Charlotte Rampling: Lyubov Ranyevskaya Alan Bates: Gayev

Katrin Cartlidge: Varya Owen Teale: Lopahin

Michael Gough: Feers Tushka Bergen: Anya

Director: Michael Cacoyannis

Michael Cacoyannis (Zorba the Greek, The Trojan Women) knows how to translate great literature to the screen. This is no easy task and more often than not, the effort is disappointing. Even with heavyweight talent (Vanessa Redgrave as Mrs. Dalloway to name just one), screen treatments of a fine work, particularly those written for the theater, can be awkward and claustrophobic. Happily, in Cacoyannis' version of perhaps Chekov's greatest play, the elements come together smoothly if not perfectly.

Charlotte Rampling (The Verdict, The Night Porter) is perfect as Lyubov Ranyevskaya, the grande dame of this aristocratic Russian family at the turn of the last century. She returns to the faded family estate after five years in France, where she fled after the accidental death of her son. Her lover has spent most of her money and she is most unhappy. On her return, although the large old home is falling into disrepair, the estate still boasts a magnificent cherry orchard. Her arrival is met enthusiastically by her stepdaughter Varya (Katrin Cartlidge), her brother Gayev (Alan Bates), and the ancient butler Feers.

It soon becomes apparent that the family fortune is gone. In spite of this, Lyubov and Gayev continue to go through their days languidly as they always have, playing billiards or walking in the orchard. Lopahin, a former peasant who has acquired new wealth, pines for Varya but can not bring himself to declare his love for her. He repeatedly and anxiously admonishes Ranyevskaya and Gayev to take steps to prevent the auction of the estate to pay their debtors. He implores them to sell the cherry orchard to save their home and continue to live well. They find it totally inconceivable.

Cacoyannis has added an opening sequence to Chekov's play that shows Ranyevskaya's younger daughter, Anya (Tushka Bergen, a bit too old for this part) going to Paris to fetch her mother. This unnecessary addition does little to further the plot or understanding of the characters. The way Chekov revealed this background was perfectly adequate. In any case, the plot, and remaining totally faithful to it, is not necessary for successful translation to film. Chekov's characters reflect some basic human failings and strengths that make us care about them. The idle rich, while not as sympathetic as those they are at cross-purposes with, are subject to the same difficulties when it comes to accepting change. It is simply easier to deny the inevitable when one is comfortable. At its core, The Cherry Orchard is far from being about those gloomy clouds of gray. These people are eternal optimists. They think that something will happen, someone will intervene, to ensure that life will go on.

On the very eve of the auction, where they are likely to lose all, they give a party, complete with entertainment and elegant gowns, and hope for a miracle. Instead, Gayev suffers the humiliation of inadequately trying to bid to retain the estate. They close the house and pack to depart. Gayev will try his hand at becoming a banker. The ax is falling on the cherry orchard.

The irony of the estate being purchased by Lopahin, still unable to proclaim his feelings for Varya, is too much for the family to bear and he is vilified for having the luck and perseverance to acquire the means they now lack.

The visual style and lush cinematography of Aris Stvrou is beautiful to look at. The cherry orchard in bloom plays almost as another character. Cacoyannis succeeds in giving us the essence of Chekov's play while opening it to the outdoors and reinterpreting the characters to reveal their universal truth.