It was a hot night and an even hotter theatre. So, as Oxford Stage Company's production began, perhaps it was not surprising that I wondered if we really need another production of The Cherry Orchard any more than we need more revivals of A Midsummer Night's Dream or How the Other Half Loves. Three hours later, I had my answer. Dominic Dromgoole's production will not be the best or most affecting Cherry Orchard you see, but its idiosyncrasies make it intriguing.
A lot of those virtues spring from Samuel Adamson's new version, which has a daisy-like freshness. It is frank, easy and colloquial, and keeps Chekhov's play entirely of its time while making it seem as if it were written yesterday. I had never realised how incredibly rude everyone is to each other in this play. Lopakhin and his good advice to save the family fortunes is of course ignored as ever, but it is not just Lopakhin, the peasant turned successful businessman, who is snubbed. These people are together but they are desperately alone. For once the semi-detached governess Charlotta, beautifully played by Abigail McKern, is not just a figure of fun but the wise fool, somebody who has realised something the others have not yet understood: we are all alone.
There are other terrific performances: Geraldine James is a melting Ranevskaya unable to escape the curse of a happy childhood, Brian Protheroe's Leonid Gaev is the most exquisitely charming dodo, genially faffing around even at the point of extinction, and Trevor Fox's open-faced, Newcastle-vowelled Lopakhin captures all the puzzlement and eventual liberation of a man who realises that those he has always admired are not necessarily admirable.
Some supporting performances are on a much cruder level, and the design, with its maze-like trails of blossoms, is ugly enough to make you think this cherry orchard will not be missed. But at its best, this proves old plays can tell you something new.
· Until June 28. Box office: 020-8237 1111. Then at Oxford Playhouse.
