Tag Archives: Katie Firth

CHEKHOV/TOLSTOY: LOVE STORIES

(photo by Maria Baranova)

Nicov (Alexander Sokovikov) argues with Lidia (Brittany Anikka Liu) over the social contract in The Artist (photo by Maria Baranova)

Theatre Four at Theatre Row
410 West 42nd St. between Ninth & Tenth Aves.
Through March 14, $35-$65
212-560-2183
minttheater.org
bfany.org

One of the city’s most reliably consistent companies, the Mint, scored successes with its initial two productions of works by British character actor, screenwriter, and playwright Miles Malleson, 2017’s Yours Unfaithfully and 2018’s Conflict. But it’s unable to pull off the hat trick with Chekhov/Tolstoy: Love Stories, a pair of Russian short stories Malleson adapted into plays that have been brought together for the first time, running at Theatre Row through March 14. The Artist, based on Anton Chekhov’s “An Artist’s Story,” published in the April 1896 issue of Russkaya Mysl, takes place in a Russian country house where painter Nicov (Alexander Sokovikov) is staying. After five weeks, he has finally found inspiration, primarily in eighteen-year-old Genya (Katie Firth), who lives on Monsieur Byelkurov’s (J. Paul Nicholas) estate with her older sister, teacher and activist Lidia (Brittany Anikka Liu), and their mother (Anna Lentz). While Genya and Nicov share a flirtation, Lidia and the artist battle over social issues.

“Let them have time to breathe, don’t let them spend all their lives at the stove, at the washtub, on the fields — slaving, slaving, slaving just to keep alive,” Nicov, who was portrayed by Malleson in the 1919 original, says of the working class. “Let them have time for the life of the spirit. The highest vocation of man is spiritual activity, spiritual effort — the perpetual search for truth and the meaning of life. And when a man has recognised that vocation he can only be satisfied by religion, by science, by philosophy, by art, by the great things — and nothing else. And then, and not till then, civilisation will mean freedom.” An angry Lidia responds, “These are the things people say when they want to justify their inaction.” Directed by Mint head Jonathan Bank (Unfaithfully Yours, Katie Roche), The Artist is like an unfinished painting, feeling more like a work in progress than a completed piece. It’s difficult to get involved in the trials and tribulations of these people; neither the characters nor the plot is particularly compelling. The Mint is renowned for their sets, but Roger Hanna’s design for the play consists merely of a canvas on an easel, some chairs and a table, and a painted backdrop of a large tree that overwhelms everything.

(photo by Maria Baranova)

Matryona (Katie Firth), Aniuska (Vinie Burrows), and Simon (J. Paul Nicholas) try to unravel the mystery of Michael (Malik Reed, center) in What Men Live By (photo by Maria Baranova)

The backdrop rotates to the threatening roots under the tree for Malleson’s adaptation of Leo Tolstoy’s 1885 short story “What Men Live By.” In a Russian peasant hut where expert shoemaker Simon (J. Paul Nicholas) works with his wife, Matryona (Katie Firth), and the elderly Aniuska (Vinie Burrows), Simon comes home one night with the mysterious Michael (Malik Reed), a shoeless beggar who doesn’t speak and rarely smiles, even after Matryona agrees to let him apprentice with Simon, who quickly discovers that Michael is an extremely talented artisan. When they receive a special order from a nobleman (Sokovikov), Simon sees it as an important opportunity, until Michael takes things in a different direction.

In her directorial debut, longtime Mint sound designer Jane Shaw can’t find the heart of the religious-tinged tale, which was originally produced in 1919 as an antidote to the horrors of WWI. The conflicts never feels urgent enough, with plot twists coming too fast to let the drama take hold. While The Artist moves too slowly, What Men Live By packs too much into too little time on its way to its not-necessarily-surprising final revelation. Both works end up underwhelming, as if still being cobbled together, which is a rarity for the highly professional, superbly efficient Mint.

