Review of ‘Seagull: True Story: “New Chekhov-themed play screeches more than it soars”

The Marylebone Theatre hosts the world premiere of Eli Rarey’s newest play, based on the real-life experiences of director Alexander Molochnikov and his advocacy for artistic liberty. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if this double bill of comedy and political denouncement defies gravity or should wait in the wings.

It wouldn’t be too far-fetched to say we live in a time where freedom of speech is at its highest stake — at least, in recent years. We could argue that both sides of the political spectrum are to blame, and we wouldn’t be wrong to do so. Cancel culture has clung to our current rhetoric like a parasite, spreading its venom so vastly that it’s become reason’s new death pill. It doesn’t matter who’s right and who’s wrong — we can no longer antagonize through words but by eradicating them instead. Jimmy Kimmel is the latest addition to this forever-incomplete list. The one below is simply one more tale of the same crypt.

You may not have noticed, despite the title’s subtle innuendo, but this story actually happen. If you’re hard of reading or just willingly choose to ignore the names of the shows you’re going to see (everyone is welcome), they will make sure you don’t miss how authentic this piece is supposed to be — and I couldn’t stress the ‘supposed’ bit enough. Director and real-life protagonist Alexander Molochnikov makes a cameo appearance during the performance’s opening, inviting us to embark on this transatlantic journey of independent thinking and artistic integrity. It’s a gripping premise that couldn’t align better with the contemporary zeitgeist. The issue, however, is that it never takes off.

February 2022. One of the leading theatres in Moscow is in rehearsals for a new production of Chekhov’s timeless masterpiece, The Seagull. An up-and-coming director eagerly awaits his premiere, anxious to share his vision with the world. But things take a sour turn after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine: sudden economic hardships, ideological turmoil, and above it all, the omnipresent clutch of censorship starts to take its toll. Suddenly, they are required to make changes to the play — everything that challenges the regime must go; otherwise, there will be no show. Frustrated and overpowered by his own anger, the director will publicly denounce the government’s practices — suffice to say that none of what follows is too pretty.

There is so much potential in this concept, but you probably won’t get to experience it while sitting through this bland spectacle of coarse writing and dramatic inefficiency. A nonreactive mixture of predictable humour and unemotional tragedy creates this rarely entertaining narrative — plagued with shallow or even nonexistent character arcs, underdeveloped plot elements, and an overly linear approach that erases all possibilities of resonance and audience investment.

There are as many dad jokes as one can take over the course of an evening — this one provided us with supplies for a few reincarnations. As a comedy, it very rarely works, to the extent of shamelessly crossing the line between the dull and the annoying. When it tries to adopt a more serious tone, all its attempts are futile. There’s virtually no pathos despite the story’s natural gravitas. Here, we have a man fleeing his home country and becoming a refugee in New York, as he learns that one of his closest friends and colleagues has been captured and brutally tortured. It doesn’t take a magic ball to foresee what’s about to take place — what’s surprising is how little we care about it.

Sadly, this lack of depth prevails and permeates every angle of the material. The structure is flawed and clumsily paced. Both acts conclude with next to no climax. And although the script’s failure to amuse persists throughout the whole recount, the overall feeling is of a rushed, roughly sketched draft where none of its aspects have matured sufficiently to be put onstage.

The company doesn’t help to counterbalance the text’s clunkiness, most unfortunately. There is a sense of rapport among its members, but not true character chemistry. On the whole, the portrayals are flat and devoid of nuance, with some resorting to unnecessary hyperbolic tools that only accentuate their shortcomings in layering and credibility.  Lead actor Daniel Boyd makes a decent exception through his more pragmatic take on the role. Yet, the performance’s confusing array of accents (with some so-called Russians coming across as English or American) compromises any actor’s accomplishment in terms of genuineness.

We can still find a redeeming feature in the production values, whose staging excels through its intricacy and precision. A false cabaret proscenium, accompanied by two dressing rooms on each side, serves as both the play’s visual and narrative framework; obviously, drawing inspiration from Kander and Ebb’s classic musical. An ingenious use of props, combined with clever blocking and detailed lighting, concoct a highly evocative atmosphere that effortlessly transports us into the picture it so effectively paints.

Despite the brilliance of its design, Seagull: True Story struggles to bring more than a flock of raw ideas — showing a clear intention of what it aims for but proving itself clueless about how to walk that distance. With a generally heavy-handed execution, the significance of its themes may connect with the viewers, but individually, the piece can’t offer anything in that department. As Chekhov himself once put it, “a writer is a man who has signed a contract with his conscious and his sense of duty.” Wistfully, this work comes off as a breach of that treaty.

All pictures credit to Marc Senior.

Seagull: True Story plays at London’s Marylebone Theatre until 12 October. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara