The Acton Off-Broadway Theatre Review: The Cherry Orchard at Rutgers Presbyterian Church
By Acton
Time goes by so slowly for those who wait. Madonna’s time-bending 2005 hit Hung Up pulses through the room, stirring up nostalgia not only for that 20-year-old song, but also ABBA’s Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! from 1979. It’s a perfect hybrid anthem for Adult Film’s new production of Anton Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard (translator and adaptor John Christopher Jones, director Ryan Czerwonko), portraying a period of transition and upheaval through a kaleidoscopic blend of acting styles (and speeds), film, live video, dance and even (I think) painting.
Bon vivant Lubov (Megan Metrikin) and her billiards-obsessed brother Gaev (Simon Fortin) have assembled for the summer to enjoy their grand family estate as they always have, with a gaggle of relatives, friends and servants. The palace is rich with nostalgic childhood memories, and the vast cherry orchard is a source of national pride. Interrupting their reverie comes Lophakin (Ryan Czerwonko), a former serf whose head for business has propelled him to nouveau riche status. Lophakin reminds them that in a matter of days, the family home will be auctioned off to pay the mortgage. But he has a plan: if they act quickly to sell the cherry orchard (which he admits will be destroyed, the land developed for housing), they’ll save their home. But Lubov and Gaev are in no mood for decisive action, especially around a subject so common as money. Things always have a way of working out, don’t they?
The impending end of their little world brings out everyone’s survival instincts, or lack thereof. While Lubov and Gaev reminisce and drink, Lubov’s serious-minded daughter Varya (Lauren Guglielmello) worries about money, and her ambiguous relationship with Lophakin. They seem to have a past, and everyone assumes they’ll end up together, but time is running out for either of them to commit. Varya’s radiant young sister Anya (Raina Soman), under the influence of her tutor, the lifelong learner Trofimov, seems ready to embrace change and move on to a brighter future. Anya’s smiling, sad-eyed governess Carlotta (Josh Matteo) entertains the family with tarot card readings while plotting her next act. And family friend Pischik (Jay Geist) parties and relaxes while bemoaning his imminent bankruptcy.
From the jump, director Czerwonko and the excellent cast animate Chekhov’s classic with a mixed-media, kinetic approach recalling Baz Luhrmann films like “Moulin Rouge “and “The Great Gatsby“. There’s a filmed opening sequence, real-life slow motion, dance numbers, goofy sound effects, and live video from a home movie camera held by one of the characters. Like Madonna once said, ring ring ring goes the telephone—even if Lubov has apparently never used one.
Adult Film Productions always feel custom-built to the space they inhabit, and The Cherry Orchard, staged in an upstairs theater that wouldn’t be out of place in “Twin Peaks“, is no exception. Characters enter and exit from all directions, creating the impression of a vast estate with lives led beyond the proscenium. Our point of view is shifted as if watching a tracking shot as a baby grand piano glides from one corner of the room to the other. And is Lauren Guglielmello’s Varya serving John Singer Sargent’s Madame X, another woman at a turning point between the old guard and the new order?
The multimedia approach is put to particularly good use in the character of Firs, the aged manservant played by John Christopher Jones and who appears exclusively on film. Firs has the strongest attachment to the old aristocracy, and is abandoned at the end of the play, forgotten somewhere in the old house. It’s a haunting performance, made even more poignant by Jones’ death earlier this month.
Overall, though, this is a happy Cherry Orchard, generous with invention and humor, with its thumb on the scale for the opportunity and excitement that change can bring rather than nostalgic longing for what’s lost.
