A BEAUTIFULLY SHABBY,
STARKLY HUMAN TRIUMPH
From the moment the house opens, Shakespeare Theatre Company’s Uncle Vanya, directed by Simon Godwin and starring Hugh Bonneville, signals that this is no ordinary Chekhov. The “pre-show” is a quietly brilliant touch: actors drift onstage, greet the audience, lace up their boots, and half-slip into character as if the entire production had just rolled off a touring truck. Robert Brill‘s set, too, suggests something in flux—a raw, unvarnished space in transition, as if the countryside itself were barely holding together.
The cast of Uncle Vanya at Shakespeare Theatre Company
There’s something deeply charming—and telling—about this moment of arrival. It places us squarely in Chekhov’s world, where everyone seems to be waiting for a life that never quite materializes. The actors don’t appear as stars; they appear as workers, showing up for another night of boredom, longing, and dust.
Nancy Robinette and Craig Wallace
This stripped-down, tactile aesthetic continues through the staging. The transitions between scenes are underscored not just by a plaintive cello, but by the actors themselves performing the scene changes. Watching Equity actors move their own furniture might feel like a backstage glimpse, but here it reads as something more profound: a return to theatrical roots, a nod to smaller companies where everyone pitches in. It’s also a wry echo of the characters themselves, endlessly rearranging the furniture of their lives, hoping for transformation that never comes.
Hugh Bonneville as Uncle Vanya (center), Sharon Lockwood as Maríya Voinítskaya (Grandmaman),
Nancy Robinette as Marína Timoféevna (Nana), Melanie Field as Sófya Aleksándrovna (Sonya),
Tom Nelis as Aleksándr Serébryakov (Alexandre), and Ito Aghayere as Eléna Andréevna (Yelena)
At the center of it all is Mr. Bonneville, delightfully unrecognizable. Far from the polished gravitas of Downton Abbey or the warmth of Paddington, his Vanya is disheveled, insecure, and spectacularly frumpy. His opening moments—agonizing over a stain on his trousers just as the object of his tortured affection enters—are a masterclass in cringe. He’s pitiable and squirm-inducing in equal measure, flailing through a midlife collapse with all the grace of a man slowly losing the will to pretend. You sense that Bonneville is having a blast playing so far against type, and the discomfort he conjures lingers long after he leaves the stage.
Hugh Bonneville, John Benjamin Hickey, and Ito Aghayere
Conor McPherson’s translation crackles with colloquial immediacy. There are moments where the text feels pointedly modern—Vanya’s mother (Sharon Lockwood) musing about “agency,” for instance—but these updates rarely distract. Instead, they amplify the play’s timeless theme: the crushing dread of wasted potential and the yawning silence of a life unlived.
Melanie Field, Tom Nellis, and Hugh Bonneville
Amid all this gloom and inertia, one scene sparkles with rare joy: when Sonya (Melanie Field) and Yelena (Ito Aghayere), initially wary of each other, suddenly become fast friends. Their affection is tentative at first, but when Sonya confides in Yelena her secret, hopeless love for Astrov, something unlocks. In a world where emotional repression is the default, this moment of raw vulnerability and unexpected sisterhood is quietly thrilling. Then, Yelena—aching for something of her own—wants to play the piano. The professor (Tom Nelis), of course, says no.
And then they do it anyway.
Together, with laughter and defiance, they burst into the music. It’s a moment of joyous abandon, a quiet but powerful rebellion: two women saying screw the patriarchy, if only for a fleeting minute. The sheer exuberance of it—the relief, the freedom—is one of the play’s most cathartic moments.
Melanie Field, Hugh Bonneville, and Tom Nellis
Astrov (John Benjamin Hickey), the tree-loving doctor, is one of Chekhov’s most enigmatic characters, and in this production he’s equal parts eco-philosopher and tragic cad. His passion for conservation is stirring; his avoidance of intimacy is baffling. The performance walks a fine line between magnetic and maddening—a fitting embodiment of a man who’s more at ease with trees than people. The duality is both funny and sad, which feels just right.
Ito Aghayere, Hugh Bonneville, Melanie Field, Nancy Robinette, Tom Nellis
And then, just before the play begins to close its weary curtain, there’s a scene of such simple peace that it nearly steals the show. Nana (Nancy Robinette) and Waffles (Craig Wallace) sit side by side and contemplate the end of the drama—not just the end of Vanya’s despair, or Sonya’s aching optimism, but the departure of the professor and Yelena, and the return to their version of normal. They speak of breakfast at six, lunch at noon, and noodles. Glorious, comforting, predictable noodles. In a house wracked by emotional chaos, this conversation lands like a balm. It’s not resignation—it’s resilience. A gentle reminder that beyond all the longing and regret, someone still boils the water and feeds the household.
Melanie Field and Ito Aghyere
In fact, is it too much to say that Chekhov here feels a bit like Beckett? Both writers mine a kind of gallows humor—the absurdity of existence, the futility of effort, the fact that life grinds on, regardless. This Vanya makes the audience laugh at the void, not because it’s funny, but because what else can you do?
Melanie Field (Kevin Berne/Berkeley Rep)
And then there is Sonya. Played by Field with quiet, radiant strength, she anchors the production with her unwavering faith in a better tomorrow. Her final monologue is delivered not as a lofty promise, but as a gentle lullaby, and it lands with devastating simplicity. In a play where everyone talks of change but nobody changes, Sonya’s belief in peace beyond this life is the one thing that feels utterly true.
This Uncle Vanya is not flashy, and that’s its great power. It’s weary, stripped back, a little messy—and deeply human. The laughs come with winces, the heartbreak arrives gently, and by the end, you may not be sure whether to cry or clap. So you do both.
John Benjamin Hickey and Hugh Bonneville (Kevin Berne/Berkeley Rep)
unless indicated, photos by DJ Corey Photography
Uncle Vanya
Shakespeare Theatre Company
Harman Hall, 610 F Street NW, Washington, DC
in association with Berkeley Repertory Theatre
2 hours and 30 minutes, with one 15-minute intermission
ends on April 20, 2025
for tickets, visit STC
for more shows, visit Theatre in DC
