History has been kind to Lao She’s epic Teahouse, which actor Yang Lixin describes as “the very best drama in Chinese drama history”. A hit—and an emblem of revolutionary resilience—when first produced by the Beijing People’s Art Theatre in 1957, it was condemned by Maoist extremists and exiled from the stage during the turbulent years of the Cultural Revolution. Almost a decade passed before it was seen again, but it’s been restored to prominence both at home and abroad—Teahouse was what Chinese cultural authorities chose to send to Expo 86, for example. Now it’s returning to Vancouver after 30 years, still under the auspices of the BPAT.

Lao She himself was not so lucky. After being publicly mocked and beaten by members of the Red Guards, the playwright and novelist drowned himself in Beijing’s Taiping Lake in the summer of 1966. He was just one of thousands of artists and intellectuals reviled and broken during that era of upheaval, but his story of the years that shaped him has survived—and, as China increases its global reach, Teahouse has gained even more significance.

The story unfolds over half a century, with Yang—playing the well-intentioned landlord and capitalist Qin Zhongyi—at the heart of all three scenes.

The first passage is set during the late stages of the Qing dynasty, at the time of the Hundred Days’ Reform, Yang explains, speaking in Mandarin from Beijing with the assistance of local translator Vivian Wang. “He goes to the teahouse to check on his property,” says the veteran actor, who is even better known for his film roles than for his stage career. “At that time he was pretty rich: he also has land in the country and other houses in the city. He’s thinking to sell off his properties and buy a factory or a bank to offer job opportunities to local people. So he had a big dream: he wanted to save the country, and save the people.”

Some of Qin’s dreams come true, for a while. Although the reforms of the late 1800s fail, he successfully opens his businesses. But by the time of the war between Mao Zedong’s Communist forces and Chiang Kai-shek’s Kuomintang, Qin—like China itself—has been impoverished by strife.

“Mr. Qin’s factory and bank have closed, and he’s gone back to being a vendor, just selling little goods to support his life,” Yang says. “So he goes back to the teahouse and meets the owner, Wang Lifa. Both of them are already very old, and they speak together and review their whole lives, and the teahouse’s life.”

The period of the action—from 1898 to 1948—parallels Lao’s life; the playwright was born in 1899. But it is not an autobiographical work, Yang stresses; for that, one must look to Lao’s unfinished and as yet untranslated novel Under the Red Flag. “In Teahouse,” the actor says, “he delivered a snapshot reflecting the Beijing people’s lifestyle.”

Things have clearly changed since Lao’s untimely suicide: life in modern Beijing is far too fast-paced, Yang notes, for the leisurely discussion of politics or philosophy over tea. But as both a theatrical construction and a powerful historical overview, Teahouse remains essential viewing.

“It is the diamond in the crown of China’s theatre and opera area,” Yang says of Lao’s masterpiece, which will be presented in Mandarin with English surtitles. “And it should be a very successful show, because we have a lot of famous artists in the cast.”

The Beijing People’s Art Theatre presents Teahouse at the Centre in Vancouver for Performing Arts on Thursday and Friday (November 10 and 11).