Theatre

Brian Friel’s miniature reverie takes its inspiration from Chekov’s short story 'Lady With Lapdog'.  Gurov, a charming, married, middle-aged roué seduces ingénue bride Anna by drawing her into the Yalta Game, a game of make-believe in which he invents stories about the other inhabitants of the eponymous seaside resort.

This playful conceit is at the heart of this two-hander, as everything about Patrick Mason’s stripped production could be a commentary on the imaginative leap required of all audiences. An exquisitely lit stage is populated by a dozen pale chairs arranged, for the most, as an outdoor café. As Anna and Gurov invent histories for the other holidaymakers, the audience colludes in this imagination, yet is called to account when Gurov says to Anna of the lapdog he’s been petting 'You know the dog isn’t really there?'.

After a brief affair, they part; back to their lives, but lingering together in their imaginations. As they confide their longing in the audience, what is real, and what becomes real in the retelling becomes deliberately blurred. Like all lovers they mythologise their own history until they, and we, are no longer sure if they ever met at all. Friel’s lyrical writing is done full justice by Risteard Cooper, who finds the rippling humour and worldly charm required of his flirtatious Gurov. Rebecca O’Mara is captivating as Anna and the two actors work together wonderfully.

Despite the simplicity of plot and comprehensively-expressed heartsick longing there is a lilting pace to the play. Indeed, at a mere 50 minutes the piece feels slender, and hurries to end with a suddenness which is disconcerting; like a dream from which you wake halfway through. You might be left wishing for more time, but what there is is beautifully spent. This is as fleeting as a holiday romance but no less bittersweet.

 'The Yalta Game' plays at the King’s Theatre, Edinburgh until September 5 as part of the Edinburgh International Festival.