RIPE AND FLAVORFUL A NEW PRODUCTION OF 'CHERRY ORCHARD' ESCHEWS THE BITTER FOR THE TART.

Byline: Evan Henerson Theater Critic

AN AIR of anticipation hangs over the doomed estate of Lyubov Andreyevna Ranevskaya. Those in the know can feel something coming even if the estate's residents and servants prefer to go about their lives in not-so-blissful ignorance.

Playwright Anton Chekhov was foreseeing the Russian Revolution, but in Jack Stehlin's production of Chekhov's ``The Cherry Orchard,'' the foreboding is unspecific. Only the upstart merchant Lopakhin (played by Alfred Molina) knows which way the wind is blowing, but nobody listens to him.

Making a lot out of a little and working with a crackerjack cast that 99-seat theaters can seldom muster, Stehlin's Circus Theatricals production - a co-production with the Odyssey Theatre Ensemble - is a ``Cherry Orchard'' worth savoring. Lacking the dreary self-pitying bitterness that infuses so many productions of Chekhov, Stehlin's crew makes the aches alive and vibrant. These tattered aristocrats may be going down, but they're exiting with champagne corks popping.

Consider the painful tongue-tied silence of Molina's Lopakhin as he tries to spit out a marriage proposal to Ranevskaya's adopted daughter, Varya (Stephanie Zimbalist). For that matter, look at Zimbalist practically imploding in despair when Lopakhin's words don't come. Or take in the boundless joy of landowner Pishchik (Paul Taylor Robinson) as he pays off a fraction of his debts before running off for someone else's estate, gushing, ``I owe money to everybody!'' These scenes take place quite late in the play, but there's much that comes before.

Ranevskaya (Jill Gascoine) has returned after several years abroad, her finances squandered and her estate and famed cherry orchards about to hit the auction block. Returning with Ranevskaya is her slightly infantile brother Gayev (Greg Mullavey) and daughter Anya (Nikella Dee). The servants are all either ancient, lazy or somewhat on the take.

Newly rich Lopakhin, whose peasant ancestors were slaves on the estate, has a plan to save the family's bacon, if somebody will just give him the OK to execute it. Meanwhile, Anya is romanced halfheartedly by student Petya (Andy Comeau). The auction, and by extension the family's fate, is days away.

Jaret Sacrey's set design makes better than efficient use of three transparent screens behind which characters dance, exit or chase each other around. A few pieces of furniture re-create the estate's nursery in the opening scene, and scenic projections evoke the orchard, train journeys, land holdings, etc. The overall color scheme is a light burgundy.

Gascoine and Mullavey both convey the family blindness, albeit in quite different ways. With their uncomprehending stares and zest for the life that is dwindling away, both suggest a kind of madness. Molina's Lopakhin, by contrast, is the sharpest of realists. To the actor's credit - and his director's - Lopakhin doesn't crow or rub his victory in people's faces. He's still, one suspects, a little ill at ease in his gentry finery.

Part of me will always wonder at those who label Chekhov's plays comedies. There may well be something humorous about these aimless, largely pathetic people. Stehlin and company find the laughs. More important, they locate a heart.

THE CHERRY ORCHARD - Three and one half stars

Where: Odyssey Theatre, 2055 S. Sepulveda Blvd., Los Angeles.

When: 8 p.m. Wednesday through Saturday, 7 p.m. Sunday; through July 28.

Tickets: $19.50 to $25. Call [phone].

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Photo:

Alfred Molina, left, Greg Mullavey, Jill Gascoine and Stephanie Zimbalist star in ``The Cherry Orchard'' at Odyssey Theatre.