‘Uncle Vanya’ speaks to the anguished nature of living

It is not often that a review begins with a description of the set design for a play. But the world of “Uncle Vanya” that Todd Rosenthal and lighting designer Keith Parham have created for director Robert Falls’ grand-scale production of the Anton Chekhov classic that is now at the Goodman Theatre is so evocative in its mix of the splendor of a certain way of life, and the decay that invariably eats away at all life, that it demands instant attention. You enter the theater, and you ache to live within its walls.

What you see is the central room in a formerly magnificent estate in the Russian countryside. Its elaborate molding is still in tact, but its peeling spearmint green paint, enormous crystal chandelier, heavy wood furniture and French doors that open onto a leafy orchard all reveal the ravages of time. And so, in various ways, do its inhabitants — most particularly the middle-aged and older men who see their lives and their possibilities slipping away from them in a multitude of ways. The women, not surprisingly, are a somewhat different story. But perhaps not.

Chekhov is the modernist Russian writer who, at the very end of the 19th century and start of the 20th century was (along with actor-director Konstantin Stanislavsky), instrumental in revolutionizing the theater with his naturalistic approach to how life should be “lived” on a stage. As “Vanya” demonstrates, he also was a master of conjuring a story in which everything happens and yet, in a sense, nothing terribly extraordinary happens as people are distracted and broken by thwarted loves, exhausted by petty arguments, despairing about missed opportunities, angry and fearful about growing old, and remorseful about leaving nothing of value behind by which future generations might remember them.

Adapted from a literal translation by Margarita Shalina and the original Russian text, the play has been subtly updated by contemporary playwright Annie Baker (“The Flick”). She certainly hasn’t reworked things the way Aaron Posner did in “Life Sucks,” the knowingly hip yet impressively faithful rendering of “Vanya.” Baker’s dialogue feels true to Chekhov with the possible exception of the often-repeated and oddly jarring use of the word “creep” (as in an unpleasant person).

The acting is solid, and at moments inspired, though not every scene erupts with the passion that must propel these characters as they try to seize their last chance at imagined happiness, or even modest contentment. And too often there are bits of dialogue that get mumbled or muffled, which can have a distancing effect.

The estate here s the property of Alexander Serebryakov (an aptly self-dramatizing David Darlow), a spoiled, pompous yet successful art history professor who lives in the city along with his beautiful and much younger second wife, Yelena (Kristen Bush) — a blonde beauty whose indolence, inaccessibility and elegant St. Petersburg style turn men into mush. The couple have recently arrived for a visit and brought nothing but chaos and misery to the household.

The estate, essentially a farm, has been overseen for decades by Serebryakov’s stepson, the hard-working, self-sacrificing Vanya (Tim Hopper, who deftly finesses his character’s volatile, self-lacerating nature), and by Vanya’s niece, Sonya (a carefully nuanced Caroline Neff), Serebryakov’s daughter from his first marriage. And they have dutifully supported the professor’s bourgeois lifestyle, being continually reminded of the man’s importance by Maria Visilyevna (the droll Marilyn Dodds Frank), his pseudo-intellectual mother who lives at the estate and views him as a demi-god.

The “outsider” here, though a long-time family friend, is Astrov (Marton Csokas, new to Chicago, in a measured but sometimes overly restrained turn). A doctor and ecologist who is a good century ahead of his time, he finds the only relief from his isolated rural existence is with this cultured family. Not surprisingly, both he and Vanya also are obsessed with Yelena, the unattainable goddess. Yelena treats Vanya like a brother, and while strongly attracted to the “strange” and “interesting” doctor, she is unable or unwilling to act on her feelings. At the same time, Sonya, the young woman with a beautiful soul but none of Yelena’s glamor, is beside herself with love for the doctor who values her kindness and decency but does not think of her as an object of desire.

Adding eccentricity and humor to the mix are Waffles (the ever masterful Larry Neumann Jr.), a now impoverished, pockmarked landowner who lives on the estate, and best of all, Nanny (Mary Ann Thebus, who easily steals the show with every line), a beloved peasant whose no-nonsense approach to life is a fine antidote to the endlessly bitter and self-pitying bourgeois intelligentsia around her.

Falls, who is celebrating his 30th anniversary as artistic director of the Goodman, doesn’t quite conjure the feverishness here that drove his brilliant 2010 production of Chekhov’s “The Seagull.” But he sees to it that we feel the heart as well as the spleen that propels all these people at their best and their worst. And of course a few shots of vodka do the rest.