February 10, 2014
The GazetteFebruary 7, 2014
By Pat Donnelly
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Ace acting from modern Chekhov players makes retelling of The Seagull as relevant as ever
MONTREAL — Modern dress Shakespeare is commonplace. Modern dress Chekhov, not so much.
To fully appreciate what director Peter Hinton and his stellar cast have accomplished with the updated version of Anton Chekhov’s The Seagull, now playing at the Segal Centre, it helps to know that the last significant Canadian adaptation of the play, by David French, was produced at Tarragon Theatre in 1977, back when Chekhov was enjoying a surge of popularity in North America.
On paper, Hinton’s adaptation may not survive the test of time as well as French’s. There are a few too many cheap laugh lines. (Which do serve to keep the audience awake for the three-hours-plus duration.) But it is ideally suited to this astutely cast production.
As something of a Chekhov purist, it was with trepidation that I contemplated the stack of plastic garden chairs centre stage on designer Eo Sharp’s sprawling set. But Hinton’s approach is clear and consistent from the moment that Masha (Krista Colosimo) runs in, wearing shorts, pursued by an eager Medvedenko (Andrew Shaver), anxious to know why she always wears black. He gets the usual answer: “I am unhappy. I’m in mourning for my life.”
His response — “You can’t live on Spam,” — prepares the ear for the generous dose of anachronisms to come. The ill-kept country residence is labelled a “tear-down.”
And so on.
When budding young playwright Constantine (Patrick Costello) tells his aunt, retired judge Sorina (Diane D’Aquila), that his theatrical diva mother goes “ballistic” every time she hears the name Helen Mirren, this gets a laugh. It’s probably much the same kind of a laugh that Chekhov got when he dropped the name Eleonora Duse, a star of his time.
While I remained somewhat skeptical until intermission, I succumbed during Hinton’s snowy segue into Act Four I. So much takes place so quickly and so beautifully during this brilliant coup de théâtre.
Shannon Currie’s luminescent Nina shivers, dissolves and breaks in fast-forward, as years pass through her. (Her awkward crotch-flashing moments of the first act are forgotten.)
Overall, this is an ace acting team in top form.
As Arkadina, an actor of great ego, some talent and zero maternal instinct, Lucy Peacock is Mommy-Dearest horrifying, charming and hilariously funny by turns. While the buffoonish estate manager Shamraev (Michel Perron) rants on about not having a spare vehicle, she sits, bouncing on an exercise ball, ignoring his complaints. Meanwhile, the nonchalant guitar-strumming doctor (Patrick McManus) sings about being a free man in Paris, à la Joni Mitchell.
But it’s Diane d’Aquila as Sorina who faces the greater task of crossing gender (in the original Sorin was a man), while creating a deeply moving character true to past and present. She even manages to rise above the sit-com quip, “Here comes the judge!”
As Constantine, Costello melts down with a suitably poetic intensity not quite matched by vocal projection skills, flying high as a kite one moment, dropping into despondency the next. Like Colosimo’s pot-smoking Masha, he’s as familiar as the wannabe rock star next door.
Marcel Jeannin smoothly taps the delusional complexities of Trigorin, the celebrated minor author controlled by one woman and infatuated with another.
This may not be the most profound The Seagull I’ve ever seen, but its style is distinct, its entertainment quotient is high and Chekhov’s ideas on art remain as relevant as ever.
The Seagull, by Anton Chekhov, adapted and directed by Peter Hinton, until Feb. 19 at the Segal Centre, 5170 Côte-Ste-Catherine Rd. Tickets $49, senior $44, student $24. Call 514-739-7944 or visit www.segalcentre.org