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ejreadswords 's review for:
Uncle Vanya
by Annie Baker
emotional
funny
hopeful
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
“I’m probably just as unhappy as you are, but I’m not giving in to despair. I… I endure my unhappiness and I will endure it until my life comes to its natural end. You have to endure it too.”
My. What is there to say, really? What you see is what you get! There’s not much subtext with Chekhov, no? That’s what I’ve learned in class and what I’ve surmised throughout my journey through art, film, plays. Oh yes, there was a gun! And yes, it was of course fired. It did not go how I thought it’d go, though!
“Look, in one hundred, two hundred years there will be people who look back and laugh at us because we lived our lives so foolishly and tastelessly.”
There have been many translations and versions of Uncle Vanya, but call me biased, I had to go with the Annie Baker version. This year’s Lincoln Center revival was Heidi Schreck’s version, which I’ve read sounds even more “contemporary” than Baker’s… but come on, 2012 modernity is modern enough for me. Annie Baker can translate the biggest of ideas with the most casual and simplest of English. It’s a magic trick.
Yes, I did imagine Steve Carell as Uncle Vanya and William Jackson Harper as Astrov.
“The past is gone, it was wasted on trivialities, and the present… God, the present is too ridiculous for words.”
These are characters speaking freely, openly (whether or not the people they’re talking to want to hear it) about their emotions, about the suffering of being alive, about the suffering of desire, about the suffering of not amounting to much. Of being on the cusp of death and feeling… unfulfilled! Fuck, man! That’s one of my biggest fears, if not THE BIGGEST!
“Man has been blessed with reason and creativity, but instead of progressing, he only knows how to ruin.”
The ending is quite bittersweet. A choice was made! Because if we don’t choose, we’re just fucking ourselves. But the choice that was made… it’s hard to tell if the characters can honestly follow that for the rest of their lives. We can delude ourselves all we want. But we need someone there with us. I feel for everyone in this play; no one gets what they want. But perhaps they each get what they need. Humans are complex creatures, no?
My Scene Study teacher Shawn said today that he can ‘appreciate’ Chekhov but he can’t say that he really ‘likes’ Chekhov. I’m not basing this off much, but I did absolutely devour Uncle Vanya — I read this all today, such an easy read. And yes, I did audition for Stella Adler with Stupid Fucking Bird, which is… sort of adapted from Chekhov’s The Seagull? This man is obsessed with art and the futility of being obsessed with art.
Fuck, man. You and me both! The emptiness that exists with unrequited love and the unfairness of this world that we’re in, and the necessity of art to satiate that emptiness, but then you realize that nothing can fill that void. Gotta read some more Chekhov, but I think I get it. And I think I love it! It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy!
“It’s so difficult for me. If you only knew how difficult it is!”
“What can we do? We have to live. We’ll live, Uncle Vanya. We’ll live through a long, long row of days and drawn-out evenings; we’ll endure the trials that fate sends us; we’ll work for others; and finally in our old age, having never known peace, when our hour comes, we’ll die. And from beyond the grave we’ll be able to look back and say that we suffered, that we wept, that we were bitter, and God will take pity on us, and you and I, Uncle, dear Uncle, we’ll see a radiant new life, beautiful, full of grace, and we’ll smile and look back tenderly at our past unhappiness. And we’ll rest. I believe this, Uncle, I believe in it passionately. We’ll rest!”
My. What is there to say, really? What you see is what you get! There’s not much subtext with Chekhov, no? That’s what I’ve learned in class and what I’ve surmised throughout my journey through art, film, plays. Oh yes, there was a gun! And yes, it was of course fired. It did not go how I thought it’d go, though!
“Look, in one hundred, two hundred years there will be people who look back and laugh at us because we lived our lives so foolishly and tastelessly.”
There have been many translations and versions of Uncle Vanya, but call me biased, I had to go with the Annie Baker version. This year’s Lincoln Center revival was Heidi Schreck’s version, which I’ve read sounds even more “contemporary” than Baker’s… but come on, 2012 modernity is modern enough for me. Annie Baker can translate the biggest of ideas with the most casual and simplest of English. It’s a magic trick.
Yes, I did imagine Steve Carell as Uncle Vanya and William Jackson Harper as Astrov.
“The past is gone, it was wasted on trivialities, and the present… God, the present is too ridiculous for words.”
These are characters speaking freely, openly (whether or not the people they’re talking to want to hear it) about their emotions, about the suffering of being alive, about the suffering of desire, about the suffering of not amounting to much. Of being on the cusp of death and feeling… unfulfilled! Fuck, man! That’s one of my biggest fears, if not THE BIGGEST!
“Man has been blessed with reason and creativity, but instead of progressing, he only knows how to ruin.”
The ending is quite bittersweet. A choice was made! Because if we don’t choose, we’re just fucking ourselves. But the choice that was made… it’s hard to tell if the characters can honestly follow that for the rest of their lives. We can delude ourselves all we want. But we need someone there with us. I feel for everyone in this play; no one gets what they want. But perhaps they each get what they need. Humans are complex creatures, no?
My Scene Study teacher Shawn said today that he can ‘appreciate’ Chekhov but he can’t say that he really ‘likes’ Chekhov. I’m not basing this off much, but I did absolutely devour Uncle Vanya — I read this all today, such an easy read. And yes, I did audition for Stella Adler with Stupid Fucking Bird, which is… sort of adapted from Chekhov’s The Seagull? This man is obsessed with art and the futility of being obsessed with art.
Fuck, man. You and me both! The emptiness that exists with unrequited love and the unfairness of this world that we’re in, and the necessity of art to satiate that emptiness, but then you realize that nothing can fill that void. Gotta read some more Chekhov, but I think I get it. And I think I love it! It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy!
“It’s so difficult for me. If you only knew how difficult it is!”
“What can we do? We have to live. We’ll live, Uncle Vanya. We’ll live through a long, long row of days and drawn-out evenings; we’ll endure the trials that fate sends us; we’ll work for others; and finally in our old age, having never known peace, when our hour comes, we’ll die. And from beyond the grave we’ll be able to look back and say that we suffered, that we wept, that we were bitter, and God will take pity on us, and you and I, Uncle, dear Uncle, we’ll see a radiant new life, beautiful, full of grace, and we’ll smile and look back tenderly at our past unhappiness. And we’ll rest. I believe this, Uncle, I believe in it passionately. We’ll rest!”