In the immortal (and very Russian) words of Tolstoy, every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. Darlinghurst Theatre Company’s production of Erika Sheffer’s 2012 play Russian Transport focuses our gaze onto one particular Russian-Jewish migrant family living in Brooklyn as each character chases their own version – or perversion – of the elusive American Dream.
Uncle Boris (Nathan Sapsford) has come to stay. He waltzes into stern matriarch Diana’s (Rebecca Rocheford Davies) home, charmingly innocent to American colloquialisms and brandishing a babushka doll filled with vodka. Boris is charismatic and suave, and quickly establishes himself at the centre of the family’s life. Anna Gardiner’s two-level dolls house set fits all the action compactly within it, easily moving our attention from domestic dramas about Chinese takeout to jaunts driving around Flatbush. It works to reflect the split between the younger and older family members, with interloper Boris going between them: as both the bridge, and later, the division between the two generations.
Fourteen-year-old Mira (Hayley Sullivan) and older brother Alex (played by the excellent Ryan Carter) are both quickly drawn into Boris’s underworld hijinks. Mira’s ongoing battle with her mother about travelling for the summer has the markings of a typical adolescent push-and-pull, but leads to the revelation of some pretty unsavoury family secrets. Alex lets his ambitions take him in way over his head.
Comedy is at the heart of Russian Transport, but its power comes from the moments when you’re not sure if you should be laughing. Some dialogue feels like a punch to the throat and some like a punch right in the heart. During a particularly vicious argument, Diana’s spot-on delivery of one of her mangled idioms (“You have no legs you are standing on!”) instantly releases the tension. At other points, some of the audience laughs and others gasp at the delivery of the same line: Sheffer’s script has a masterful, if incidental, ability to elicit twin reactions.
However, the timing of the gags sometimes feels premature. The tension of uncomfortable scenes doesn’t build enough to be effectively released by the laughter – all you really want is for the dialogue to keep pace and reveal the motivations of the characters.
Any initial awkwardness between the actors and their dialogue wears down to leave smart, seamless interplay in its wake. They bounce off each other, getting comfortable in the profanity-laced rhythms of the script.
Joseph Uchitel’s deft direction helps the actors navigate the deep discomfort that some of their scenes provoke. Their tight physicality and hand gestures convey the neurotic energy of their world. Particularly, Hayley Sullivan’s ease at portraying not just the fluctuations of brassy but insecure Mira, but also transforming into a series of Russian women later on is truly impressive. Not just for the solid amount of Russian she speaks, but for her ability to cycle through poise, then jitteriness, and finally true, grotesque fear.
The characters are mostly well-crafted but there are times when they risk becoming parodies of themselves. Diana’s gags draw heavily from the guilt-tripping Jewish mother trope: “I’m not suffering because of you… I’m suffering because I’m alive”.
At around two and a half hours (with an interval), there are a series of denouements towards the end which all feel like they could be the final scene of the play. But it continues until we see in stark relief the specifics of the chaos this particular unhappy family has been thrown into. Even if you’re not convinced by the clever, dark humour or the skilfully drawn characters, at least Russian Transport might make your family seem a whole lot saner in comparison.