★★★★

“a vital and dramatic production that draws us out of our comfort zone”

Fyodor Dostoevsky wrote his short novel, ‘The Gambler’, under pressure to repay gambling debts. Originally set in a hotel and casino in an unnamed German city, the themes inevitably reflect his own life and his own addiction to roulette. He even bet the publishing rights of all his past and future works, wagering that he would complete the novel within thirty days. He did manage to finish the book in time, but the success of this particular gamble shouldn’t detract from his powerfully cautionary tale.

Criticised for being rushed out and for not being as polished as his major works, it was also lauded for its honest description of addiction, focusing on repetition and loops of behaviour. This is the core that the Kyoto based company, Chiten Theatre, have grasped on for their unique and intensely stylised interpretation of the story. To reap the full benefit of this production, there are two bits of homework to do: become familiar with the synopsis and brush up a little on Japanese culture and its social fabric. The former is easy – it’s a short novel but failing that there are plenty of summaries on the internet. What is more difficult, however, is understanding and adopting the mindset of the creators of this piece of theatre. But once achieved, one’s enjoyment of the show intensifies immeasurably.

All things aside, director Motoi Miura’s staging is visually stunning. Itaru Sugiyama’s set is a roulette wheel that revolves while the ensemble cast are grouped around a table at its centre. As it turns, they break away, moving with choreographed precision. Sometimes it is beautifully fluid, sometimes bizarrely jagged. The entire show is underscored by the pulsing sounds of experimental rock trio, ‘kukangendai’. It appears fragmented and chaotic, yet we sense that there is some sort of purpose. The actors seldom speak to each other, instead addressing the audience. In Japanese, the surtitles are like soundbites. Some are more poignant than others, but all are quite pertinent. Translated by Ikuo Kameyama, we are given a sense of the story, and I guess it is up to our emotions to fill in the rest.

The main problem is that there is a lot of sensory overload. Repetition is key – but it has been taken to its extreme. The delivery is a high decibel monotone and the constant banging of the table to punctuate the lines eventually grates. We do see the various personalities, however. Takahide Akimoto stands out as the central figure, Alexei, consumed by his gambling and also consumed by the opposing feelings of anger and resignation his addiction triggers. Midori Aioi is charismatic as love interest Polina, displaying a cool detachment towards Alexei. Satoko Abe as ‘Grandmother’ – the wealthy, elderly aunt who loses her fortune – injects some much-needed humour into the piece, displaying some remarkable physical agility. Each of the cast has an individuality but more often than not we only see the ensemble working as one machine. Whilst this isn’t a fault, it does distance us from any real emotional involvement.

The structure is perfect, though, for the simple plot. Basically, the eponymous gambler – Alexei – bets, wins, loses, promises to stop, then returns to the roulette table. The show fixes (fixates even) on this loop and we feel trapped within it. It is slightly disturbing and uncomfortable, a little too long, but ultimately powerful. Like the subject matter, the play itself lures us in then ensnares us. We breathe a sigh of relief when it is over but some part of us feels the temptation to give it another go. In that way it is extremely clever. It is a niche experience and will probably suffer from its narrow appeal, yet it is a vital and dramatic production that draws us out of our comfort zone. It might not be to everyone’s taste but it’s definitely worth taking a bet on.

THE DREAM OF A RIDICULOUS MAN at the Marylebone Theatre

★★★★

“a stark parable of hope for post-Covid Britain”

In these post-Covid years, one might very well question the merits of paying to see the monologic disillusionment of a lonely man played out on stage. Indeed, one would be forgiven for mistaking Laurence Boswell’s ‘The Dream of a Ridiculous Man’ (newly adapted for the Marylebone Theatre from Dostoyevsky’s novella of the same name) for advertising itself as doing just that.

Boswell puts his idea for the inception of the play down to long walks towards the end of the Covid pandemic. It was then that he began to contemplate Dostoyevsky’s story as having vital resonances to the peculiar cultural context of the post-pandemic years. This spurred his decision to transplant the play and its one-man protagonist, played by Greg Hicks, to the Hackney of the modern day.

The play begins with Hicks soliloquising upon a tale of life as a ‘meaningless accident in an indifferent and seemingly meaningless universe’. The account of this tale eventually brings him to the point of suicide, before he collapses into a sleep. As he sleeps he begins to dream of a surreal utopian world which comes to redefine his perspective on the realities of his own life. The volte face which plays out in Hicks’ mind brilliantly manifests itself in the intimate surroundings of the stage. Much of this effect hinges upon the dynamism and vitality of his performance, while its structure is underpinned by Boswell’s careful rendering of Dostoyevsky’s prose for performance.

Perhaps the only notable area where Boswell’s adaptation falls short lies in the, admittedly difficult, task of capturing the original text’s peculiarly risible quality. Translated literally, Dostoyevsky’s Russian title, Сон смешного человека, reads as ‘A Funny Man’s Dream’. Mikhail Bakhtin famously posited the story’s place as a model late 19th century example of Menippean satire, citing the ultimately playful undertone of the protagonist’s revelatory dream and the action which follows. Hicks’ performance lends itself more towards serious philosophical contemplation than the more surreal or farcical interpretations of the original, though this is not altogether to the diminution of the play’s dramatic effect.

Indeed, Hicks remains, necessarily, the sustaining force of the play, and moments of exposition or extended speech are deployed economically. Moreover, there is much to be said for the production’s remarkably deft means of expressing the philosophical pertinences of Dostoyevsky’s novella wordlessly. From the complementarily layered approach to costume (Caroline Stevens) and lighting (Ben Ormerod) to demarcate between the protagonist’s states of consciousness, to Gary Sefton’s similarly effective direction of Hicks’ movement and positioning on the stage. Each of these components works seamlessly to shift the production’s mise en scène and mood without slipping into ungainly segues in scene or prop changes.

The overarching potentiality of the production lies in the very fact that it tends ultimately not towards nihilism but hope. Indeed, the play presents an inversion of ‘nihilistic’ narratives reminiscent of its opening scene, such as Dürrenmatt’s ‘The Physicist’, or Büchner’s ‘Woyzeck’. Instead its plot centres upon a spiritual ascent from, rather than a psychological downward-spiral toward, an individual’s state of meaninglessness.

The combined efforts of Boswell and his creative team result in a set (Loren Elstein) of deft minimalism, capable of facilitating the play’s characteristically Dostoyevskian dialogue between themes of social realism and individual imagination. The result is a play which effectively expresses the principles of its inspiration. In Boswell’s programme notes, he writes of Dostoyevsky’s story as an homage to the human capacity to create stories. The play’s defining impetus lies in visually exploring the limits of this capacity. In doing so, it prompts a fundamental further contemplation, namely ‘that beyond thinking we might see’ different consciousnesses, and come to believe in bolder realities, than our own. Boswell has managed to repurpose Dostoyevsky’s original into a stark parable of hope for post-Covid Britain

Tag Archives: Fyodor Dostoevsky

THE GAMBLER

★★★★

Coronet Theatre

THE GAMBLER

Coronet Theatre

★★★★

“a vital and dramatic production that draws us out of our comfort zone”

THE GAMBLER

Coronet Theatre

Reviewed on 5th February 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Shotaro Ichihashi

THE GAMBLER

THE GAMBLER

THE GAMBLER

THE DREAM OF A RIDICULOUS MAN

★★★★

Marylebone Theatre

THE DREAM OF A RIDICULOUS MAN at the Marylebone Theatre

★★★★

“a stark parable of hope for post-Covid Britain”