Three Sisters review

Elsewhere in a strong ensemble, Michael Abubakar generates pathos as determined but doomed Tuzenbach, clinging to his modest ambitions and unrequited love, but never quite achieving what he wants.

Oli Townsend’s set is gorgeously Gothic, nailing the fading luxury of the family estate. Streaked whitewash may be peeling off the splintering planks of the stage, but fragile, sculpted golden trees still cling to the walls. Lavish sprays of artificial flowers add touches of delicate colour, while a floral display high above spells out Irina’s name, giving proceedings a more funereal than celebratory feel.

Composer Oliver Vibrans creates a sparse soundscape, performed live by the company. Actors sing bittersweet folk songs, idly strumming balalaikas or plinking with deliberate half-heartedness at a piano. The distant, bass rumble of an ageing boiler creeps in at key moments, reminding us of the slow decay eating away at the play’s world and the characters’ resolve.

Steinbeis’ bold staging pushes the possibilities of the intimate space, playing with the light in satisfyingly surprising ways. Candles are methodically snuffed out as the characters’ faint hopes fade, until we are left in near total darkness. Then, for the final scene – set outdoors in the estate’s grounds – the doors are flung wide, letting in cool, aqua-tinted artificial light. Figures move beyond the doorways: soldiers stride purposefully; Stuart Thompson’s befuddled elder brother Andrei paces, soothing his newborn baby. Gunshots and cheery military music drift in from somewhere outside the auditorium. Fittingly for the play’s themes, all the action seems to be taking place somewhere else, and the characters can only look on, helpless.