Review: The Cherry Orchard (Swan Theatre)

Review by Raphael Kohn

⭐️⭐️

Staging Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard is a difficult task in 2026. At least, I thought it would be, until two high-profile productions were announced to be gracing the stages of the UK this year. First up is the RSC, staging a new adaptation written by Laura Wade, whose previous RSC work (also directed by Tamara Harvey), The Constant Wife, was a tremendous hit. The task ahead of them couldn’t be more daunting: could lightning strike twice for the Wade-Harvey pair?

Unfortunately, it did not. Where The Constant Wife shone in a gently revised adaptation, updated with the lightest of touches in a quietly radical interpretation, The Cherry Orchard stutters and stumbles through its runtime, rarely finding the same theatrical magic as before. It’s a tough task, no doubt. Chekhov’s play is a classic, but one that was very much of its time, a tale of social change as the Ranyevsky family, former aristocrats now struggling to pay their debts due to their ignorance toward their finances. As time goes on, it becomes ever more clear that the social order that once maintained their dominance is collapsing, and with it the fortunes of the aristocracy.

Originally conceived as a comedy by Chekhov, yet described as a ‘tragicomedy’ by the RSC’s own programme notes, The Cherry Orchard is a difficult thing to get right in 2026. After all, with wealth inequality sharply increasing and the cost of living ever toughening our lives, it’s pretty difficult to feel much sympathy for the Ranyevsky family as they face the prospect of selling their orchard due to financial difficulties of their own making. But unfortunately, Wade and Harvey go almost all-in on a tragic interpretation, light on the comedic elements and heavy on the pitiful.

They at least try to inject some excitement with a star-studded cast. Most notably, following his role as Prospero in The Tempest just a few months ago, veteran actor Kenneth Branagh takes on the role of Lopakhin, the son of a serf who ascends the social hierarchy as quickly as Ranyevskaya falls. Ranyevskaya herself is played by Academy Award-winner Helen Hunt, while her brother Gaev and daughter Anya are brought to life by Bill Pullman and Chumisa Dornford-May respectively. Surely, this should be a recipe for success.

Thankfully, the star-studdied casting does pay off with some radiantly stellar performances. Branagh’s Lophakin is all charm with undertones of tension, constantly hinting at some deeper resentment which only surfaces for a mere moment. Dornford-May, alongside Esther Smith as her adopted sister Varya, brings a layer of anguish to their sorrowful performances, grounding the melancholy tone well. Unfortunately, despite her prestige and obvious talent, Helen Hunt delivers a solid but mild performance as Ranyevskaya, never quite tapping into the complexity she could dig into with the role. Similarly, Pullman finds some humour in his role as Gaev, but struggles to elevate it further than a sidelined accompaniment to Hunt’s Ranyevskaya. Even Alfred Enoch, whose previous appearances at the RSC in Henry V and Pericles well and truly earned him the high praise I lauded him with, struggles to give his portrayal as Trofimov the intensity it deserves as something of a socialist revolutionary.

It’s difficult to put my finger on why the jigsaw pieces aren’t quite fitting together. Part of it might unfortunately be Wade’s adaptation, which neither reinterprets the material nor reaffirms the original enough to justify its own place, instead provoking more questions of why it needed to be re-adapted at all. In going for a mainly melancholic tone, her adaptation finds little thematic relevance nor emotional resonance. Harvey directs the play in exact synergy with Wade (which is to be expected from two collaborators with a rich history of working together) but in this case unfortunately only slows things down. That’s partially literal, actually. The pace slows to a grinding crawl for most of the first half, picking up some energy in the second before sinking back to a sluggish tempo. It could have worked, had it settled around a reflective and insightful adaptation, but unfortunately there’s more to be required on that front.

As is to be expected from the RSC, it at least looks rather nice, on Anna Fleischle’s derelict set, all covered with cloth drapes as if each item of furniture is a dead body to be taken to the morgue. Her cherry tree trunks wrap around the beams of the Swan theatre, enveloping the wood venue stylishly. Aideen Malone lights each scene unobtrusively, without disrupting the focus on the actors.

I can’t help but feel a bit sad about writing this all. I had such high hopes for The Cherry Orchard, and truly wish I enjoyed it more. Something just felt a bit cold and unengaging about it all, as if it would be enough to bring together some brilliant actors and just say ‘act some Chekhov!’. But unfortunately, this tragicomedy-minus-the-comedy just doesn’t quite hit its stride and instead labours its way through what could otherwise have been a truly mesmerising theatrical event.

The Cherry Orchard plays at The Swan Theatre, Stratford-Upon-Avon until 29th August 2026. Tickets from https://www.rsc.org.uk/the-cherry-orchard/

Photos by Johan Persson