An intricate snapshot highlighting the shifting boundaries of class in Russia and Eastern Europe at the turn of the twentieth century, Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard is equal parts tragedy and charming farce. Forced to return to Ukraine after losing her money during an extended trip to Europe, frivolous landowner Lubov Andreyevna Ranevsky is faced with the prospect of losing, not only her house, but also the treasured and extensive cherry orchard it overlooks. Directed by Dan Booth, The Studio Theatre Club’s performance of this classic play is reverently rendered in homage to the period in which Chekhov was writing. Every element is strong, with cast members interacting so well together, resulting in a cohesive and powerful production.

The colour palette of costumes and set pieces is muted. Delicate cream furnishings, sage green and peach silk gowns, silver lace, and brown wool jackets jostle with a goodly smattering of striped cotton, tweed, and the time-honoured smart, black attire of servants. Lighting is bright and open, notably when alluding to the luminous spring blossoms of the cherry orchard’s vast canopy. Sound effects are judiciously applied, remaining entirely connected to the action. Enjoyable examples include the on-stage strum of a ukelele and brief rendition of the melodic Tumbalalaika.

Anna Wilson takes to the stage as the unfortunate and financially inarticulate Madame Andreyevna, and is every bit as demanding, striking, and emotional as any person faced with the loss of her childhood home could be. All other characters are embroiled in her fate in one way or another, and Anna maintains the energy this role demands throughout.

Anya and Varya, Andreyevna’s daughters, are contrasting characters, but no less fond of each other for it. This relationship is perfectly portrayed by Kat Steiner and Francesca Richards respectively, the light innocence of Anya out of step with Varya’s world-weary endurance. Their uncle, Leonid Andreyevitch Gaev, swings between expansive bombast and surprisingly introspective mutterings with ease in the hands of Mike Macdonald.

Jamie Mortimer is fresh, clever, and romantically indifferent as the peasant turned wealthy merchant, Yermolai Alexeyevitch Lopakhin. He cuts an impressive figure in a smart tweed suit, brogues, and shiny cravat. Standing in contrast is Ben Winters as Petya Sergeyevitch Trofimov, the perpetual ageing student, a slightly bedraggled, whimsical figure who shares some particularly memorable moments with Anya and Andreyevna. Another landowner, who constantly chases Andreyevna for money and yet clearly cares for her deeply, is Boris Borisovitch Simeonov-Pischin. Ross McGookin admirably lends little touches to the character, with credible representations of tipsiness and unexpected warmth. Hamilton Brown takes on a few parts but is most notable as the unwelcome tramp who surprises our troop with his dishevelled appearance and unique turn of phrase.

Andreyevna’s staff feature heavily throughout the play. Firmly rooted in the past, elderly footman Fiers (Stephen Briggs) is melancholic, sentimental, and yet forthright. His distrust of the rapidly changing world, and advancing ill health is sensitively delivered. Jon Shepherd gives a spirited intensity to the unintentionally hilarious, unlucky clerk Simeon Panteleyevitch Epikhodov. The maidservant, Avdotya Fedorovna Dunyasha (Michelle Chew) is affably naïve and emotive, a far cry from the flamboyant hysteria of the governess, Charlotta Ivanovna. Debs Bonthron carries this role with pervasive peculiarity. Charlie Vicary acts as the insincere young footman, Yasha who longs to get away from Ukraine. He is simultaneously playful, mean and contemplative, contributing levity to the performance.

Studio Theatre Club’s take on The Cherry Orchard is an absorbing slice of life, offering an irresistible peek into the changing social structure of a bygone age. This is a rare opportunity to see a skilled local society perform one of Chekhov’s greatest works with enviable tenacity and soul.