Rimas Tuminas's "Uncle Vanya" — a Production That Works Even on Video

Cruel pain, living through it, and sometimes only the phantoms and inventions of it — that's what most often makes the strongest work. The important things seem to come out of an endless argument with yourself, and they have to be said out loud again and again, because holding all of it in isn't always possible. You need a fire exit, one you can run into by accident and go through slightly differently at least once.

To hear the gulls and, for a while, drown out the endless complaining about a better life that never quite comes — and it doesn't get easier for that; you have to keep fighting it and going forward, because you won't let yourself off, and there's no outrunning yourself. It all catches up sooner or later, and whether anything improves as a result is unclear.

One thing can be said for certain: you have to act. And if you haven't read Chekhov, read him once; it may work as well as anything from a pharmacy. Or go and watch Rimas Tuminas's "Uncle Vanya." It became a school classic long ago, and though the premiere was ten years back and some of the devices already look archaic, it still works.

Even on video, even with camerawork that isn't always the best, I hadn't expected to be in tears before the finale — that favourite, slightly unnerving feeling of catharsis, when for a couple of minutes between acts you come back to the ordinary world and feel an inexplicable shiver.

If you want something worth your time beyond Butusov, and another look at that mad Lithuanian who brought at least one astonishing actress to the stage in Zhenya Kregzhde, it's worth trying. And after that, who's going to keep insisting cinema beats theatre?