Review: Vanya is Alive, The Space

“I’m Alevtina Georgievna Murova. Forget me. Forget my words.”

François Truffaut famously asserted that it’s impossible to make an anti-war film, as depicting war inevitably glorifies it. As if to challenge this, Natalia Lizorkina‘s Vanya is Alive at The Space chooses not to depict Russia’s ongoing invasion of Ukraine. Written mere weeks after the invasion began, the one-man production portrays a beautiful, sunny spring day where children are healthy, the country is at peace, and Alya is happy because Vanya is alive.

The play follows Alya, a Russian mother, as she loses everything to a war her country refuses to acknowledge. Lizorkina’s writing, infused with a deep love for her country and its people, depicts Alya’s struggle to process conflicting news about her son, navigate an inhuman bureaucracy, and seek compassion where none exists. Far from grand monologues, the play is painfully banal in its depiction of love and loss. Vanya’s affection for his mother is expressed through memes he sends her, while Alya’s deepest wish is simply for her son to return home for biscuits and tea. These relatable details make the unfolding tragedy all the more heartbreaking.

Her attempts at dissent – simply holding a religious icon in the town square – are met with darkly realistic results: social ostracism, abuse and legal punishment, culminating in a chilling scene where a prison doctor offers her vodka to comfort her after informing her she will soon “become alive.”

The production’s power lies in its stark minimalism. Nikolay Mulakov, introducing himself as Kolya, commands the stage in jeans and a hoodie. His performance is a masterclass in restraint, using subtle changes in posture and gesture to convey volumes, further complemented by subtle changes in lighting. The deadpan delivery creates an eerie sense of routine that makes emotional breakthroughs all the more shattering. In one particularly gutting moment, after an unfeeling bureaucrat matter-of-factly informs Alya of her child’s death, her desperate cry of “Wait!” into the phone rings out like a gunshot, shattering the carefully maintained façade of normalcy.

Perhaps the most chilling aspect of Vanya is Alive is its innovative approach through self-censorship. The script insists, with increasing desperation, that Alya is happy and Vanya is “not captured and absolutely free.” This is complemented by sparse, repetitive, almost monotonous dialogue which creates a hypnotic rhythm that lulls the audience into a false sense of security, simultaneously exploring the characters’ cognitive dissonance and denial, society-wide ignorance, and state censorship.

Director Ivanka Polchenko has crafted a production that is both a scathing critique of war and a deeply empathetic portrayal of its victims. Recognizing that no actor could fully replicate the pain of a grieving mother, Polchenko’s direction cleverly leaves the audience’s imagination to fill in the blanks. This approach proves devastatingly effective, as each viewer is compelled to envision the unimaginable anguish, making the experience profoundly personal. The pacing is relentless, mirroring the unceasing nature of conflict, with silences used to devastating effect.

Vanya is Alive is not an easy watch, challenging the audience both through its premise and the ways it presents it, but beyond the intentionally confusing and bleak structure it offers a profound meditation on truth, loss, and the stories we tell ourselves to survive. Lizorkina’s writing exposes the suffering endured by ordinary people under a murderous establishment, serving as a vital reminder of the individual human beings caught in the crossfire of war. This is theatre at its most essential and powerful – a voice crying out in the darkness, demanding to be heard, even when justice seems impossible.

Written by: Natalia Lizorkina
Directed by: Ivanka Polchenko

Vanya is Alive plays at The Space until 23 August. It will then be available on-demand for a further two weeks. Further information and bookings available here.