This is a beautifully directed staging (by Lev Dodin).
Winter Sleep is not the cinematic masterpiece so many have been hailing it to be.
I do not remember disliking the characters in Anton Chekhov’s “The Seagull” as much as I did in this production.
“There is a struggle in love in the best of circumstances, and when on top of the daily challenges there are divisions of culture or society or simply of invented categories – well, that does make it all the harder.”
The Peterborough Players have put together a “Seagull” that floats elegantly on nineteenth-century Russian and twenty-first-century American wings, simultaneously bright and dark.
Bianco Amato is a marvel as Anton Chekov’s widow, Olga Knipper, who can turn her fake emotions on a ruble.
It should be pointed out that in London it is possible to see more shows in a limited time than one can do in the United States. Why? Because it has long been the sensible practice to stagger weekday matinees. By Caldwell Titcomb Shakespeare first, of course. The British quite rightly never tire of “Hamlet.” […]