A daring effort... but this Seagull fails to soar
Play brings Chekhov into the modern day
There’s never much of a problem explaining the plot of a Chekhov play, because there usually isn’t one. You get a group of people who unfold their characters gradually, but you can never be totally sure what’s going on underneath.
The Seagull is a comedy to the extent that it can be amusing to see characters deluding themselves about their abilities, or desperate to make something of their lives and not succeeding. Funny but sad, even tragic. It might account for the disastrous first performance of the play in 1896 when the audience was expecting a genuine comedy.
This latest version, by Corn Exchange, introduces a change that’s presumably meant to show how the play can work in a modern setting. Konstantin, the gloomy son of the actress Arkadina (here called Eileen Arkadina), has been changed to a daughter, Constance. But doing that with Chekhov is not so easy, especially in a play where so many characters love somebody who doesn’t love them. Even one change can unravel things.
For instance, if this is the brave new world of modern Ireland, why does the young girl Masha decide to marry the boring teacher? And why is an important incident about the possible relationship between Masha and Doctor Dorn dropped altogether?
To make the same-sex point quickly, the would-be writer Constance (Jane McGrath, known to Red Rock fans as Garda Sharon Cleere) is slobbering all over young Nina from the very beginning, although Nina is actually infatuated with the successful author and womaniser Trigorin. One might at least expect a slightly more restrained display from Constance. The low point is when later, alone on stage, she sings a dreary dirge about her misery. Talk about restraint.
The comedy aspects are generally handled well, especially in the first half. Stephen Brennan, as the arthritic Sorin, is a past master at getting the most out of a comic role while staying firmly in character, and Derbhle Crotty, as Arkadina, chews it up as an admittedly over-the-top, tantrum-throwing drama queen.
Genevieve Hulme-Beaman turns in a captivating turn as the naïve Nina, soon to be disenchanted with the glamour of fame. She’s undefeated, but still sees herself as the dead, stuffed seagull of the title. The performances were generally good, but overall the production never quite gelled into a satisfying whole.