Anna Karenina, Bristol Old Vic Livestream
Vividly bringing the epic novel to life, whilst feeling like it recycled much of the set of the NT’s recent production of Phaedra, Anna Karenina burst onto the stage and clutched the heart and attention of the audience throughout. Although this is very much Russians on the verge of a nervous breakdown…and flawed in parts of its vision.
What the production did well was capturing the various plots and sub-plots of the door-stopping novel, by having multiple conversations on stage at the same time and several characters observing each other as they speak and reflect. Very Virginia Woolf stream of consciousness! By stripping away the historical costume novel ‘feel’ whilst retaining enough of the late 19th century setting to keep us in the time of the novel’s writing, we were able to focus on the novel’s characters and heightened emotions and tangled relationships. It also gets the sense of social comment (approving or disapproving) by having Countess Betsey as part of trio — a bit like a social critiquing Greek chorus.
This is a society in which position and propriety matter, as does who you know and are known by. Reputation is everything. The weakness of the dramatisation is faith — it doesn’t take it seriously and has some quite post-modern statements coming out of their mouths at points. Yet as Simon Schama’s masterful books show, this really wasn’t the case — middle class and aristocratic Russians were searching for Old Russia (i.e. Orthodox faith and peasant past times, a rural idyll and authenticity).
A further weakness is Anna Karenina as mother — whilst she is torn between her social roles, she is fundamentally a good and caring mother in the novel. (Everyone says so). Here she’s gone too far into Charlotte Gilman Yellow Wallpaper territory with suggested mental health issues following near-death after the birth of her daughter and post-natal depression, almost implying her verging on becoming abusive, shouting at her crying baby daughter without questioning her actions or choices. In the novel much of her mental anguish comes from not being able to be a good mother and express herself as such, to be with her son, and in being legally separated — the loss of her social role as the loving mother of a son. Here she just wants to be self-fulfilled and socially accepted again and battles deep mental and emotional anguish. From this version I couldn’t work out why Anna continued to stay in her son’s life apart from as power play and need, and in a way to express herself fully against all the oppressive men and structures in her life, self-destructively. Why too did Karenin loathe his son to the point where he still had him in the house — surely he could have shipped him off to school a la Oliver Twist or Nicholas Nickelby? Therefore Karenin’s angry character from the beginning didn’t make sense nor his harshness — he too was almost abusive and coercive, a proto-rapist and emotional abuser. Whereas he really liked rules and social position, aspired to the poetic and was infact dull, married to a Romantic wife. (Intriguing the production does highlight the social impact of Anna’s public affair on Karenin socially — he loses promotional opportunities and influential friends and colleagues).
Stephen McCole is wonderful as Karenin, and yet his character is distorted into almost OCD compulsions — a dislike of dirt and disorder created by his son, the cracking of his knuckles to disturb his wife and repeatedly voicing his hatred towards his son (who sees as a failure). Yet he is described as a saint and is shown as being tender towards Anna when she nearly dies and to the daughter who isn’t biologically his at all, but (but he deludes himself that she is). The conversation with Vronsky as they wait to see whether Anna will live or die in child birth is gone, turning into a duel or threat of assisted suicide. And this is a further issue with the production — so much voice is given to the women that the men are shown as nearly silent, apart from when they are being useless, failing or tyrannical. Too much D H Lawrence, not enough Tolstoy or nuance — Karenin is wrongly stated as a politician, he’s government minister so more civil servant! (and in love with doing the right thing). He spends too much time bellowing tyrannically — he’s much more complex, though empty in the novel. Thankfully real life Stephen McCole is the kindest cast member to the young boy playing his son at the end — really looking out for him and showing that he is nothing like the Karenin on stage.
