Three Sisters Intiman closes July 9
	Seattleplays.com review By Tom Scanlon
		Bartlett Sher directs, from a shockingly philistine “adaptation” by Craig Lucas. Both seem to be cruising, following the New York success of their collaboration “Light in the Piazza.” This production is more “Light as Pizza” – it’s about as Russian as a microwaved slice of pizza.     One doesn’t need to be a student of Russian to recognize these chokingly anachronistic word choices:      “What crap!"     “We teased the hell out of him”      “How’s your health?” is answered by “How’s your ASS?”      To underscore the vulgarism, there’s an “Aw, what the fuck?” thrown in for good measure.      Even more stupidly, Andrey’s nickname becomes “Andy.”      This is all fine and good, if Craig Lucas is writing for Keanu Reeves. Curiously, most of Chekhov's elegant language remains as we traditionally know it; it's as if Lucas just leafed through and stuck an Americanized phrase in every few pages. The costumes and settings remain a Russian town, circa 1900.      After you wince through some of the Lucas-isms, there is much to enjoy.      Though more than a trifle self-indulgent (many monologues lack snap and crispness), the cast is strong-to-powerful. Julie Dretzin gives the most muscular performance of the sisters, playing Masha like she is possessed of an evil spirit; Broadway veteran Judy Kuhn and young UW grad Alexandra Tavares are up-and-down as the other sisters, both growing stronger in the second act (in which Kuhn’s Olga loses her blandness for frustration and Tavares’ Irina trades peppiness for hard cynicism). Jay Goede gives the perfect Dudley Doright-meets-Casanova note to Vershinin, the lieutenant who makes a play for Masha.      The true find in the cast is Rob Estes, who as Solynony makes it seem like Brando has crashed a Merchant-Ivory production. Estes is unpredictable and dangerous, just what this show needs..       Though the director should be praised for unleashing Estes, Sher’s direction elsewhere is often lazy, as he allows actors to wander around stage aimlessly. There are a few magical, very-Sher moments, particularly a splendid set/costume change before the final scene. It may not be what Chekov imagined, but it is certainly alluring.       One can’t expect Sher to come up with something brilliant every time at bat, and his directing here is certainly above-average, overall. The disturbing thing is that, as artistic director of Intiman, he surely green-lighted the script by Lucas – his associate artistic director, by the way. Following the cheeseball-of-a-play “The Mystery of Irma Vep” and the Tom Skerritt embarrassment of “Our Town” (otherwise a wonderful production, but that’s a big “otherwise”), one wonders what is going on at Intiman.