THE SEAGULL | ROYAL LYCEUM, EDINBURGH
★★★
“Quentin is a vainglorious delight…”
Caroline Quentin gives a hilarious and strangely sympathetic turn as the aristocratic but now fading star of stage Irina Arkadina in The Seagull, by Anton Chekhov, James Brining’s first production as artistic director of Edinburgh’s Royal Lyceum.
Written in 1895, at a time when Russian theatre was undergoing a transformation (melodrama, then the staple of the stage, was slowly being eschewed in favour of a more ‘modern’ and realistic style of characterisation), The Seagull, which finds followers of both schools of thought addressing the question, ‘What is theatre?’, was at the vanguard of that change.
Set on a country estate that has known better days, simmering desires, ambitions and regrets quickly rise to the fore as family and friends gather for the latest work by tormented young playwright, Konstantin, son of the once vaunted Arkadina, who is in attendance with her much younger lover, the celebrated writer Trigorin.
If love is in the air, its unrequited nature is another major theme of the play; lowly school teacher Medvedenko is in love with Masha, the daughter of cantankerous estate manager Shamrayev, played with indignant bluster by Steven McNicoll, however, Masha is saving her affections for Konstantin who in turn only has eyes for Nina, his muse, and so it continues, the estate a bubbling hotbed of desire and heartache.
When Konstantin’s attempt to ‘revolutionise theatre’ falls flat, he’s left bereft to discover his precious Nina is drawn to his greatest rival and lover of his mother, Trigorin, with ultimately tragic consequences.
The Seagull is a notoriously difficult production to get right. Written as a comedy, with themes including suicide, it’s hard to find the correct balance; played wholly as a tragedy it can prove a turgid two and a bit hours or descend into an exercise in overly indulgent, angst ridden navel gazing.
Thankfully, in this dark and at times laugh out loud funny adaptation by Mike Poulton, Brining directs with pace and a surety of vision that enables both comedy and tragedy to hold equal sway. At times, that allows the production to soar high, although at others the action swoops into the very melodrama Chekhov was striving to replace.
Leading the ensemble company, Quentin is a vainglorious delight as a matriarch impervious to the feelings of those around her. Self obsessed, condescending and with a put down in every compliment, she plays the comedy with the knowing innocence of a woman who is always in the spotlight; life her greatest performance.
Supporting her with strong turns are John Bett, ever watchable as Irina’s charmingly loquacious brother, the ageing estate owner Sorin, and Forbes Masson, whose Dr Dorn is a nicely distracted creature with hidden depths. Elsewhere, Irene Allan puts in a very enjoyable shift as Polina, while Harmony Rose-Bremner captivates as Nina.
The problem with this adaptation is that with so many characters, each has to hit their stride immediately to prevent the whole affair feeling bitty, this doesn’t happen, never quite manage to hit their stride. The gulf of experience between the actors too is noticeable and while the execution of the comedy of the piece is skilfully delivered, the tragedy is less so.
Colin Richmond and Anna Kelsey’s bright, spacious set ingeniously transforms the action from scene to scene without ever losing its nobility, albeit fading, while Madeleine Boyd’s costume designs are picture box perfect.
At one time a repertory theatre favourite, The Seagull sits well upon the Royal Lyceum stage but there is an irony in it’s subject matter, ‘theatre stuck in the past’, even if many of its points remain as pertinent today as they did in the 19th Century.
Until 1 November. Tickets here.
