. His nihilistic tendencies are matched by Peter Wight’s doctor, an imposing presence with a failing memory and wit to spare. Stuart Thompson’s Andrei starts off as what the kids would call “a big simp”. Easily swayed by Natalya’s convictions, he grows mean, snooty, and disillusioned. Nearing the end, he paces, cradling his baby with embitterment, fleeing from his duties.

Though her stage time isn’t as prominent as others’, Natalie Klamar endures the gradual villainising of her character with an increasingly sharp attitude. We might meet her with understanding at the beginning, but our empathy suddenly runs out when she’s rude to the family’s old nurse (Ishia Bennison). They top a strong, cohesive cast that succeeds in handling the ample collection of themes, adding enough comedy to the drama so that it maintains its aplomb and doesn’t turn into a full-blown sit-com. It’s a pitch-perfect accomplishment.

The candles of the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse lights Oli Townsend’s designs with a singular atmosphere, highlighting the gorgeous velvets, wools, and taffeta of the costumes. The stage is dressed in a light birch colour with flowers and string instruments dotted around, an effective use of such small space that places the text and acting front and centre. It’s a project that might divide the Chekhovian purists, but it certainly is an excellent first taste of the Russian playwright. It’s accessible and fun, in spite of the scary running time.

Three Sisters runs at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse until 19 April

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