ANTON CHEKHOV’S THE DUEL
Directed by Dover Koshashvili
Produced by Donald Rosenfeld & Mary Bing
Written by Bing, based on the 1891 novella by Anton Chekhov
Released by High Line
USA. 95 min. Not Rated
With Andrew Scott, Fiona Glascott, Tobias Menzies & Niall Buggy
 

Adapting short fiction to the screen seems to leave little work for the screenwriter, who can unfurl the circumscribed plot almost literally in its entirety. Anton Chekhov’s longest story, “The Duel,” receives a thorough, faithful treatment in the eponymous film by Soviet-born director Dover Koshashvili. He could have made the film in Russian, but a lush and lively English-language adaptation expands the audience even further for an author whose simply-written and humorous stories are already highly accessible.

Among the Russians living in comfort and relative isolation in an idyllic seaside town (somewhere in the Caucuses) is Laevsky (Andrew Scott), an educated, solipsistic rouge, who spends his days drinking, playing cards, and shuffling about in his slippers. The cause of his self-indulgent angst—quite modern in its mopeyness—is Nadya (Fiona Glascott), his beautiful but frivolous hussy of a mistress. Having suddenly fallen out of love with her, Laevsky feels the violent need to abandon her and move back north, “to the pines, to the mushrooms, to people, to ideas.”

Laevsky’s callow and parasitic attitude creates a sharp contrast to Von Koren (Tobias Menzies), a self-righteous zoologist who, in the age of Darwin, harbors a eugenicist’s view of his fellow man. And Laevsky, in his professional opinion, is a degenerate specimen, dangerous to the town and the gene pool. When Von Koren learns of Laevsky’s impending escape through a mutual friend, he challenges him to a duel, to quench his searing hatred and, in his mind, cleanse good society. The film is wondrous in its portrayal of Laevsky’s hysteria and his dumbfounded reaction to the challenge. Von Koren’s obtuse principled reasoning aside, the ritual of duelling is already slipping into oblivion, and the men must comically refer to a duelling consultant. This piercing psychological parable is hearty with humor throughout—in Nadya’s exaggerated femininity or a local church deacon’s goofy, child-like disposition.

The characters are nuanced (full of life and detail), but not necessary subtle—their personalities are loud and clear-cut, and their actions occasionally guilty of caricature. But even if a modern, uninitiated audience finds this distracting, watching the inebriating, beautiful lifestyle of Russian gentry on holiday—all parasols and samovars—is reason enough to see the film. Yana Litovsky
April 28, 2010