Few Chekhov-inspired shows make you laugh out loud, and repeatedly at that. In fact there’s probably just one such rare bird on the planet: Christopher Durang’s riotous “Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike.” Luckily for us it just opened on Broadway, after a recent run Off — and it’s the rare transfer where the show improved.
What’s changed? At first glance, nothing: Cast, director and set are repeats from the Lincoln Center stint last fall. And yet Nicholas Martin’s production has gotten noticeably better: It’s simultaneously sharper and smoother, and the one weak performance — that of Sigourney Weaver — has grown more nuanced and funnier.
As before, David Hyde Pierce and Kristine Nielsen play Vanya and Sonia, sad-sack, middle-aged siblings who share a bucolic Bucks County home (rendered by set designer David Korins with life-size accuracy).
A visit from their movie-star sister, Masha (Weaver), threatens to upend their quiet life.
Oh, those Chekhovian names? The trio’s late parents were college professors who dabbled in community theater. But Durang (“Beyond Therapy,” “Miss Witherspoon”) treads lightly, and the show’s a ton of fun even if you can’t tell your “Seagull” from your “Uncle Vanya.”
That’s because, aside from its bittersweet Russian undertones — paralyzed by inaction, Vanya and Sonia think they’ve missed out on life — this is the kind of full-on comedy that’s sadly rare on Broadway.
Durang pulls all the stops: one-liners and their matching outlandish reactions. Outrageous dress-up. Zany slapstick.
Much of the last is supplied by the irrepressible Billy Magnussen as Masha’s much younger boyfriend, Spike, a blissfully stupid stud who flirts with everybody.
“He’s so attractive,” sighs Nina (Genevieve Angelson), a young neighbor. “Except for his personality, of course.”
But the comic business only looks carefree: After months of doing this play, the actors are in total sync not only with each other, but with their roles.
Hyde Pierce and Nielsen make the most of their monologues — his a fierce tirade about how Vanya preferred the life of his youth; hers a heartbreaking phone call setting up a date — and their timing is flawless. Hyde Pierce is a master of the slow burn, while Nielsen’s wild-eyed Sonia often looks as if her train of thought has a loose caboose.
As their cleaning lady, Cassandra — a seer prone to seemingly random warnings — Shalita Grant has dialed down the kooky, but the award for most improved goes to Weaver.
Masha’s business is pretending, starting, of course, with her age: “I’m only 41,” she declares. “Possibly 42.”
This character has turned her life into a performance, but Weaver makes it clear that Masha is, in fact, a terrible actress who can’t convincingly fake anything. When poor Sonia upstages her at a costume party, there’s poetic justice in that reversal — not to mention richly earned laughs.