'What’s that beautiful Yeats line – “gather me/ into the artifice of eternity”? It’s hard not to think of it when watching Uncle Vanya.

There is talk of God on Professor Serebriakov’s estate in the middle of lord-knows-where. "What we forget, God remembers," warmly advises the old nurse Marina at the start to careworn doctor Astrov as he shudders at thoughts of signal-man who died on his operating table and wonders whether the future will glance back at their struggles. The woman who yearns for Astrov, Vanya’s niece Sonia, affirms her faith that, through self-denying toil, a divine reward lies in wait: "We shall hear the angels sing," as Terry Johnson’s new version at Hampstead puts it.

As played by Alice Bailey Johnson (daughter of the playwright-director, yet also spot-on in the role), Sonia makes these famous last words ring with conviction. Yet something in Alan Cox’s disbelieving eyes as Vanya, and it’s not just the suggestion of tears, lets slip the implication that celestial salvation is a construct.'

"In the name of God, I’m 47," Cox’s Vanya exclaims, as he builds to a peak of incredulous resentment that Robin Soans’s decrepit academic Serebriakov (his brother in law) has bagged such a beauty for his second wife (Abbey Lee’s Yeliena, a transfixing picture of regal ennui). “If I live to be 60, that’s another 13 years. I can’t do that. How am I going to survive...?” He looks appalled. It’s pure Chekhov – despairing and comical, an inversion of the habitual gratitude for more time that taps a different mortal dread.'

'His narrowed eyes at Serebriakov’s blasé proposal to sell-off the estate (rendering Vanya’s work in shreds, his prospects bleak) slice the air with silent venom. He explodes, he crumples, he wilts, rallies.'

'There’s subtlety like that across the board – Soans crushing Vanya with an added weight on the word "nonentity", Kika Markham bubbling like a samovar with misdirected maternal affection as Maryia, in snobbish thrall to her son-in-law’s academic reputation; June Watson bumbling delightfully as the babushka Marina, and David Shaw-Parker impressing as the pitifully cheery-minded hanger-on Telyeghin.'

'Schastlivogo Rozhdestva!'

To read the full review visit The Telegraph online here.

'Terry Johnson's witty take on Chekhov more than raises a chuckle

The most distinctive thing about this revival of Anton Chekhov’s ‘Uncle Vanya’ is that it is very funny. Newly adapted and directed by Hampstead Theatre regular Terry Johnson in the venue's main space, it turns a highly wry eye on the constant laments of the men and is all the better for it.'

'Cox is great at teasing out the slide into bathos in every one of Vanya’s handwringing speeches. He makes his grumpy sniping highly amusing. Similarly, as the vodka-swilling doctor, Astrov, who’s constantly popping by the house, Alex Newman combines messy charm with an incredible case of tin ear. He’ll happily bemoan deforestation but grumble when a patient needs him.'

'Making a strong stage debut as Yeliena, Serebriakov’s much younger new wife, Abbey Lee is a restless presence. Her distress as the various men around her swoon, professing their undying passion for her without really ever seeing her, is a fractured thing. She’s constantly tilting her head, deflecting attention, trying to smile.'

'The standout here, though, is Alice Bailey Johnson as Sonia, Serebriakov’s daughter. Stuck looking after the family estate, in love with Astrov who ignores her in favour of Yeliena, she could just be portrayed as browbeaten and dutiful. But Johnson makes her defiant, quirky and relatable. She’s often sharply funny and captures the chafe of Sonia’s position – the potential trampled on.'

'The rest of the cast beautifully capture the idiosyncrasies of the other characters that are dotted around the family home like dusty ornaments.'

'...this nicely judged production manages to be painful as well as funny.'

To read the full review visit Time Out online here.

'Chekhov was funny. Not ha-ha funny all the time, but funny nonetheless. Terry Johnson’s new version of Uncle Vanya – which he also directs – emphasises the crackling wit of the original, revelling in its dour comedy. It’s less heartbreaking than some interpretations, but it cleverly clocks that special brand of Chekhovian humour, where existentialist doom goes hand-in-hand with guttural laughter.

The characters also undergo subtle changes. Alan Cox is a less dishevelled Vanya than in other productions. A largely charming eccentric, albeit with an extra-dry taste in jokes, he reserves any obvious unravelling until right towards the end.

Making her stage debut, Abbey Lee brings out the softer side of Yeliena. There’s a faint naivety to her tone and mannerisms that removes any hint of cynicism from her marriage to the much older Serebriakov (Robin Soans).

But the most fascinating aspect of Johnson’s staging is Sonia. Played by Alice Bailey Johnson, she stops being poor, downtrodden, ‘plain’ Sonia and instead becomes far funnier, more determined and less in the shadow of her new stepmother.

The whole thing is gorgeously lit by Ben Ormerod who slightly darkens the endless summer rays so that there’s always the faintest suggestion of sunsets and endings.

Likewise, Tim Shortall’s design turns the country estate into the timber frame of a house, half-enfolded into the woodland around it. Trees grow through the living room and leaves collect in piles next to the pantry. Tinted mint green, the house is already part-memory, a relic from another era.'

To read the full review visit The Stage online here.