A chilly cherry orchard

>> Theatre de L'Opsis continues Chekhov cycle

by AMY BARRATT

There are superficial resemblances between La Cerisaie, playing at Theatre du Nouveau Monde, and the acclaimed 1999 production Je suis une mouette! Non, ce n'est pas ca. They are both part of Theatre de L'Opsis' ongoing Chekhov cycle (Je suis une mouette, presented at Quat'Sous, was a deconstruction of The Seagull). Both have Opsis co-founder Serge Denoncourt in the director's chair; both feature actors Monique Miller, Annick Bergeron, Jean-Francois Casa-bonne and Suzanne Clement. Even the production teams on the two shows are remarkably similar.

Still, the final products are as different from one another as Theatre de Quat'Sous and Theatre du Nouveau Monde. The funky little Quat'Sous is the place to play around with a classic text. The matronly TNM is the place to play it straight--not that there's anything wrong with that.

There are infinite possible interpretations of The Cherry Orchard without changing so much as a comma. In terms of text and character analysis, Denoncourt and company have done their job. It's in reaching out across the proscenium and touching the audience that they've fallen short.

The Cherry Orchard is Chekhov's last play, completed shortly before his death in 1904 and it is a play on the brink. The characters know that their world is changing drastically. Some welcome the changes, most fear them. Some will eventually adapt to the new world, others won't. Along the way, Denoncourt hasn't allowed anyone--impoverished aristocracy or nouveau-riche businessman--to lapse into caricature.

Why then, was I not more moved by the production? Here's your answer: the production. It seems to go out of its way to push the audience away. There is nothing homey about the cold, white, looming set. The "nursery" in act one already looks abandoned: no pictures on the walls, a few stark pieces of furniture (white, white, white) that look as if they're just waiting to be moved onto a truck. The script clearly describes the orchard as being white with blossoms at the top of the play. But a projection onto the back wall in act one depicts bare branches.

Both costumes and decor get redder as the play goes on--presumably representing the cherry trees' progress from blossoms to fruit. Unfortunately all that whiteness up front is alienating.

Then there's the problem that locales aren't always clearly indicated. I had to check the script to know that act two takes place in "the open country" in an "old chapel long ago abandoned." With the white walls and doorways from act one still in place, it felt like we were still in the house, possibly out on a back porch. Consequently, when two characters started shtupping it seemed an inordinately daring act.

Mme. Miller as Lioubov is playing very much the same character she played in Mouette: self-centered, upper-class Russian lady with a trampy streak. She even gets to grope Casabonne again, although he is not actually playing her son this time around. Jacques Godin is touching as her upper class twit of a brother, Gaev, who apparently can't get in and out of his knee britches without the help of the faithful family servant, Firs (Benoit Girard). In the capable hands of Micheline Bernard, the obscure character of Charlotte, the governess, is particularly amusing.

Finally, bringing down the curtain for scene changes is an unwelcome homage to the age of Chekhov. :

La Cerisaie, to April 23 at Theatre du Nouveau Monde, 866-8668