Verdict: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5 (reviewed Friday 16 August).
Pembrokeshire, Wales. Circa 1982, the height of the Thatcher regime. A wealthy family face the prospect of losing everything they value – their house, their estate, their cherry orchard – home to all their precious and unrecapturable childhood memories.
Gary Owen’s play is inspired by Chekhov’s classic, placing it in a distinctive modern context, with themes that still resonate today. Redistribution of wealth is seen as a virtue, a moral imperative.
But Owen does more than just chastise and impose his own thoughts on generational wealth; he explores toxic relationships, delving into family trauma that sets a pattern for some pretty bad decisions.
The matriarch, Rainey, (Deborah Galanos) delivers a tour-de-force performance as a grieving widow, dependent on alcohol to swallow her grief. Her extravagant spending has cost the family their fortune, and now they must decide whether to sacrifice the precious cherry orchard to make way for council housing which will safeguard their future against any deficit. A sound plan on paper, or so it seems.
Jane Angharad plays her eldest daughter, Valerie, with antithetical resigned energy, an introverted, sensitive character who carries the scars of her trauma within. And therefore her dependency and trust in her sturdy boyfriend, Lewis, (played by Dorje Swallow) who will literally ‘fix’ everything makes perfect sense, even when those red flags start revealing themselves one by one.
Rainey’s younger daughter, Anya (played by Amelia Parsonson) is a university student in a casual relationship with her former tutor Ceri (played by James Smithers). Ceri also carries toxic traits, blaming Anya for her grief over family loss ‘when there are less fortunate others’ who would benefit from living on their property. But his words are merely hot air; he’s happy enough to be a layabout, a dole cheater, punching above his weight to reap the rewards that Anya can offer.
Uncle Gabe (Gabriel), Rainey’s brother, is played by Charles Mayer with boisterous, puppy-dog enthusiasm, revealing an arc of a wealthy man who too seeks companionship and is willing to ‘do his bit’ to save the family estate by ‘getting a real job’.
Rounding out the cast is Dottie (played by Talia Benatar) as the loyal housekeeper who wants nothing for herself when it all comes to an end, but is cruelly dismissed by Lewis as being superfluous to the estate’s running costs.
It’s interesting to note that reviews of this show praise Owen’s ability to construct a theme around social class and privilege, but on a personal level I feel the undertones of misogyny played stronger in this production. It is less a critique of social class warfare, and more of an exploration of how a toxic partner can undermine, use, abuse and manipulate the dynamics in a relationship to get what they want. For example, after a fair bit of ‘future faking’, (a classic narcissistic trait), Lewis distances his grandiose promises to Valerie, rendering her as merely a worker in his grand plan to take over the estate. The domineering presence of Lewis with his muddy boots on the furniture sets the scene on how the concept of ‘entitlement’ extends far beyond the desire to protect a beautiful family legacy. The conflict of sentimental vs monetary value, delivered in a tone of socialist sophistry, is a stronger theme here than the one suggested by critics. Who do we allow into our lives, and what do they really want from us?
Kudos to director Anthony Skuse for handling this complex narrative with admirable skill, a much-loved director in the theatre world who audiences discuss in intervals with shared affection: ‘That’s Anthony Skuse!!! Skuuuu-see!!!’
Set design by James Smithers is intimate and immediate, bringing us into the home and heart of a grieving family. The characters respond to their environment in dynamic ways, whether it’s picking up a rogue grape from the floor or placing a vase to catch the water dripping through the ceiling during an impromptu thunderstorm. Rainey’s lines as she enters the scene gives the situation fantastic dramatic irony. A pot of red jam is noted to be Uncle Gabe’s favourite condiment of choice. These individual gestures give realism and charm and theatrical autonomy to the actors. We smile at the runaway grape and laugh that ‘it will soon rain’, fully invested in the moments that are not rigidly tied to the script.
Costumes and accessories accentuate the personality and dignity of each character, and each piece they wear makes a statement in the scene (particularly Uncle Gabe’s dashing pinstripe suit, or Anya’s turquoise silk blouse).
We never see the cherry orchard, but its description is vivid in our imagination. Diction is mostly clear, with accent coaching by Linda Nichols-Gidley. The thunderstorm nearly threatened to drown out the entire performance (but thankfully it didn’t).
The Cherry Orchard, like many independent theatre productions, may not be on the scale of Hamilton, but has a currency that enriches you with a far, far greater reward.
The Cherry Orchard produced by Secret House is playing at The Old Fitz Theatre till 24 August. For tickets and showtimes, go to https://www.oldfitztheatre.com.au/the-cherry-orchard