"Anna Karenina Komedy". Review by Anuj Mishra

How does one go about staging a thousand-page Russian novel? How does one make comedy out of a classic known for its heaviness? How does one stage it in the second week of Michaelmas?

Director James Hunter provides the answers to all the above in ‘Anna Karenina Komedy’. Immediately, and to be frank, paradoxically, stressing its confused genre identity, this production tinges Tolstoy’s classic – in which we read of Anna’s downfall as she indulges a love affair with the dashing Count Vronsky – with the dramatic aspects of panto and heavy bedroom comedy.

Anna (Martha Gathercole) was excellent in her performance as the adulterous wife and psychologically torn noblewoman, demonstrating remarkable skill in imbuing seriousness with comedy effortlessly. Gathercole also co-ordinated the costumes for the production, which, while school uniform-y in places (one character wore a scholar’s gown), was generally successful in achieving a ‘historical’ feel.

Anna’s love interest, Vronsky (Elliot Wood), was performed charmingly, in a sort of sleazy but hilarious way. He was also the only character to affect a Russian accent, perhaps an ironic critique of the Casanova, or maybe just some over-enthusiasm on his part. Whatever the motivation, it was funny to hear the play-off between a Russian-accented Vronsky, an RP-speaking Anna, and an American-accented Countess Vronsky (Sophia George).

The play weaved in many meta-theatrical references to Anna Karenina-the-novel (‘a doorstop’) and smatterings of internet vocabulary. The effect was a warped portrait of Imperial Russia straight out of a Christmas pantomime. This atmosphere was no doubt intensified by the play’s propensity to sway into melodrama at its most tense points, and its strong demarcation of ‘drama’ and ‘comedy’, signified by red lighting (for passion and anger, of course) and the repeating piano music which was interrupted whenever an especially clever gag was made.

In terms of its ‘Komedy’, the production was certainly a laugh a minute for its first half-an-hour or so. The play dealt a heavy serving of sex jokes, borderline misogynistic jokes, jokes playing off said misogyny, and slightly unsettling musical overtures of the Twilight soundtrack and Lana Del Rey’s cover of ‘The Other Woman’. In the second half, however, Hunter seemed to refrain from lacing much comedy into the main plot at all, instead – in true pantomime fashion – bundling it all into a set of scenes unrelated to the main narrative of Anna and Vronsky.

These scenes, while funny in parts, did slam the brakes on the dramatic locomotive, forcing it to an uncomfortable sluggishness. The performances of Emily White (Kitty & English Girl) and Cameron Maiklem (Stiva, Konstantin, Doctor, Raffaello – yes, four roles, each with an accompanying accent) were convincing, well-delivered, and funny. However, they were contorted into too many different parts with plotlines too patchily strung-together for their talents to shine as they ought to have.

These aspects seemed a tenuous directorial solution to the problem of superimposing comedy onto what is quite a tragic story. Their apparent randomness was, no doubt, the effect of condensing the best of a marathon-read into a couple hours of light entertainment. As Anna and Vronsky’s adulterous affair came to a boiling point, there simply wasn’t room for any humour beyond a couple of unexpected quips which momentarily dissipated any tension. This being said, a highlight was watching the Countess Vronsky (Sophia George) pounce upon Anna’s stiff, yet impotent, husband (James Fife) at the first chance.

The play – like the book – was a test of stamina, and even the strongest cast members seemed to be labouring to recall lines towards the end. Spoiler: A friend once said that by the end of Anna Karenina Tolstoy makes you think: ‘Won’t she just die already?’ Watching this dramatic adaptation, I felt the same pang of relief as our Anna stepped down onto the tracks and the train sound effects blared louder. Hunter certainly stays true to Tolstoy in that aspect.