“Three Sisters” feels important and immediate, and lingers long after the curtain

Inua Ellams’ adaptation of Anton Chekhov’s Three Sisters, co-presented by Soulpepper Theatre and Obsidian Theatre Company, is a show of considerable depth that demands immersion and earns it because every moment of the adeptly directed production is so gripping. 

Shifting the setting from pre-revolutionary Russia to 1960s Nigeria, the play follows the lives of sisters Udo, Lolo, and Nne Chukwu, who are played by Makambe K. Simamba, Akosua Amo-Adem, and Virgilia Griffith, respectively. The reconfigured narrative explores home, resilience, and the inescapable shadows of colonialism and war in a nuanced and compelling fashion. Directed brilliantly by Mumbi Tindyebwa Otu with assistant director Natasha Mumba, the production turns Chekhov’s intimate family story into an epic journey that grabs hold and keeps the audience fully engaged throughout – an impressive feat, given the play’s duration of three hours and twenty minutes.

The play opens on youngest sister Udo’s birthday. The sisters are sitting in front of their beautiful rural home, which was built by their beloved father who died the year before. Eleven years earlier, he uprooted the family and brought them to Owerri to put them in touch with their roots and culture. Now the sisters – especially Udo – are desperate for their previous life in cosmopolitan Lagos.  

Relocating the action to Nigeria during Biafra’s attempted secession between 1967 and 1970, shifts the focus of Three Sisters to a family caught in the inevitable march towards war. This transforms in profound ways their personal and collective identities and the significance of their choices. In Ellams’ adaptation, the sisters’ family is from the dominant Igbo ethnic group, while their brother Dimgba’s girlfriend Abosede is Yorùbá. Lolo’s condescension about Abosede’s variegated clothing (the latter’s attempt at a professional appearance) gives us an early and racially-inflected glimpse into both Lolo’s sense of superiority and Abosede’s eye toward upward mobility. Similarly, when we learn that Nne Chukwu’s father arranged her marriage when she was just twelve years old, it casts her subsequent affair with Ikemba in a new light.

Above all, the re-contextualized narrative launches a potent critique of British colonial legacies, tracing the roots of the war back to the arbitrary boundaries drawn by Britain, forcing over 250 ethnic groups and languages in Nigeria to amalgamate. The more modern historical context, which Ellams blends in with simplicity and sporadic poeticism, enormously enriches the narrative and makes Chekhov’s themes resonate deeply. 

Otu’s visually arresting production is also elevated by exceptional performances, starting with the titular three sisters. The performances of Amo-Adem, Griffith, and Simamba are remarkable for their depth, nuance and authenticity. Amo-Adem brings a stirring, steely vigour to eldest sister Lolo. Chekhov’s frumpy school teacher is re-cast as a well-read intellectual revolutionary, who passionately denounces both British imperialism and Igbo tribalism through her enlightened advocacy for educational reform and a decolonised syllabus. 

Virgilia Griffith touchingly portrays middle sister Nne Chukwu’s deep-seated resentment about the marriage imposed upon her in childhood. She is remote and reticent in the first act, sitting cross-legged with her books – then loosens up, both literally and figuratively, after meeting the soldier Ikemba. Finally, Makambe K. Simamba winningly captures youngest sister Udo’s journey from a brightly-clad, starry-eyed optimist seeking purpose in life, to the grim, afflicted bearer of its impossible burdens. 

The talented ensemble adds layers of richness to the story, showcasing a range of human emotions amid wartime pressures. Daren A. Herbert subtly reveals the philosophical commander Ikemba ‘s underlying vanity. Tony Ofori is heartbreaking as Dimgba, the once-successful brother who had been destined for a bright future as a professor at the University of Lagos, but who increasingly faces self-made ruin. On the night I saw it, the always compelling Matthew G. Brown was brigade doctor Eze, a beloved family friend whose disillusionment grows right up to the play’s climax. Ngabo Nabea is memorable as the centered Nmeri Ora, who is one of Udo’s admirers and a rational pacifist with a fervent desire for Biafran independence. He forms a clear contrast to Amaka Umeh’s volatile Igwe, who is his unpredictable and persistent rival for Udo. JD Leslie is affecting as maid Oyiridiya, who is a barometer for the increasing trauma of the war. And finally, Ordena Stephens-Thompson delivers impeccable comic relief mixed with deeply touching moments, as the long-serving elderly housekeeper Nma, who is revered by the sisters but criticized by Abosede. 

In one of the play’s most affecting scenes, Lolo and Nne Chukwu’s husband Onyinyechukwu (Tawiah M’Carthy, once again disappearing into his role) personalize the forces at play in the larger civil war. The two clash over the curriculum that will be taught in the schools of an independent Biafra. Despite Lolo’s repeated urging, Onyinyechukwu has resisted reading Kwame Nkrumah’s work on neocolonialism. Not only has Lolo read the text: she has internalized it, and so she sees clearly how Britain and the Nigerian government are cynically engineering the failure of Biafran independence. During the scene, she also comes to understand how years earlier, she was subject to interference from her English-educated, yet deeply traditional Igbo father, who thwarted Lolo and Onyinyechukwu’s budding romance by arranging his marriage to Lolo’s younger sister Nne Chukwu. “Nothing happens as we want,” observes Lolo in a devastating conflation of the personal and the national.

Finally, in a scene-stealing, star-making turn, Oyin Oladejo elevates the defiance of the brother’s Yorùbá wife, whose initial bumpkin-like inability to match prints progresses to a secret affair with an army commander that feeds the family when food is scarce. What seems like simple social climbing in the original Chekhov reveals itself as canny and racially-aligned survival and thriving. Her progression from casual cruelty to cutthroat monster is breathtaking. 

The physical aspects of the production – from Joanna Yu’s sets and Andre Du Toit’s lighting design to John Gzowski’s atmospheric sound design – are meticulously crafted to enhance the storytelling with visual and auditory elements that capture the essence of the era and map the emotional landscape of the characters. Ming Wong’s brilliant costume design offers a visual narrative of its own, by encapsulating the characters’ journeys through meticulous choices that reflect their personal transformations over time. Pay close attention to how Wong’s design – not just the individual outfits, but the contrast between the three sisters’ wardrobe and Abosede’s – underscores the four women’s story arcs. 

In summary, the production and its performances are exquisite, and, on the evening I attended, culminated in a well-deserved, rousing minutes-long ovation. This is only natural, for as this narrative shifts from peace to rebellion to war and its aftermath, the production leaves an indelible, gnawing echo of yearning and resilience. 

These three sisters are no mere languishing aristocrats: they are complex subjects striving mightily in the face of social and personal upheaval. 

This Three Sisters is no small matter. It hits hard and stays long, taking up protracted residence in the psyche. To work it out might require a second visit . . . and merit another ovation.

Three Sisters is on stage until March 24, 2024. Click here to reserve tickets.

© Arpita Ghosal, SesayArts Magazine, 2024