Off Broadway Review: Ivanov

“Comedy” in the Country Side

Chekhov’s Rarely Produced Early Play is Not to Be Missed

BY CHRISTOPHER BYRNE

The dream of a permanent repertory theater in New York is not new. From the iconic actress Eva LaGallienne’s efforts in 1929 through Circle in the Square in the 1950s, to Circle Rep and many more, the noble dream has almost inevitably been a victim of finance, changing artistic vision, real estate, or a combination of all of these.

Grim though those factors are, it has never deterred the noble efforts of dedicated, passionate theater artists from trying again and again, generation after generation, determined to best the sea of troubles inherent to the enterprise and elevate the artform. Often, astonishing work emerges, and so it is with great hope—and great pleasure—to welcome the latest group making the effort in New York: New American Ensemble.

If their new production of Chekhov’s Ivanov is an indication of what they can—or will—do, then their prospects are very strong for long-term success.

Ivanov is one of Chekhov’s first plays, and it’s rarely produced. It seems like you can’t swing a samovar without running into a production Uncle Vanya these days, or a take on The Three Sisters or The Cherry Orchard, but Ivanov, is a problematic play, partially because it’s an early one. There are some plotting and consistency issues, and the theme of a man wrestling with depression and virtually destroying his own life is not easy going. On top of that, it is very much a comedy…in the Chekhovian sense. We are meant to laugh at the excesses and irrationality of the characters, even as worlds spin out of control and happiness of any lasting sort proves stubbornly elusive.

Under the sure-handed direction of Michael DeFilippis, however, this production is solid, heartfelt, and often hilarious. The characters are boldly imagined, and the performances are riveting. Even the smallest roles are imbued with vibrancy.

The plot concerns Ivanov and the crumbling of his estate through bad investments and mismanagement. He’s borrowed more than he can repay, and the hoped-for dowry from his wife never materialized when she, a Jew, married out of her faith and her parents cut her off. (The new translation by Paul Schmidt emphasizes the antisemitism of many in this world.) Ivanov is further saddled with his drunk uncle Count Shabelsky and Borkin, the property manager, who is always scheming. Ivanov’s wife Anna, meanwhile, is dying of consumption, and Ivanov begins a tryst with Sasha, the daughter of Zinaida (who controls both her daughter and husband Lebedev with an iron first) and is the woman to whom Ivanov owes 9,000 rubles. Shabelsky, always looking for easy money, decides to court the widow Martha, who seems willing to trade her fortune to be a countess. Sasha is chafing at all the nonsense and instead develops a crush on Ivanov. He, in turn, becomes enamored of her youthful adoration, though he has some moral scruples about waiting for his wife to die so he and Sasha can marry…and presumably financial salvation. Gossip and intrigue pulse through all of this, as the characters exhibit a kind of vulgarity and venality that Chekhov would criticize through many of his later works and provides the basis for his mordant view of humanity.

Chaos reigns, but DeFilippis orchestrates it beautifully. With extraordinary pacing and a building sense of anxiety, the constantly spinning world of the play sprawls over the diminutive stage of The West End Theater and reaches its pinnacle in Ivanov’s ultimate act of self-destruction. His suicide is a ridiculous act, neither noble nor passionate, and the world spins on, unaware that Ivanov was even there. It’s a dark comedy—and view of life—to be sure, but in it we see the seeds of the pointless suffering of self-indulgent and blindly egotistical people that is a major theme in the playwright’s later work.

As noted, the company that brings the play to life is exemplary and works together flawlessly. Ilia Volok as Shabelsky and Mike Labbadia as Borkin provide the comic heft of the piece, aided beautifully by Alexandra Pearl as the rich widow Martha and Maude Mitchell as the eccentric matchmaker Avdotya. Their excesses area wonderfully calibrated. Quinn Jackson as the beleaguered, estranged wife Anna gives a searing performance as a woman who feels she was used and discarded. Lambert Tamin as Anna’s doctor Lvov is appropriately overwrought at Ivanov’s treatment of his wife. Lvov is the kind of character for whom Chekhov reserved a special level of distaste—a moralistic, pompous “honest man” who is revealed to have his own hypocrisy as well. (No one gets off easy with Chekhov.)

Maya Shoham as Sasha gives a finely developed, complex performance. At once clear-eyed and besotted with Ivanov, Shoham makes sense of these incongruous feelings. Mary Bacon as Zinaida and Paul Niebanck as her husband Lebedev are wonderfully at odds, as Zinaida sees repayment and Lebedev wants to help Ivanov so he can have some peace.

At the center of this incessant maelstrom is Zachary Desmond as Ivanov. It is as fine a performance of a complicated Chekhovian character as you could ever want to see. As written, the character swings between emotional extremes, but Desmond makes each real and grounded without commentary. In doing so, he allows the audience not merely to see but to feel his own (largely self-inflicted) torment.

I’ve seen other productions of Ivanov over the years, and while I appreciated them, they generally left me cold…or confused. So, I have to admit I was dragging my feet to the Upper West Side. What I experienced was galvanizing and wickedly entertaining. Don’t drag your feet…run. And let’s hope for much more from this new company.

Ivanov
New American Ensemble
The West End Theater
263 West 86^th Street
Tues-Fri 7 p.m.; Sat 2 & 7 p.m.; Sun 5 p.m. through April 5
$49-$70 at OvationTix
2 hours, 45 mins, 1 intermission

Featured Image: Zachary Desmond
All photos provided by the production. Photo credit: Brownen Sharp
Published March 20, 2026