‘Vanya’ Off Broadway Review: Andrew Scott Slices ‘n’ Dices a Chekhov Classic

Perhaps it’s too much to ask that a production tell a cogent story of a classic play when there’s only one actor playing nine characters and the usual running time has been cut almost in half. In other words, you’d better know your Chekhov before you see Andrew Scott in “Vanya,” which opened Tuesday at the Lucille Lortel Theatre after a run in London.

Simon Stephens’ adaptation here resembles a Cliffs Notes version of “Uncle Vanya” where several pages have been torn out, most of those featuring the title character now gone.

The first half of “Vanya” focuses on the love triangle of heiress Sofia pining away for the doctor Mikhail, who is in love with Alexandr’s young wife, Helena. (Stephens uses slightly more British names, and makes Alexandr a famous film director instead of a retired university professor.) Meanwhile, Ivan does little more than wear sunglasses.

The second half focuses on Alexandr trying to sell the estate out from under Ivan, who, no longer wearing sunglasses, experiences an emotional breakdown that leads to his trying to kill his former brother-in-law. Andrew Scott, as one would expect, makes a great and arrogant Alexandr. In the Netflix series “Ripley,” this actor flaunts a negative charisma, which is on full display here. He’s also daringly debauched and surprisingly sympathetic as the lovesick Mikhail. His Ivan, on the other hand, is merely louche, thanks to those sunglasses. When Ivan explodes late in the play, Scott turns hyper-theatrical, but all that glitzy emotion comes from nowhere.

Scott clearly relishes a few super-fast character switches. Especially fun is a tete-a-tete where Helena caresses a fraught Alexandr. And when Helena “interrogates” Mikhail about his interest (or not) in Sofia, Scott pulls off what could well be the hottest shirtless love scene ever staged with only one actor.

Sam Yates’ direction helps to signal the constant changing of characters by giving Ivan a pair of sunglasses, Sofia a red wash cloth, Helena a swing, etc. He messes things up considerably by having Scott carry around a little red recorder, which, at key moments, unleashes vintage pop tunes and canned sitcom laughter. His direction fails to help Scott much with the female portrayals. It’s as if the actor learned to play the opposite sex by watching Cliff Forman play Emory in the film version of “The Boys in the Band.”

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