Troupe's new spin helps audience fall for old tale
of love
By Ed Siegel, Globe Staff, 9/13/2002
hen Nicholas Martin
directs, there is one constant. Whether the material is musical comedy,
Irish tragedy, or postmodern black humor, the actors all seem to be having
a blast. And in most cases, that love of theater spreads to the audience.
(The ''Betty's Summer Vacation'' naysayers are the main exception.)
''A Month in the Country,'' the Huntington Theatre Company's season
opener, is a case in point. Ivan Turgenev's mid-19th-century play might
strike some as a bit creaky for 21st-century audiences. But between Brian
Friel's adaptation and Martin's direction, ''A Month in the Country'' is
as entertaining as ''A Night at the Opera'' or ''A Day at the Races.''
You could almost cast the Marx Brothers in many of the comic roles the
way it is played at the Huntington, starting with Groucho as the conniving
quack, Dr. Shpigelsky. Never mind Groucho, though. The hilarious
Jeremiah Kissel won't have you lusting for anyone but him as he bobs and
slouches his way through the Russian aristocracy, telling bad jokes and
searching for his own private Margaret Dumont (probably the first
and last time that Melinda Lopez will be mentioned in the same breath as
the Marx Brothers' foil).
Lest you be led astray, ''A Month in the Country'' is not Hollywood
farce. After all, this is Russian drama. Fun is fun, but when Russians
get together there are tears to be shed, scores to be settled, lives to
be compromised. ''A Month in the Country'' is an obvious, wistful precursor
to Chekhov, as almost all the characters are looking for love in places
where it's least likely to be requited. In large part the play is autobiographical
- Turgenev pined in vain for the opera star Pauline Viardot, wife of his
French translator.
His alter ego in the play, Michel Rakitin, hangs on Natalya Petrovna's
every word, determined to wait until platonic love becomes the other thing,
even though she has told him that a man who can't make her cry can't win
her love. Surrounding them are a bevy of characters who, for the most part,
cry after those who do not cry for them. Smiles of a summer night are seemingly
beyond their grasp.
''A Month in the Country,'' then, is a tender and smart meditation on
the nature of love. Must we follow our hearts? Or is the only answer to
the dilemmas of love using our heads as well? Shpigelsky and Anna Islayeva,
the family matriarch, are under no illusions about the limitations of love,
and they and the servants are, not coincidentally, the most satisfied with
their lives.
Although the Huntington casts each play individually, Martin seems to
have a roving repertory company consisting of New York and, significantly,
local favorites. Among the former, Jennifer Van Dyck (''Dead End,'' ''Hedda
Gabler'') is back in the lead role, showing in fine style how much Hedda
owes to Natalya.
Mark Setlock (''Fully Committed'') delightfully mangles the English
language as Herr Schaaf, the German tutor. (The accent could stand some
improvement, though, at least based on the performance at Wednesday's final
preview.)
''I go to apprehend the fish,'' the tutor says, to signify ''I'm going
fishing.''
Local actors who have caught Martin's eye, aside from Kissel and Lopez,
are Stacy Fischer, Barlow Adamson, and Alice Duffy, all of whom repay Martin's
faith. And making everyone look good are Martin's favorite designers. Alexander
Dodge fills both the curved drawing room and the gazebo (more directors
should use revolving stages) with curvaceous personalities who seem simultaneously
liberating and cloistered. The same could be said for Michael Krass's costumes.
All of this is suitable for a play in which love can set us free or
suffocate us, sometimes at the same moment. The aristocrats seem too locked
in to patterns of manipulation to free themselves, but Turgenev sees hope
in the middle and lower classes. And we can feel that hope: In Friel's
and Martin's hands, there is nothing turgid about Turgenev.
P lay in two acts adapted by Brian Friel from Ivan Turgenev.
Directed by Nicholas Martin. Sets, Alexander Dodge. Costumes, Michael
Krass. Lights, Jeff Croiter. Sound, Jerry Yager. Produced by Huntington
Theatre Company.
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hen Nicholas Martin
directs, there is one constant. Whether the material is musical comedy,
Irish tragedy, or postmodern black humor, the actors all seem to be having
a blast. And in most cases, that love of theater spreads to the audience.
(The ''Betty's Summer Vacation'' naysayers are the main exception.)
