Kristin Scott Thomas in Chekhov's The Seagull
British Production Soars on Broadway
By: Charles Giuliano - Sep 30, 2008
The Seagull
By Anton Chekhov
A new version by Christopher Hampton; Directed by Ian Rickson; Scenic and Costume Design, Hildegard Berchtler; Lighting, Peter Mumford: Sound, Ian Dickinson; Composer, Stephen Warbeck; Production Stage Manager, Arthur Gaffin; U.K. Casting, Lisa Makin, U.S. Casting, Jim Carnahan, C.S.A., Press, Boneau/Bryan-Brown.
Starring: Kristin Scott Thomas (Arkadina), Peter Sarsgaard (Trigorin), Mackenzie Crook (Konstantin), Christopher Patrick Nolan (Yakov), Zoe Kazan (Masha), Pearce Quigley (Medvedenko), Peter Wight (Sorin), Carey Mulligan (Nina), Anna Dowd (Polina), Art Malik (Dorn), Julian Gamble (Shamareyev), Mary Rose (A Housemaid), Mark Montgomery (The Cook). The Royal Court Theatre production presented at the Walter Kerr Theatre, 219 West 48th Street, NYC through December 21
http://www.seagulltheplay.com
A flawless production of Anton Chekhov's "The Seagull," which originated in London at the Royal Court Theatre, has roosted, through December 21, on Broadway at the Walter Kerr Theatre. While Kristin Scott Thomas won the Olivier Award as Best Actress for her stunning performance as Arkadina, an actress of a certain age, everyone in the remarkable cast is equally deserving of recognition. Every aspect of this once in a lifetime production meshes with the perfection of the finest Swiss watch.
A rather long evening in four acts with one intermission flew by in an absorbing blur. That's saying a lot for Chekhov. For once, that greatest of rarities, we truly sensed the fully comic aspects of the tragedy. Not to imply that the production reached for laughs, rather the humor evolved from the very nature of human folly.
This new version of the play, which was written in 1896, probes deeply into the very substance and challenge of art and creativity. Borrowing broadly from Hamlet, a source of inspiration for the Russian playwright, we have the device of a play within a play, as well as actors and writers reflecting on their own failures and limitations. Chekhov revealed the inner workings of his mind and soul through the struggles and delusions of the characters. Or, as Freud would say of our most complex dreams, we are indeed all of the characters. Rarely do we penetrate more deeply into the psyche of an artist than in this play which has been rendered so crisply and brilliantly.
What is most admirable is that this "new version" by Christopher Hampton seems ever so faithful to its original time and place. It is a bit disconcerting that the actors are British, and struggle now and then to glibly enunciate those complex Russian names, but despite the challenge of pronunciation this play feels thoroughly and uniquely Russian. There is that impossibly difficult balance between the intensely morbid and tragic, the strong brew of the brooding emotional samovar, but sweetened with the syrup of irony and humor. There is that daunting challenge of plunging into the heart of darkness with a light and giddy flair.
In every aspect the self absorbed, arrogant, and domineering Arkadina is the center of the vortex of actions that swirl about her. She is a charming and charismatic monster. There are constant references to how she might, with the slightest tokens of generosity, make the lives of her family more bearable. Just a modest donation would allow her brother Sorin (Peter Wright) to escape the bleak winter on his squalid estate for the season in the city. Just a bit of money would sustain her struggling son, Konstantin (Mackenzie Crook), who aspires to be a playwright. It would not take much to buy him some decent clothes.
But every plea for support is met with the sweeping protest from Arkadina that "I have no money. I am an actress." And that she needs her resources for the travel and wardrobe that her profession demands. She is not even capable of supporting Konstantin's ambitions as an artist. Following a performance in the garden of his avant-garde play portrayed by the adolescent beauty, Nina (Carey Mulligan), she ridicules him with vicious laughter.
There are so many mismatched love triangles that at times the play evokes the vectors of a game of billiards. Everyone seems in love with and rejected by the wrong person. This futile frenzy of romance and libido produces much of the ironic humor of this complex tragedy. These range from broadly comic mismatches to ones so fine tuned and nuanced that they agonizingly nearly work.
This is most poignantly conveyed in the longing of Konstantin for his collaborator Nina. He has nothing to offer her other than a part in his fragile and desperate play which was the subject of so much cruel ridicule from his mother. It is also Chekhov's plaintive quest for something new and bold in art. A longing to break away from the traditions that in late Czarist Russia were particularly oppressive. As a realist Chekhov was progressive for his time but in his failed play Konstantin conveys a striving for more radical, poetic and symbolist works of art.
In being willing to perform in his little play Nina shows faith in the ideals of art but is too innocent and inexperienced to bring them to fruition. She longs for Arkadina's recognition and support for her ambitions on the stage. But the older actress rightly sees the ingénue as competition. Trigorin (Peter Sarsgaard), a mediocre but popular and successful writer, is the lover of Arkadina but has eyes for the vulnerable Nina.
He sees in her not just the object of desire but also the theme for a short story. "A young girl lives all of her life on the shore of a lake. She loves the lake, like a seagull, and she's happy and free, like a seagull. But a man arrives by chance. And when he sees her, he destroys her, out of sheer boredom. Like this seagull."
Dorn (Art Malik) the womanizing doctor had first suggested that their romantic foibles were evoked by the spirits of the lake. Nina had described herself as the seagull: A spirit as free as a bird. Out of frustration and boredom Konstantin shot the bird. It is this analogy which inspired the weak and kept Trigorin to devour, seduce, and ultimately destroy the free spirit of Nina. By the dénouement of the final act their hearts and souls are as lifeless and stuffed as the embalmed bird.
Most compellingly there was wonderful attention to detail in this production. No more so than in the superb sets and costumes by Hildegard Bechtler. The simple set was cleverly designed to be modified by adding and subtracting panels to start with a scene outdoors and then to a parlor which later evolved as the barren writing room of the aspiring Konstantin. From our vantage point in the mezzanine one was aware of the wide planks of the rustic floor of the faded farm house on a run down estate. It evoked shabby decay and Chekhov's great metaphor for the last gasp of the Ancien Regime. How incredible to note that the despair that he evoked so poetically was about to become even more desperate. Life in Russia would soon devolve from bad to worse.
In January, Janos Szasz will stage what will surely be an avant-garde deconstruction of "The Seagull" for the American Repertory Theatre. We will look forward to that challenge and opportunity. But I rather doubt that it will alter my conviction that this Royal Court production of "The Seagull" was the experience of a lifetime. I cannot recall a more satisfying evening of Chekhov.