La cerisaie

In his adaption of Anton Chekhov's play, The Cherry Orchard, Mihalis Kakogiannis shows a great deal of respect for the 19th century Russian play. In fact, Mihalis shows so much respect for it that he tried to have the film flow and seem very much like a play. Although the technique is an interesting way of trying to adapt a play to film, it ultimately leaves the audience wishing for less of a boisterous staged feel and more of a subtle real life feeling that film can so wonderfully produce. To Mihalis' misfortune the over animated and often over dramatized characters do more to take the audience out of the film than it does to push them into the story. Although the staged feel to The Cherry Orchard does make the film seem to drag on without the interest one would find in a lifelike representation of the events, there is several very significant themes that are important to Russian history that come across very nicely in the film.

One of the most interesting aspects of The Cherry Orchard is the way that we see the very different reactions to the emancipation of the serfs. If we look at the two "main" characters of the film, Madame Ranevskaya and Gayev, we see two people that are having a very hard time adjusting to the realities of the serfs being freed. They're not only in constant denial of the economic state of their estate but they are also oblivious to the possibility that former serfs are gaining both power and respect. If we look at how the film expresses the Raznichintzhe class, we see two different expressions. First we see Lopakhin that represents the emerging merchant class in Russian. Although Lopakhin was a former slave, by the end of the film we see that he wields the most respect and power through the active and hard work that he has done as a free citizen. Now on the other hand, Trofimov represents the Intelligentsia class that is emerging towards the later part of the 19th century. His nickname as the perpetual student gives away that he is not about working and doing business in a capitalist society, instead he talks of enacting greater change to help the uneducated freed serf class that now has a ton of freedom and not a whole lot to do with it. Now as Lopakhin showed one of the possibilities for freed serfs Firs showed another. Firs represents a relic of the past, a serf that was more content with being a serf and serving than being forgotten and left behind in the new society. Which is exactly what happens to firs at the end of the movie. Just like Firs, older serfs that could not enjoy the full expanse of their newfound freedom were in a way left behind by society. Although as a movie I believe that The Cherry Orchard could have been a little more intriguing had the director strayed further way from the play format, there are still many interesting aspects to the film that make it a enjoyable piece of Russian oriented cinema. Definitely, worth the watch if you have any interest in Russian life towards the end of the 19th century.

From the previous reviews I gather that this is where the elite meet to bleat. I wish those who are so afflicted by nearly everything in this lovely film could spell a bit better. I have seen several stage versions of this play, and I have read the play, so I was prepared to see the film. I agree with whoever it was who said it would appeal best to those who had seen or read the play and that is true. Not every film is for the popcorn crowd. I loved the atmosphere and that is something you cannot get in a stage play. How can acres of cherry trees in blossom be offensive to anyone? That falling-down hunting lodge seemed just right for that decaying family. The costumes were beautiful. There is not a single character in the story whom anyone could actually like, it's true, but by the end of the story you have been told so many things about them, if you pay attention, you can believe in them, which is better at times than merely being able to 'like' them. I believe Chekhov would have approved it.

How should one live? This is the fundamental question in most of Chekhov's works. Here it's openly exposed and discussed. Should the declining aristocratic family attach themselves to the possession of their cherry orchard (a symbolic representative of the grand ornaments of the Russian aristocracy) or should they give in to modern commercialization in order to survive? What is the value of tradition and how many trees should each one os us have? Chekhov does not answer. But he formulates the questions in the most fascinating way. In addition to scholarly speeches about such fundamental dilemmas, the author also takes pleasure in a witty verve, offering us a 'veduta' of high culture and life in style in 19th century Russia. But, as the critic Pierce Inverarity summed up, this is not just a typical nineteenth-century play; its potential topics, questions and answers are relevant to any individual dealing with society and history, anywhere and anytime. However, as universal and moving as it can be on stage, Chekhov's play isn't the stuff of a great movie -- there's simply nothing filmic about it.

Chekhov's plays have generally resisted film and TV adaptations: Sidney Lumet's "Sea Gull" was lumpy and not well cast, and even the Russian film adaptations have been turgid affairs.

Michael Cacoyannis' version of "The Cherry Orchard" (originally titled "Varya" after one of the main characters), is better than Lumet's film largely because it's better acted in general. But the direction is sometimes fussy, sometimes leaden - the pacing becomes more and more turgid as the film progresses. The final 40 minutes or so become very tedious. Plus there's an unnecessary prologue in Paris - an obvious attempt to open up the play, but it goes on much too long.

Charlotte Rampling does very well as Madame Ranyevskaya, a near-penniless aristocrat who returns to her family estate as it is about to be auctioned after a default on the mortgage. Rampling clearly shows us a aging woman who is spoiled, charming, childish, delusional, sometimes haughty and condescending, and feckless - a person who never learned how to manage money because she never felt she had to. Her performance makes this woman less conventionally sympathetic than others in the role - which is fine. There are times when her performance is undercut by some jarring editing where her mood swings from one extreme to another.

The rest of the cast is quite fine: Alan Bates as Ranyevskaya's equally feckless and lazy brother Gayev shows us the man who knows full well his coming fate, yet goes through fits of denial to coddle his sister and the others; Michael Gough as the increasingly senile family servant Fiers; Tushka Bergen as Ranyevskaya's daughter Anya.

The best acting comes from Katrin Cartlidge as the hapless, lovesick, foster daughter Varya, a soul sister to Sonia of Uncle Vanya; and Owen Teale (who was superb with Janet McTeer onstage in "A Doll's House") as Lopahin, a former peasant whose family worked on Ranyevskaya's farm but who has now become a successful businessman. His efforts to convince the fading aristocrats to save themselves by selling the estate fall on deaf ears, so he decides on a different plan of action.

I would recommend seeing this only to people who are familiar with the play. First-timers would be better off seeking out a good stage production (lots of luck there) as Chekhov has always worked better there.

People leave rooms, enter rooms. Peep through windows. Hide behind doors. Everyone behaves as if they've just lost their best friend. It's all so melodramatic. There's a piano score by Tchaikovsky that plays relentlessly on the soundtrack so as to cue us to the perpetual state of melancholy. A real cheerless meandering stagey bore of a movie. Charlotte Rampling tries hard and Alan Bates looks like he wandered in from another movie.