The Cherry Orchard – Harold Pinter Theatre, London

4/5 Stars

There must be something about The Cherry Orchard this year, because I’ve now seen it twice. Two productions of the same Chekhov play in a matter of months might sound like too much Chekhov, but they’ve turned out to be surprisingly different experiences.

The first was Kenneth Branagh’s production at the RSC in Stratford-upon-Avon earlier this year. This time, I headed to London’s Harold Pinter Theatre for a new adaptation by Conor McPherson, directed by Ian Rickson and starring Kristin Scott Thomas and Stephen Mangan.

For anyone unfamiliar with Anton Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard, the story centres on Lyubov Ranevskaya, an aristocratic woman returning to her family’s Russian estate after several years abroad. Unfortunately, while she’s been away, the family finances have gone rather spectacularly wrong, and their beloved cherry orchard is about to be sold to pay off their debts.

Lopakhin, a wealthy businessman whose family once worked on the estate, suggests developing the land into holiday cottages. It’s a perfectly reasonable solution, but accepting that their world is changing seems considerably harder than actually doing anything about it. Instead, the family talks, reminisces, argues and generally finds increasingly inventive ways of avoiding the enormous financial disaster heading straight towards them. It’s a play about class, privilege, loss and the difficulty of letting go of the past. It also happens to be rather funny.

One of the things that makes this production work so well is McPherson’s adaptation. He has a remarkable ability to make the ordinary feel extraordinary, something I’ve particularly enjoyed in The Weir and The Brightening Air. His characters have wonderfully natural conversations about seemingly inconsequential things, yet somehow reveal enormous amounts about themselves. It’s almost as though you’re peering through a window into somebody else’s everyday life, watching conversations you were never meant to hear. There’s something quite exquisite about the way he does it.

That approach feels particularly well suited to Chekhov, whose characters spend an extraordinary amount of time talking about life while being rather less successful at actually living it. The staging is also simple but effective at portraying the decline in the families fortunes with details including ivy growing through the walls and neglected internal decoration adding perfectly to the ambience.

The biggest difference between the two productions I’ve seen is the humour, much of which comes from Stephen Mangan’s portrayal of Lopakhin. Mangan is one of those actors who can make me laugh without saying anything. A raised eyebrow, an awkward movement or a fleeting expression can be funnier than an entire page of dialogue. His interpretation is noticeably lighter than Kenneth Branagh’s approach in Stratford and personally I think that’s due to their differing acting strengths. Branagh also adopted a Northern Irish accent, a decision that left me slightly distracted for much of that performance.

Mangan has an ability to bring a warmth and fondness through natural comic timing that makes Lopakhin immediately engaging. Beneath the humour, though, there’s genuine vulnerability. Despite his wealth and success, Lopakhin still carries the insecurities of someone whose family once occupied the bottom of the social hierarchy and who feels almost guilty and unworthy of his current success. Mangan captures that beautifully.

Kristin Scott Thomas is equally impressive as Ranevskaya, the family’s wonderfully impractical matriarch. She balances vulnerability, confusion and pride with an almost wilful inability to acknowledge what’s happening around her. It would be easy for the character to become frustrating, yet Scott Thomas makes her sympathetic. You understand why she’s clinging to the past, even when her decisions are impossible to defend.

The supporting cast is exceptionally strong. Peter Wight is wonderful as Gaev, Ranevskaya’s eccentric brother, whose talent for talking at length without contributing anything useful seems particularly appropriate in this family. Karl Johnson is fantastic as Firs, the elderly servant whose loyalty to the estate is both touching and rather sad.

The ensemble as a whole worked beautifully together. At times, it felt less like watching a play and more like spending an evening with a particularly dysfunctional family.

I particularly enjoyed the chemistry between Nadia Parkes as Anya, Ranevskaya’s youngest daughter, and Jack Riddiford as Trofimov, the idealistic student. Their connection and chemistry felt completely natural and believable, with a lovely sense of youthful affection and excitement about the future.

Interestingly, this was also the one area I felt had been explored more fully in the RSC production. In this production the relationship felt under developed and unexplored. I would have liked their relationship to have been given a little more attention. Their optimism provides such an interesting contrast to the older generation’s inability to let go of the past, and I felt that opportunity was slightly glossed over.

Ultimately, I wouldn’t describe this production as groundbreaking. The Barbican's 2025 production of The Seagull with Cate Blanchett was a much more daring interpretation of Chekhov and left me thinking about it long after I’d left the theatre.

This is a different experience. It doesn’t attempt to reinvent the wheel, or indeed the cherry orchard. Instead, it takes a wonderful play, gives it an excellent cast and allows the characters to tell their story.

Sometimes that’s more than enough.

I left the Harold Pinter Theatre having thoroughly enjoyed myself. It’s funny, touching and beautifully performed, with Kristin Scott Thomas and Stephen Mangan leading an ensemble that genuinely feels like a family.

If the RSC production showed me the more melancholic side of The Cherry Orchard, this one reminded me just how funny Chekhov can be.

Considering it’s a play about a family losing absolutely everything, that’s quite an achievement.

Seen 12/10/2026

Accessibility at the Harold Pinter Theatre

The biggest accessibility challenge at the Harold Pinter Theatre is actually getting into the building.

On arrival, you’re met by a member of the access team at the main entrance before being taken around to a side door, where security opens the entrance and positions a portable ramp. The ramp itself is quite long, but the real difficulty is getting onto it. The turning space is particularly tight because of the narrow pavement and cars parked alongside it. Ideally, the council would extend the pavement at this point to make access easier. Unfortunately, we don’t live in an ideal world, so depending on the size of your wheelchair, you may need to remove your footplates to negotiate the turn safely.

Once inside, you cross the foyer to reach the access toilet and wheelchair park spce. If you’ve booked a transfer seat, this is immediately the left as you enter. The lobby is quite small and can get very busy and congested especailly if you arrive before the auditorium is opened.

The accessible toilet is another area where space is limited. It’s quite narrow, making manoeuvring difficult, particularly if you use a larger powered wheelchair. I found it easier to reverse into the toilet, as there wasn’t enough room to turn around comfortably. If you need to transfer sideways, you may also struggle with the available space.

To access the wheelchair space, staff position a temporary cover over the steps, creating a level route into the seating area. It’s an effective solution, although it does come with one drawback: once you’re in position, you can’t easily leave during the performance. At the end of the show, you also need to wait until the auditorium has emptied before staff can safely remove the cover and help you exit.

The wheelchair parks space itself is excellent. The view of the stage is fantastic, with a clear sightline that allows you to enjoy the performance without having to constantly adjust your position. The companion seats are positioned alongside the wheelchair spaces, although they are apparently a little uncomfortable after a while.

Overall, the Harold Pinter Theatre offers an excellent view from its wheelchair spaces, but getting in and out of the building, along with the limited space in the accessible toilet, could present difficulties for some wheelchair users.

If you can manage the tight turns and don’t need a particularly spacious accessible toilet, it’s definitely a theatre worth considering. The seating and sightlines are very good, but I’d recommend checking the entrance arrangements with the access team before booking, particularly if you use a larger powered wheelchair.