The Seagull

I must have seen Chekhov’s brilliant play half a dozen times and each time his elusive, guileless style of writing – no matter how adapted or tangled – wins through. First performed in 1896 Russia, and now in a full-on Australian adaptation by Saro Lusty-Cavallari set in 2020, the early days of the recent COVID experience, The Seagull remains outstandingly witty and lively. Directed lustily by its adapter, this 9-character play has come to the little Broadway space in Sydney for a two-week stay, which I fully recommend.

Now the group, a creative family plus others, are hunkered down against the dreaded disease in Belligan, northern NSW, spending their time on this and that, just waiting for the worst to pass. But for how long must they wait? 

Irene (Deborah Jones) is the leader of the group. An actress of some standing, she’s bored of the present company and just wants to get on with her career. She’s brought along her son Constantine (Saro Lepejian), a writer of sorts, trying hard to express himself in this ‘backwards company’, and her current boyfriend Alex (Shan-Ree Tan), younger and getting on with new projects. Also in the troupe is her father Peter (Tim McGarry), who’s steady progress towards complete break-down doesn’t help matters.

And then there’s Nina (Alexandra Travers), a pretty girl starting out on a stage career. We watch as she watches, sizing people up, especially when, like Constantine, they bring a dead seagull to the home after casually shooting it while out walking. 

All this comes with much lively talk and many languid words from Irene who is loved/hated by everyone. As the time passes, so we become aware of lives lost and events crushing the characters. The seagull is an innocent bird killed by human indifference.

The large cast work hard to create the right mood. There’s a big scene change in the middle of each act, and the entire cast pitch in. Beautifully choreographed, with exactly the right bits of furniture arriving at the right moment, it’s a triumph for everyone.

The entire cast, led by Deborah Jones, acquit themselves brilliantly in this excellent version of the 1896 play, just as Anton Chekhov would have wanted it. Bravo, Saro Lusty-Cavallari! 

Frank Hatherley

Images: Robert Miniter Photography