By Blake Morrison. Directed by Sandra Ferens. A United Players of Vancouver production. At the Jericho Arts Centre on Friday, June 7. Continues until June 30

This amateur production of We Are Three Sisters is generally solid, but Blake Morrison’s script imitates Anton Chekhov’s Three Sisters so closely—and to so little effect—that it could be retitled This Is Three Sisters, But Not the One You Want to See.

Morrison’s version, which premiered in the U.K. in 2011, replaces Chekhov’s Prozorov siblings—Olga, Masha, and Irina—with the Brontë sisters, novelists Anne, Charlotte, and Emily. Chekhov had read of the Brontës before writing Three Sisters and, intriguingly, their lives may have helped to inspire his script. So, academically, Morrison’s venture is justified.

But does We Are Three Sisters stand on its own merit artistically? Not so much. Morrison’s story differs from Chekhov’s in some ways—the sisters in Chekhov’s play aren’t novelists and their father is dead, while the Brontës’ is living—but so many details of Morrison’s play echo the Russian master’s that spotting the similarities becomes distracting.

Morrison copies Chekhov on every scale: the Prozorov women long for Moscow and the Brontës for London; Anne, the youngest Brontë, romanticizes a life of work just as Chekhov’s young Irina does; and while Natasha, the interloper in Three Sisters, wears a green belt that causes comment, Lydia, the one in We Are Three Sisters, wears a green dress that makes a stir. The imitation goes on and on.

In the process, the philosophical scale is reduced. Chekhov’s play, which is about the fragility of the fictions we create in order to sustain happiness, is an existential exploration. Morrison, on the other hand, makes the obvious point that women must be encouraged to engage their intellectual and artistic gifts. There’s no fresh insight here, and no compelling emotional framing.

Undeterred by working with a pale imitation of a classic work, director Sandra Ferens and her team deliver a production that’s admirable in many ways.

Olesia Shewchuk makes an elegantly contained Charlotte, MariaLuisa Alvarez is a credibly passionate Emily, and Victoria Lyons is particularly moving as the tender, frustrated Anne. Douglas Abel makes sense of the lonely, drunken Doctor and Emma Middleton captures the Yorkshire humour in Tabby, the maid.

Carolyn Rapanos’s simple set—tasteful furniture, three tall windows—demonstrates how much visual impact a designer can have working within a limited budget. Similarly, young costumer Elliott Squire impresses with his tight palette—mostly grey, white, and brown—and lovely designs. Graham Ockley’s lighting and Neil Griffith’s sound are effectively restrained.

Director Ferens brings all of this together, of course, and although some of her choices—including stylized movement sequences—are questionable, there’s an interesting sensibility at work here.

If only there were a more interesting script.