Wild Honey

Is Wild Honey an Anton Chekhov play or a Michael Frayn play?

Well, it's obviously a hybrid in that Frayn has taken the teenage Russian's nameless play (sometimes known as Platonov after its main character), which would last over six hours if done in full, and distilled it into something lasting about two and a half hours.

But what you see on stage certainly looks and feels like Chekhov. The Chekhov of the early short farces combined with the Chekhov of the short stories more than the Chekhov of the mature plays perhaps, but Chekhov none the less.

There are pre-echoes of the later plays but as yet only in embryo form. Platonov himself could be an early Vanya. Anna Petrovna's closeness to losing her estate because of debts feels like a sketch for The Cherry Orchard. And with so many people on the point of leaving we are close to The Three Sisters' desire to return to Moscow.

John Durnin's fine, confident production soon creates a world of its own, at the core of which is the extraordinary figure of Platonov himself. He is failure writ large. He has a wife, a child, a job and a social position, that of the man you invite to your gatherings to see how outrageous he will be. He also has women falling at his feet, although he persists in being rude to them all.

Greg Powrie has the unenviable task of making us care for this loser and he does it without toning down the character's weaknesses. This comes through particularly strongly in the final scene when he is sunk in self-pity (and vodka); the black humour of his situation prevents it from being simply a wallow.

The women who fling themselves at him are all very well played, and you can sort of understand why they do it; for all his vacillations and rudeness, he is the only vaguely interesting male in the area.

Sarah Stanley is flighty and imperious as Anna Petrovna - she gets superbly drunk on vodka, too. Esther McAuley's Sofya may be newly married but when she sees her old college friend again, wedded bliss leaves in a hurry. Louisa Prosser is splendid as the uptight chemistry student who seemingly finds him repulsive but who really has the hots for him in a big way. And Claire Dargo really does get our sympathy for Sasha, who has the misfortune to be married to the man.

The other males of the area, ineffectual to a man, are brought nicely to life by the rest of the large cast. There's also a remarkably effective train effect that contributes to the final irony of the ending. This I think left some people bemused. It's the last shift of tone in a play which has many.

This very strong production doesn't reveal to us a long lost Chekhov masterpiece but it does give us a good chance to see just how well Michael Frayn has triumphed in making the intractable absorbing and enjoyable.