Chekov’s “Three Sisters” is a tough nut to crack. The characters talk and talk about how much they long for life and meaning, and much of the action takes place offstage.
Even with stars like Maggie Gyllenhaal and Peter Sarsgaard — a compelling lure in a small theater’s close quarters — doing the talking, the Classic Stage Company’s wan revival renders idleness and boredom a bit too realistically.
“Three Sisters” has a beautiful, poetic wistfulness, and its subtle humor is sometimes gently melancholic, sometimes tinged with bitter irony. But director Austin Pendleton never gets the tone right, and too often frustrated restlessness is rendered as mere lethargy.
Gyllenhaal and stage faves Jessica Hecht and Juliet Rylance play the Prozorov siblings, stifled by their provincial routine. They left Moscow 11 years ago but still miss it daily. For Rylance’s Irina, the youngest of the three, the big city’s lure is like a persistent physical ache, while Hecht’s Olga, the eldest, is aggravated by her teaching job at the local high school.
Gyllenhaal’s artistically inclined Masha is only 25, but she’s been married to the older Kulygin (Paul Lazar) for seven years. When the visiting Col. Vershinin (Sarsgaard, a snooze) starts philosophizing, she falls for his affable soulfulness.
The sisters are emotionally and physically close: They constantly hug and kiss, and the actresses communicate lovely warmth toward each other. Yet there’s no spirit — these women are not just mopey, they look like they’re half-dying of anemia.
At least Josh Hamilton infuses their brother, Andrey, with a painful pathos, while Marin Ireland is a vortex of fidgety energy as the noxious Natasha — the only one who, for better or worse, goes for what she wants. Ireland flirts with caricature, but she also stands in welcome contrast to the others’ muted palettes.
Lazar is one of the few who finds the gently humorous undercurrent in his part, a cuckold whose genuine kindness is tinged with pathetic, craven need.
By the end of the play, things have changed in slight increments, decisions are finally made. “Life isn’t over yet,” Olga points out. “We’ll go on living.”
And we’ll go on waiting for a good production of this tricky play.
elisabeth.vincentelli
@nypost.com