What it does do exceptionally well is style — the production is dominated by the roar of an oncoming train. The characters whirl around socially amidst a laden table and a steam train funnel which doubles as a perilous looking chandelier. The conversation with Levin and Stiva is beautifully done as they discuss Stiva’s disastrously failing marriage and segway neatly into the ice skating scene as Levin meets, falls in love with and embarrassingly encounters Kitty. We really see Levin’s social awkwardness and Kitty’s vivacity — ofcourse Stiva and Dolly can’t divorce, she’ll lose her chance of a ball! Characters words become visualised, acted out thoughts as suddenly everyone is ice skating (!) and then they all grab a chair which suggests dance, and weave in and out of each other’s lives. Kitty is a glow until she is upstaged by simply dressed Anna. Anna has already encountered Vronsky in that left over from Phaedra box with metal bars, glassed in and like a snow globe as they gaze at each other. The impact is extraordinarily effective. Anna even bursts into Stiva’s home with snow flakes still in her hair. Levin and Kitty’s marriage is pure Old Russian style and works really well as does the use of Silver Cross baby carriages for the various babies. Re-using the Phaedra-style glass/metal box garden for a field of wheat scene also works brilliantly for Levin and Kitty in the country. When Anna and Vronsky are in about to launch into full affair mode we also see a whirl of chairs come into play as they move closer and closer to tete-a-tete. Another Phaedra moment is when the glass metal columned box is filled with blood soaked snow and then we see an equally white, blood soaked Anna giving birth and facing post-partum imminent death.
Vronsky’s mother (whom Anna meets on her train journey to help Steve and Dolly) and the silent horde of servants and nursemaids have been sacrificed in favour of a smaller cast who play multiple parts. This loses something as the men interact directly with their babies, pushing prams. In the play Karenin directly interacts with his son, harshly and disparagingly — in the novel so much is done through the servants and nurses/nursemaids enabling or blocking access and care. His son is looked after, though he mourns his mother. (We see Anna and her son dressed as a bear romping together at the beginning — these joyful times are quickly forgotten).
However, another strength is in ramping up Dolly’s voice and in characterising Frou- Frou the horse in Vronsky’s disastrous race. Dolly is normally a cypher in the novel — a bit of a stepping stone to allow the other characters and their stories to develop. Here she is properly sweary and furious and an angry aggrieved wife. Stiva is charmingly played, but in helping a stagehand move a table goes back to his old flirtatious ways and suffers for it ending in an empty marriage with Dolly. Dolly’s voice is just as strong as Anna’s and her and Anna’s attempts to resolve marriage difficulties are contrasted. Vronsky’s race is shown with Frou Frou as a 19th century hunter and as the other characters circle them intensely, we get a sense of his love of adventure and romance, his love of his horse and winning and Anna’s attraction to this gallant officer.
Graphically Anna’s relationship with her husband is contrasted with her desire for Vronsky, and without doing very much, sensually and sexually suggest their erotic attraction to each other — almost dancing. Rejected Kitty is almost mad with illness before comically encountering Levin, discussing her experiences in German, he speaks German back terribly and they are reconciled. What we lose is Levin’s expression of faith at the end, and Kitty’s shock over who Levin really is (when he reveals his flaws) is shown as him failing to deal with supporting his wife in childbirth, not wanting to be a father or support his wife with their new child and in having a temper tantrum at God for his own failures. Kitty is incredibly courageous, endlessly confronting Levin and speaking up against his own weaknesses and avoidance tactics, even confessing her desires for different relationships than the ones that Dolly and Anna have. Post-Vronsky Kitty is magnificent — Levin is behaving selfishly and eventually reconciles himself to his responsibilities to his wife and child. What is lost though is that these are all aristocratic people with servants — not nuclear households (and perhaps serf/former serf retainers).
The end of this version of Anna Karenina is a bit of a mess as Anna breaks down socially and mentally, rather than a good mother returning to see her son on his birthday, more a desperate woman with ‘baby brain’, who is heading towards deep mental breakdown. Anna survives death post-birth, stays with her unlovable husband who paradoxically loves his new daughter; eventually Anna leaves Karenin (and society) for Vronsky and her daughter, but is denied her son and motherhood. Karenin is shown as completely unloving and hateful, even ruining his son’s birthday with cruel comments (which just isn’t true in the novel). Essentially Anna and Karenin’s son has become an emotionally abused child and very, very neglected — he clutches at evidence of his mother and he observes the adult battles, including Karenin weeping furiously after Anna and her daughter have gone.
