What do you do if you're acting in a long run in a foreign country? In New York for "Amadeus", Ian McKellen determined to study tap-dance. Whether he went ahead and we can one day look forward to "King Lear The Musical" remains to be seen. The Russian Oleg Menshikov used his London debut in "When She Danced" to learn English. His success shines through his beautifully assured, perfectly articulate and supremely melodious performance in Gogol's "Gamblers".
It may be his first English language performance, but Mr Menshikov has stuck to a Russian classic and two compatriots, director Dalia Ibelhauptaite and designer Oleg Sheintsis. Their affinity with Gogol is clear.
My one previous brush with the play was a lunchtime production with Kenneth Branagh. That had the essentially naturalistic atmosphere of a raffish gentlemen's club. This is staged as an expressionistic nightmare, with a sense of evil palpable in the air.
Gogol's portrait of a professional gambler tricked by his confederates depicts the deception of appearances as sharply as his better-known "Government Inspector"; but the drama is darker. The players' lust for the game shows that there's nothing as amoral as adrenaline. The scene in which the gang corrupt a supposedly rich young man, forcing him to drink, swear and insult his sister, before robbing him blind, is as repellent as a rape.
Ms Ibelhauptaite's staging is brilliantly bold. She shifts the action from an interior to a coach-house; the actors spend much of the time m four large carriages. And although there are drawbacks - one scene suggests the royal family in an Ascot pile-up - the benefits are great. Not only does it create an air of illicit complicity, but the sinister hoods and rocking frames allow expressive possibilities way beyond those of tables and chairs.
The three main gamblers are strangely, but successfully, contrasted. With his aquiline features, florid manner and frilly cuffs, Mr Menshikov has the fervent romanticism of a Pushkin hero; Mark Rylance, with his laconic delivery and transatlantic twang, resembles a Mark Twain Mississippi card sharp; while, with his saturnine presence and emphatic tones, Phil Daniels suggests a Dickensian bully boy.
Chris Hannan provides an idiomatic and tough translation which encourages sharp characterisations from the entire cast. But the evening belongs to Mr Menshikov, the most charming of conmen, even with his whole world collapsing around him like a house of cards.
What do you do if you're acting in a long run in a foreign country? In New York for "Amadeus", Ian McKellen determined to study tap-dance. Whether he went ahead and we can one day look forward to "King Lear The Musical" remains to be seen. The Russian Oleg Menshikov used his London debut in "When She Danced" to learn English. His success shines through his beautifully assured, perfectly articulate and supremely melodious performance in Gogol's "Gamblers".
It may be his first English language performance, but Mr Menshikov has stuck to a Russian classic and two compatriots, director Dalia Ibelhauptaite and designer Oleg Sheintsis. Their affinity with Gogol is clear.
My one previous brush with the play was a lunchtime production with Kenneth Branagh. That had the essentially naturalistic atmosphere of a raffish gentlemen's club. This is staged as an expressionistic nightmare, with a sense of evil palpable in the air.
Gogol's portrait of a professional gambler tricked by his confederates depicts the deception of appearances as sharply as his better-known "Government Inspector"; but the drama is darker. The players' lust for the game shows that there's nothing as amoral as adrenaline. The scene in which the gang corrupt a supposedly rich young man, forcing him to drink, swear and insult his sister, before robbing him blind, is as repellent as a rape.
Ms Ibelhauptaite's staging is brilliantly bold. She shifts the action from an interior to a coach-house; the actors spend much of the time m four large carriages. And although there are drawbacks - one scene suggests the royal family in an Ascot pile-up - the benefits are great. Not only does it create an air of illicit complicity, but the sinister hoods and rocking frames allow expressive possibilities way beyond those of tables and chairs.
The three main gamblers are strangely, but successfully, contrasted. With his aquiline features, florid manner and frilly cuffs, Mr Menshikov has the fervent romanticism of a Pushkin hero; Mark Rylance, with his laconic delivery and transatlantic twang, resembles a Mark Twain Mississippi card sharp; while, with his saturnine presence and emphatic tones, Phil Daniels suggests a Dickensian bully boy.
Chris Hannan provides an idiomatic and tough translation which encourages sharp characterisations from the entire cast. But the evening belongs to Mr Menshikov, the most charming of conmen, even with his whole world collapsing around him like a house of cards.

Submitted by Jane Grey