A new production of Anton Chekhov’s Uncle Vanya, which had been destined for the West End before Covid struck, was filmed at the Harold Pinter Theatre and is currently streaming on BBC iPlayer. Adapted by Conor McPherson, directed by Ian Rickson and starring the fabulously cast, Toby Jones, who plays a loveable, intelligent and heartbreaking incarnation of Vanya, Richard Armitage as the handsome and jaded idealist, Astrov, and Aimee Lou Wood, who will likely steal your heart, as Sonya.

For me, this production was very accessible and really allows you to ‘experience’ the material.

The adaptation, whilst being respectful of the source does much to create space within the piece, one could really hear the tension, the silence, and the yearning The strategic revisions and use of updated language were never too much, never gratuitous and always served to pack a punch or draw the audience much closer into the material and dramatic situation.

Chekhov’s notes of humour were played also, showing how we cling too rigidly to our own narratives and how our personal repetitions become annoying and a source of contention to our loved ones, usually hinting at much deeper resentment and much darker despair.

Again, in the true spirit of the play, Rickson’s direction never allows us to form quick or easy judgements of the characters, giving us the chance to understand and empathise with all the characters trapped in the hell of their own circumstances.

This was a solid, well-rounded production of Chekhov, full of compassion, hitting upon the pain of living, of failure, of regret, the pain of enduring, and of simply having to carry on.

It really showed me something of what Chekhov was trying to achieve with his work, and more often than not, this intent is often in the space between the words, in the control of the overall dramatic effect.

The rise and fall of the action, the sense that for all that changed with the arrival of the Professor, nothing really changed. The action of the play works as more a rupture, a disturbance in the heart or the soul, and things may end, but nothing really ends.