A twentieth century classic at the RSC, seen by Jessica Harris.
Set at the turn of the twentieth century, The Cherry Orchard is a play about the decline of the Russian aristocracy and the rise of the middle classes. Written by Anton Chekhov, the dissonance of its characters brings life to a complex narrative and gives depth to its many themes.
The first act of Tamara Harvey’s production is context and set up. Madame Ranyevskaya is returning from Paris to her Russian estate with her daughters, Anya and Varya. Lopakhin, a businessman, proposes that she cuts down the estate’s cherry orchard and builds summer houses to rent to holiday-makers, using the income to repay her debts.
Others, including family members, landowners, servants and private teachers play into this situation. The disconnect in their relationships feels real, and their concerns, each wrapped up in their own worlds, are fully credible. But the number of characters and the sheer amount of business going on is sometimes confusing.

The second act brings more focus, covering the way in which worlds are falling apart. As Ranyevskaya refuses to have the cherry trees chopped down, the estate goes to auction. Ironically, it is Lopakhin, a descendant of serfs, who buys it and who now lords over those who previously had authority over him.
Comedy and irony are both brilliantly played, driven by the characters’ self-absorption. Both Ranyesvskaya and her brother, Gaev, have a childlike quality, dealing only with the present and living lives that are based on impulse. Memories of how things once were (the cherry orchard itself is a relic of the past) and delusions of how things will be in the future are their props.
Others are driven by self-interest. Lopakhin, though grateful to Ranyesvskaya for past kindnesses, is ultimately keen to forget his memories of serfdom and to achieve the wealth that will enable this. Yasha, the young manservant, exploits housemaid Dunyasha’s love for him, and pursues only that which will benefit himself.
Of all, it is only Trofimov, a student and former tutor to the family, who sees the signs of the times and who understands the challenges that Russia faces. As he says to Anya, her family’s ownership of peasants in the past still weighs down on it.
Kenneth Branagh fully inhabits the part of Lopakhin. His shift from watchful observer of events to being their instigator, from joviality to anger, from drunken songster to bullying thug is superb. He is magnetic to the end.
Amongst other strong performances, Helen Hunt is impressive as the disconnected and frail Ranyevskaya. Michael Elwyn as the old manservant Firs is outstanding. Descending into senility, he can yet appreciate the fact that, having served all his life, he has got nothing in return. Left behind and forgotten at the end, his fate is an indictment of the society.
Soft melodic music that opens both acts reinforces the aversion to change. The set conveys the cherry orchard through trees and projections of blossom. Costumes are subdued, adorned here and there with decorative motifs which give a sense of the rural and of the past.
Resistance to change and a clinging to a vanishing social fabric pervade the piece. A production with many layers, it is as relevant today as it would have been when first performed.
The Cherry Orchard was directed by Tamara Harvey and the writer was Laura Wade. Set and costume designer was Anna Fleischle and the composer was Laura Rossi.
It is on at the RSC until 29 August. For further information see rsc.org.uk.
Photos (c) Johan Persson


