The axiom that sequels are rarely equals proves true of Brian Friel’s hour-long coda to two Chekhov plays, written in 2002.
Here Andrey, the brother of The Three Sisters, meets Sonya, the niece of Uncle Vanya, in a Moscow café. Communing over tea laced with vodka, they uncover thwarted lives that got substantially worse after the curtain fell on the stories previously allotted to them.
Having translated Chekhov, Friel knows the rhythm of his writing, and brings his own poetic delicacy to the dialogue. But you do keep asking yourself: why did he bother? Continuing and interweaving these strands from two stories throws no real light back on the originals. And hauling two tragic characters back on stage to live out further misery feels oddly cruel.
Anyway, this revival is atmospherically done by director John Haidar, with Mariah Gale and Rory Keenan both exhibiting early, awkward buoyancy before relapsing into quiet despair.
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Sonya is the more honest, while Andrey still clings to a muted form of masculine bravado: the play hinges on the lies we tell others, and ourselves. Gradually, we learn the fates of Sonya’s beloved Dr Astrov, and Andrey’s sister Masha and ghastly son Bobik.
Trees and forests are an enduring symbol in Chekhov’s plays, and designer Lucy Osborne here supplies a gorgeous, foreshortened set of glass and mirrors, focusing on a single bare tree in snow. It’s an apt metaphor for each character, but also for this odd, hybrid offshoot of a play.
