Anton Chekhov’s The Duel

Anton Chekhov’s The Duel

What is most immediately striking about “Anton Chekhov’s The Duel” are the visuals. Impressions of romance compose shots in this film, and they are done so by an impressionist cinematographer Paul Sarossy whose use of color is softened to taste and whose arrangement of elements follows classical symmetry. Unfortunately, although combined with the story that does not stop for anything, it results in a great deal more than necessary; once in a while we should object to vulgarity.

Laevsky (Andrew Scott) is one those 19th-century Russian literature civil servants who seem high up on an insignificant ladder. Shacked up at this resort with his married mistress Nadia (Fiona Glascott), she has lost all appeal now that she is rid of her husband. I have been reading a lot of Balzac lately and it strikes me that absent husbands in European classics play much like “Noises Off.” To the local physician Dr. Samoylenko Laevsky expresses his discontent; Chekhov often provides such learned listeners to sit gravely through anguished monologues, not for their diagnoses but their ears. Also for his money: Laevsky he is a gambler and drunk who desperately hopes for a loan.

Into this powder keg comes zoologist Von Koren (Tobias Menzies), inflamed by Darwinism’s revolutionary principles which were then being embraced by the intelligentsia in all wrong ways there is hardly a man alive who does not believe that evolution points an arrow at him. Too refined to enter one himself but see how locals respond to underemployed sexuality of Nadia He observes with scientific precision who will win out over whom among races little Laevskys could be said represent springtime while little Von Korens stand winter maturity etc., etc.. All comes head during party night when overserved temporarily goes barking mad and determines unfit survive.

Then faces choice open only two if he wants his Von Korens prevail over little Laevsky-s seduce female or kill man given rudimentary grasp Darwin’s theory zoologist here not shy about sex in forthright matter does Anton Chekhov’s The Duel however please me Friday night audiences increasingly lose interest but it has honorably shown nudity too long rare grown director Dover Koshashvili knows Von Koren too much of lard ass to try with so challenges instead.

One these men: Man No. 1 who no longer desires her, or Man No. 2 would have been more useful shoes for Nadias excitement as Rhett Butler calling out Ashley Wilkes must do die woman over and doctor saw this all coming then are always seeing everything ahead perceptionally.

A good filmmaker is Koshashvili; his “Late Marriage” from 2001 dealt with some practical difficulties an arranged marriage among Soviet Georgian immigrants in Israel but its characters had advantage caring strongly about who they did not sleep together and in “The Duel” much of Chekhov lust seems

to be a matter best approached by the introspection of the world weary.

“Anton Chekhov’s The Duel” is not a bad movie. It is well crafted and performed in English by an almost entirely Irish cast, all of whom deliver their lines with a proper Chekovian polish. Yet it fizzles out somewhere along the line: A duel over a woman ought to be more thrilling than this. It could knock you out if you’re not well rested when you go in.

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