Chekhov’s ‘Uncle Vanya’ come to Kolkata

Anton Chekov is one of the most universally recognized playwrights in world theatre. ‘Bhanu’ is the Bengali adaptation and contemporisation of the original play first staged in 1899, two years after the Russian playwright’s play was published. The first staging of the play was directed by none other than Konstantin Stanislavky noted for founding the internal and emotional involvement of actors in the characters they were cast in.

Many performances of ‘Uncle Vanya’ have been staged over the past in Broadway, West End, Sydney Theatre Company and other theatres. But this is the first time Uncle Vanya is performed in Bengali - globally, spatially, culturally, geographically and historically distanced from the original play. The play is directed by Suman Mukhopadhyay, and produced jointly by Mukhomukhi and Tritiyo Sutro. Bhanu, the main character the play is named after, is performed by none other than the one and only Debshankar Haldar.

Bhanu is the brother of the first dead wife of Niladri (Biswajit Chakraborty) and is responsible for the upkeep and maintenance of the rich forests and lands that originally belonged to his dead sister, on the proceeds of which Niladri and his beautiful young second wife Ela (Anandarupa Chakraborty) live off in comfort in the city. Niladri is an arrogant old man who identifies himself as an intellectual professor which, as the play roles on, reveals him to be a self-centred hypocrite. His very young wife Ela, is bored with her old husband but also wearies of the extra attention paid to her both by Bhola and the local doctor Atanu (Suman Mukhopadhyay) who knows that Niladri’s daughter Sukanya (Bidipta Chakraborty) is in love with him but he does not love her back.  Bhola,Sukanya and the caretaker’s lives take a somersault when Niladri comes with his attractive young wife and declares that he wants to sell off the estate and live off the proceeds of the sale.

Bhanu is a timeless, universal play, no less resonant in contemporary Kolkata than when Chekhov first conceived its emotional world. Local theatre groups have astutely reimagined it with a Bengali identity, infusing it with present-day relevance. Though fundamentally serious, the production is laced with intelligent humour and satire, largely channelled through the long-serving caretaker.

Its characters are bound by quiet failure, personal and professional. Niladri, a chronic pretender, masks mediocrity with self-delusion. In contrast, Bhanu, though equally unsuccessful, is disarmingly honest, dutifully managing and handing over the proceeds of his late sister’s property to Niladri. The latter’s abrupt arrival, intent on selling the estate, detonates the fragile equilibrium of Bhanu, Sukanya, and the caretaker.

Bhanu has lived a life of unquestioning service, despite Sukanya - the daughter of Niladri and Bhanu’s deceased sister - being the rightful heir. Sukanya herself drifts in inertia, having neither married nor forged a path of her own. Atanu, another failure, is emotionally vacant, offering her nothing.

Ela alone stands apart, her youth and beauty matched by candour and quiet discontent. Trapped in a mismatched marriage, she is acutely aware of being desired more for her looks than her worth. Her music and tentative attempts to connect with Sukanya are tinged with melancholy, as Sukanya’s jealousy and the gaze of men like Bhanu and Atanu complicate any fragile bond between them.

Every actor is outstanding, their performances reflecting their dedication and hard work. Bidipta as Sukanya is brilliant and so are the other actors headed by Debsankar Haldar and Suman Mukhopadhyay as Atul, the failed doctor who spurns Sukanya’s love. Their flexible body language, the changes in the throw of dialogue springing from the pain within, are incredibly real.

The music looms large over the production, drawing from Rabindranath Tagore and Salil Chowdhury’s gana sangeet to Atul Prosad Sen, and is deftly orchestrated and choreographed by Prabudha Banerjee.

“The music, basically a leitmotif using violin, flute and accordion bring out the idiosyncrasies of the characters in a complex network of their needs, lust, aspirations, pretensions and finally their verisimilitudes. While the tune has a haunting quality with the use of chromatic note combinations, the waltz rhythm lends it the desired satire. The music is minimalistic and deliberately underplayed to give space to the characters, all of who are searching for their own foothold in life,” says Banerjee. 

Director Suman Mukhopadhyay says his aim was to dissolve the distance between then and now, between Chekhov’s world and our own. “I remain profoundly grateful to Chekhov who understood, perhaps better than anyone, that the longing to be useful, to be loved, to wrest meaning from the brief span of our lives, is universal. Through his stories and his plays, he reminds us again and again that ‘life is given to us only once.’”

(The writer is a noted film scholar. Views personal.)