Vronsky feels useless in his bucolic new family and wants something to do — he’s never allowed to fully give voice to this as it’s all about Anna’s voice and Anna’s feelings (and he’s made to look feeble and weak, bored, in wanting a job, a role, to be useful, here as ever never fully allowed to express himself). The difficulty and pain Anna has in returning to society alongside Vronsky is never shown apart from the social critic chorus commenting on her, Anna looking like a victim and making a sweary scene before being escorted away. The novel shows this much more deeply — it’s obvious here and Anna is more about wanting her position back, to stop being stifled at home, than feeling and blaming Vronsky and her daughter for her predicament. In the novel she is about emotions rushing out, sentimentality overcoming ‘good sense’ — just as Vronksy is also a Bryonic hero. It’s a clash of Romanticism vs Modernity and a much wider comment on who Russians want to be.
When Anna commits suicide it is tragic but much less tragic than in the novel where she realises too late that she’s made a mistake — here Anna shouts at her children and shouts at the men in her life, then apologies, as everyone steps away from her. We don’t see Karenin telling lies to his son and the servants about Anna being dead, hence he thinks she’s an angelic visitation when she does turn up — forgetting his birthday gifs in the rush. Nor (because Anna is so shouty generally in this version) do we get a sense of Anna’s deep isolation leading her to seek to isolation herself self-destructively, leading to her decision to ultimately self-destroy. Throughout she seems to blame the pregnancies and heartily reject Vronsky’s dreams of a new life and new family. If this were Dolly speaking (who has many, many children and been betrayed by her husband with her children’s nurse by heavily pregnant) I could understand it, but Anna (although she had a terrible second birth experience) has led a charmed life and been able (with some obstacles to overcome) to do what she wanted. If Anna’s choices and losses were more powerfully portrayed here then we’d have more compassion for her overall — be more Jane Eyre!
Marriage, childbirth, pregnancy, children, men generally are despised in this production and adults at points verge on abusive, which isn’t part of the novel and the production has become more about a woman’s personal desire for freedom, rather than a woman wanting to have it all and the cruelty of the laws of the time. In a sense even Karenin is a victim of his own social mores. Everything is played very well — but it does miss some big points and lack depth in favour of shouting and swearing at points. Nevertheless it gives immense voice to Dolly and Kitty, makes us love Stiva and somehow to be less sympathetic than usual to Anna. Too much D H Lawrence here and not enough Tolstoy. When Anna faces death Karenin is unexpectedly tender — and even this comes through in the play.
In conclusion I do like the way that Vronksy observes Anna, as he talks about her, almost haunting her socially and in her thoughts and we show how (with Betsey’s connivance) he begins to challenge Anna’s status and security in being a respectable married woman and mother in the salons and in public. The moment when Anna feverishly grovels at Karenin’s feet and asks for forgiveness is incredibly moving and harrowing, and whilst it’s not in the novel, I did enjoy Dolly telling Stiva finally where to go and to stop taking her money (and his outrageous spluttering in response!) Stiva also had fantastic waistcoat and Russian winter fashion looks!
Kitty and Levin’s reconciliation is beautiful too, although how they get there is a bit naff and lacks the emotional and spiritual depth of the novel — whilst it does contrast with the social expectations of men and women in high society. Much less soul searching here. Instead Kitty is shown more as a jealous woman and Levin as a yet another feeble man, until she starts vigorously and decisively challenging Levin to step up to his parenting responsibilities. (Albeit in their reality they’d just hire a wet nurse and a nursemaid)… The contrast of reality and artificial here is more about personal expression than social rules, behaviours and expectations, perhaps a bit too contemporary…
@ June 2023 — Images are the author’s own used purely to illustrate the Bristol Old Vic production of Anna Karenina