Aleksandr Pushkin's political play Boris Godunov is being given a first-rate revival at this year's Lincoln Center Festival in New York City. The tale of power struggles and political scheming in Russia's Kremlin following the death of Ivan the Terrible is historical and yet, strangely, the lessons to be learned seem ripped from today's headlines.

Playing in the same space as the recently closed Les Ephémeres, the stage of the makeshift Park Avenue Armory in New York is long and bare. When audience members first sit in their wooden pews, there are monks chanting in Russian (the entire evening has English-language supertitles displayed) and the smell of incense is in the air.

Declan Donnellan, the director of the two-hour piece, has the action begin swiftly and without any frills. Ivan is dead, and Boris, who worked his way up the ranks under Ivan's watchful eye, makes a play to be the next czar. The title character's jockeying, which happens before the play begins, is brutal, and rumors abound that Boris even instigated the murder of Ivan's son, who was the rightful heir to the throne. Any historical details one may need on this 16th-century tale are supplied in extensive program notes.

Now, with Boris crowned and his entourage in good spirits, the focus shifts to Grigory, a novice monk who is being shepherded along by a writer who bangs at a typewriter, giving testimony to Russia's faults and splendor. Unfortunately, this writer, who may be a representation of Pushkin himself, leaves once the action begins and never returns. In the beginning, when he was plotting away his stories on the stage, he added an extra sense of interpretation, as if his writings were the dealings of the play itself. But any resonance his character might have added was swept away when he was ushered aside.

Grigory, hearing of Boris' murderous rise to power, decides to impersonate the supposedly slain prince and begin a revolutionary campaign in nearby Poland. Boris, believing the dead prince now to be alive, is haunted by the past and afraid of the future.

The proceedings are played out in contemporary dress, with the assembled politicos in business suits and simple frocks. The whole evening has a Shakespearean tone that reminded me of Julius Caesar, though the inventive staging reminded me more of the recent production of Black Watch at St. Ann's Warehouse in Brooklyn, NY. With the long stage spreading wide between the audience members, there is a fluid sense of space and time. Scenes are able to finish on one end while the transition to the next scene begins at the other end. Often the audience itself is brought in as a pseudo-peanut gallery, with actors directly addressing theatergoers through monologues and shouts of revolution.

One touching scene played out in a small pool at the center of the stage is between Grigory and his love interest Marina. The two coyly splash each other, while telling secrets like a pair of teenagers. Grigory even goes so far as to let Marina know that he is an impostor and does not have a rightful ascendancy to the throne. Marina, whose dream was to become a czarina, is at first disgusted and then realistically sanguine. What does it matter that Grigory isn't who he says he is? As long as the people believe in him, he could be anyone.

The suddenness of this love affair and the immediacy of the entire play is a bit of detriment to the overall impact of the drama. Moods shift and relationships sour at the drop of a hat, sometimes even the supertitles can't keep up with the lightning pace. But once Boris Godunov settles in, it proves resoundingly pertinent and devastatingly telling.

The Chekhov International Theater Festival, which stages the work, proves a welcome addition to this year's stellar Lincoln Center Festival.