Review by Daz Gale
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
A new adaptation of the timeless classic ‘The Seagull’ flies into the Barbican Theatre this week for a strictly limited run and boasting an impressive star cast. In all my years of theatregoing, surprisingly I had never seen a production of this before and knew it was one to Chekhov my list, but would this production be able to shoot to kill or be a misfire?
Set at a country estate, The Seagull sees a family caught up in a storm of conflicting desires, with the overbearing actress mother and her struggling playwright son getting themselves tangled in a web with their own love interests as ambition and various affections make the whole thing get increasingly messy.
From the opening moments, it becomes clear this is Chekhov as you’ve never seen him before. The fourth wall is obliterated immediately as the immortal line “Who’s up for a bit of Chekhov?” is bellowed into the audience, setting the tone for what’s to follow… in one way, at least. The tone proves changeable throughout with much of the story played to the audience with a knowing wink, only to then take the story seriously, leaving your heart in your mouth in several tense scenes where you really could hear a pin drop. The volatility of this changing tone demands the audience pay attention and never get too comfortable as you never know just when you may be stopped in your tracks midway through a seemingly light-hearted moment.
In their new version of Chekhov’s classic, Duncan Macmillan and Thomas Ostermeier have ripped up the rulebook to put their own stamp on the story while retaining the very essence of the original. It is a bold and somewhat risky approach but it works sensationally well with modern dialogue, musical performances and an added focus on the theatrical aspect all leading for an exhilarating watch. With theatre one of the key themes in this production, lines chastising the nature and point of theatre, the use of reviews and even a reference to press night makes the whole thing feel very meta. In an innovative way to tell the story, The Seagull really soars to dizzying heights throughout.
Having conceived this adaptation, Thomas Ostermeier also directs the piece, further emphasising the use of theatre in the story. The use of microphones is reminiscent of several other productions we have seen late though works better than the ones where this felt nothing more than a gimmick. The crucial key to the success of this tool is that they are used sparingly and is just one part of a wide variety of creative choices Ostermeier uses to execute his vision. One inspired moment sees Arkadina (Cate Blanchett) rip off her mic pack and speak softly, completely unaided, in one truly captivating moment. Given the vast space of the Barbican, the fact you could hear her crystal clearly was a testament to the skill of all involved, with Tom Gibbons’ sound design continually impressing.
Magda Willi’s set design consists predominantly of a small field placed in the centre of the stage where all characters enter and exit in a glorious piece of both design and direction. The rest of the fairly spacious Barbican stage is left mostly empty, aside from a large screen filling the entire space, and lending itself to some gorgeous lighting effects from Bruno Poet including a stunning sequence with shadows. This production of The Seagull is minimalistic in certain respects but not overall though it is far from overblown, finding a sweet spot somewhere in the middle that allows the writing to shine as well as its jaw-droppingly good cast.
The biggest and most memorable performance comes from Cate Blanchett who is truly mesmerising as Irina Arkadina. In a demanding performance, Blanchett wows as the celebrated actress in a performance that has her singing, tap-dancing and doing the splits. Her embodiment of the role is a testament to her phenomenal talents as an actress with her own larger-than-life star causing for lines to be blurred, adding to the believability of this often eccentric individual. The versatility required for her in this performance has some beautiful, vulnerable moments mixed in with her more anarchic characteristics. Though there are large periods where she isn’t seen on stage, Blanchett is never far from memory in an outstanding performance.
Emma Corrin similarly has a lot of differing qualities to unpack as Nina. Their sweet, seemingly innocent nature in the early scenes of The Seagull paves way for a tragic figure in the show’s climax in one of the most striking performance in the play. Jason Watkins is a comic highlight as Sorin who somehow has the knack for immaculate comedy timing, even when he is on his death bed. Tom Burke balances the larger-than-life characters with a more calm, neutral demeanour as Trigorin, while Zachary Hunt has a rather unique role as Simon, getting several rocking performances along the way.
The most spell-binding performance for me came from Kodi Smit-McPhee, impressively making his professional stage debut as Konstantin. As the haunted playwright, he is utterly gripping, never needing to exaggerate his actions to make his emotions abundantly clear. Though he is playing alongside some of the acting greats, he more than holds his own with a stage presence that ensures all eyes are on him. His scenes with both Blanchett’s Irina and Corrin’s Nina are, without doubt, the most thrilling of the entire play.
Ripping up the rulebook to create a bold, ambitious and innovative new production of a classic can usually lead to a strong reaction, very rarely eliciting a middling response. In that respect, it can be a huge risk and one that didn’t go down too well for a recent West End opening whose response was, shall we say, less than elektrik. That is not a problem this fresh adaptation of The Seagull has. With inspired choices and a great mix of comedy and tragedy, this is a production that captivates and thrills throughout. If we are to use Chekhov’s gun as an example of its success, The Seagull absolutely kills it, blowing away the competition.
The Seagull plays at Barbican Theatre until 5th April. Tickets from www.barbican.org.uk
Photos by Marc Brenner