A DAY BY THE SEA

(photo © 2016 Richard Termine)

N. C. Hunter’s A DAY BY THE SEA begins and ends in a family garden (photo © 2016 Richard Termine)

The Beckett Theatre at Theatre Row
410 West 42nd St. between Ninth & Tenth Aves.
Tuesday – Sunday through October 30, $57.50
minttheater.org
www.theatrerow.org

In a previously unpublished author’s note printed in the program for the Mint Theater’s first-ever New York revival of N. C. Hunter’s A Day by the Sea, the playwright discusses middle age, explaining, “It is late, but it is not too late. There is still time, at forty, to do what is still undone. To succeed, to change one’s mind, to shape one’s life anew — there is still time, but there is not very much. The mistakes from which one can recover in youth cannot be made now, truths can no longer be evaded, decisions no longer postponed.” He might have been referring to the characters in the play, but it could just as well have been about this nearly three-hour production itself, directed by Austin Pendleton at the Mint’s new home at the Beckett Theatre at Theatre Row. The first act is dreadfully dull, flat and lifeless, as Hunter’s Chekhovian story about lost opportunities searches for meaning, having trouble as it goes from its own infancy through adolescence and into adulthood. But it fortunately finds itself in the wonderful second and third acts, discovering its purpose in middle age, proving that the mistakes of youth can be overcome and that there is indeed still time left to do what is still undone. A Day by the Sea takes place in Dorset in 1953, as a once-prominent postcolonial family attempts to hang on despite growing problems as the changing world passes it by. Prodigal son Julian Anson (Julian Elfer), a classic stiff-upper-lip Brit who has traveled around the world working for the Foreign Office, has returned home briefly, but he’s not particularly happy about it. His widowed mother, Laura (Jill Tanner), has planned a picnic at the beach, but Julian is more concerned with international politics and a visit by his boss, Humphrey Caldwell (Sean Gormley). “A great character, your mother,” family solicitor William Gregson (Curzon Dobell) says. “Yes . . . I sometimes think she believes I selected my profession solely with the idea of annoying her. Every time I come home it’s the same story. For about ten minutes she seems pleased to see me, and after that she never stops making derogatory remarks about my work and interests,” Julian responds. “My mother, after all, is an educated adult citizen, and if such people are going to turn their backs on the contemporary scene, shuffle out of their responsibilities, content themselves with cultivating their gardens and then flaunt their own ignorance and indifference — what a prospect! What hope for the future!”

(photo © 2016 Richard Termine)

A picnic at the beach leads to discussions of age and what might have been in Mint Theater revival (photo © 2016 Richard Termine)

Serious-minded and judgmental, Julian is not happy that his childhood friend Frances Farrar (Katie Firth), whom his mother took in after her parents died, has been staying at the house with her two young children, Elinor (Kylie McVey) and Toby (Athan Sporek), who are cared for by their governess, Miss Mathieson (Polly McKie). Frances’s first husband was killed in the war, and her second husband recently committed suicide, so Julian, who perhaps was at one time destined to marry Frances himself, displays outward disgust at what he considers scandalous behavior. Also at the estate are David Anson (George Morfogen), Laura’s elderly and infirm brother-in-law, who does a lot of sleeping, and his doctor, Farley (Philip Goodwin), who does a lot of drinking. The first act, in the garden, is just plain dreary, but as the action moves to a seaside picnic for the second act (the lovely sets, a Mint tradition, are by Charles Morgan), things pick up dramatically, as the characters become better developed, the narrative hits its stride, and the actors evolve into their roles, like young adults adapting and adjusting to a more grown-up life.

(photo © 2016 Richard Termine)

A dysfunctional family explores its past, present, and future in A DAY BY THE SEA (photo © 2016 Richard Termine)

The compelling third act brings everything full circle, returning to the garden, where several of the characters must face their demons head-on. By now they all feel like old friends we have watched mature, with their unique quirks, and the set makes more sense, an outer frame within another frame, with a painting on the back wall in the same frame, as if we can now see and understand all of the details in this fascinating portrait. A Day by the Sea premiered in 1953 in London with Sir Ralph Richardson, Irene Worth, Sir Lewis Casson, Dame Sybil Thorndike, and Sir John Gielgud, who also directed the show; it made its Broadway debut two years later with Hume Cronyn and Jessica Tandy, directed by Sir Cedric Hardwicke, and inexplicably hasn’t been seen again until now. The Mint, which specializes in finding old plays that time has seemingly forgot, previously revived Hunter’s A Picture of Autumn in 2013, with Firth, Morfogen, and Tanner among the cast. The always delightful Morfogen first worked with Pendleton in 1960 and was the star of Pendleton’s 1995 play for the Mint, Uncle Bob, which was written specifically for the actor. “Does something happen soon? It’s pretty dull, this,” Morfogen says as David in the first act. Despite that slow start and the overtly Chekhovian familiarity of the story, A Day by the Sea grows into yet another triumph for this splendid company, which is settling in nicely in its new surroundings.