THE SEAGULL - Anton Chekhov

In my family, particularly by my youngest son Bobby, the expression “Chekhov’s Gun” gets quite a bit of a workout. It relates to a narrative principle espoused by Anton Chekhov that every element in a story must be necessary and have a good reason to being incorporated into the story. That is, if there’s a gun on the mantelpiece in Act 1, someone better be shot by the final act.

That’s been modified at our place, so that when a seemingly insignificant detail gets mentioned early in a movie or TV episode, you’ll here him (and sometimes the rest of us) predict… “Chekhov’s guitar string”, “Chekhov’s muesli wrapper,” … Chekhov’s narwal” etc.

And of course, quite aside from that, he is revered as one of the great writers and along with Ibsen one of the fathers of theatre realism. So I approached the next four plays, the four Chekhov plays I’m looking at, with a mix of interest, trepidation and curiosity. Will I like his work? Will I understand his work? Will I understand the hype? Will each play contain a Chekhov’s gun”? Let’s find out.

One of the hallmarks of the realism movement in theatre was to replicate the mundanity of real life. Not to bore people out of the theatres, but to bring people’s real-life, every-day experiences onto the stage. It was a necessary and transformative movement. 

One could argue it is still recognisable in conversations between Tarantino characters in “Reservoir Dogs” and “Pulp Fiction” where characters that might otherwise have been two dimensional bad guys, have mundane but realistic discussions… what is Madonna really saying when she says she felt like a virgin, is Superman or Batman really the most heroic character, is the Royale with Cheese really the same as a quarter pounder? 

Not the best example of realism perhaps, but it hits on the significance of low stakes, verisimilitude somewhat distant from the heroics of Gods and Kings. It’s one aspect of Chekhov’s work that he shoots for - realistic conversations that are similar to ones you have experienced and that sense of being a fly on the wall - and scores. 

The Story

My first reaction after reading this was, I’m going to need to see this. My first reaction after seeing this (and I watched two versions) was, I’m going to need to draw a character map of who’s who. There’s quite a few characters of significance in this play. It’s a bit detailed and you can lose track if you aren’t paying attention (guilty as charged, apparently).

The first plot point that stood out for me was unrequited love and love triangles. MANY triangles. More triangles than a kindergarten band, although thankfully no recorders (sorry Miffy, if you’re reading this). And while I’m not going to summarise in explicit detail the entire plot, here is a picture of just the love details:

• Medvedenko loves Masha unrequitedly. 

• Masha loves Konstantin unrequitedly, but settles for Medvedenko anyway. 

• Konstantin loves Nina unrequitedly. 

• Nina loves Boris. 

• Boris is in a relationship with Konstantin’s mum, Irina, but hooks up with her anyway. 

• Meanwhile Masha’s mum Polina, who is married to Masha’s dad Ilya, is having it off with Dorn, the doctor. 

I feel a bit grubby reducing such a literary classic to “Love Island”, but it’s fair to say there’s a bit going on here. And while it is not likely the main theme Chekhov was trying to make, it’s not nothing.

A slightly better story setup… Irina is a famed actress. Her lover is a famed playwright (that’s actually a thing?). Her son Konstantin is a budding, would-be playwright and the girl he likes, Nina, is a budding, would-be actress. They are staying at a rural property by a lake with Irina’s older brother (Sorin). Present are also the property’s caretaker (Ilya), his wife (Polina) and their daughter (Masha). There’s also a doctor (Dorn) and a teacher (Medvedenko).

Konstantin puts on a play within the play which is quite avante garde and symbolistic and all a bit hard to follow for most (except the Doctor), and so his mum tells him as much. Konstantin believes the quite popular stuff his mother performs in is tired, safe and boring and he begins to detest his mum’s famous playwright paramour. 

Moving his thought to love, rather than showing his love with flowers, Konstantin gives Nina, the girl he is infatuated with, a Seagull he shot. Hmmm. Nina meanwhile dreams of the spotlights but also feels very much at home by the lake where Boris likens her to that seagull that he said was, in a possible story idea, destroyed purely out of boredom. 

There’s a lot more. Essentially the unrequited relationships and unrealised dreams fester amongst this small group. There is a two year time jump in the story and this gives the characters further opportunity to consider paths followed and roads not taken. There is some regret, some forgiveness, some willingness to overlook the past, and some unresolved sadness.

And yes (slight spoiler), Chekhov’s gun is literally used. 

Storytelling and themes

I found this a more complex work than any of the Ibsen plays I read. And it’s all subjective… complex according to who? Well, complex for me and that may well be a measure of my simple theatrical palate. 

It’s also not a criticism. This is quite a clever piece and I enjoyed pitting myself against it and trying to absorb it all. I don’t tend to think of myself as particularly dopey when it comes to literature, but I did struggle a bit here. I think that maybe the multitude of significant themes, overlaid against a multitude of different fleshed out relationships may have stretched me a little. It’s fair to say that it’s a piece of literature dense with detail. Of course, you could argue that theatre should be more immediate and not need such investigation, or being “pitted against it.” and you may be right.

Chekhov (again at least in this play) is very adept at exposing foibles, displaying people and things and people and their dialog as it is, without moral judgement or the need for gotcha consequences to every revealed flaw. There are some easter egg connections to Hamlet (both with the play within the play and in the son displeased that his mother has replaced his dad) and overall I felt there is a subtlety in his movement from plot point to plot point or resolution.

In some of Ibsen’s work I didn’t love how some plot points moved from one to another in an unearned way… foreshadowing followed by instant reveal. Not always, just sometimes. But in “The Seagull” I didn’t find huge ‘behind you’ alerts. There are many overlapping plots and subplots, many of which further emphasising the key themes, but the language and the experiences of the characters rang true. 

I particularly liked the ongoing evolution of The Seagull imagery… first that Nina is like a Seagull drawn to new life and adventure, then that Konstantin shoots a Seagull as a tone deaf gift, then Boris likening that to someone disposing of a Seagull after having no further use for it, then Boris doing that same thing to Nina. That seemed quite layered and I missed it completely when I read the script on its own.

Themes that I felt were the cockiness of the experienced and safe ways, the enthusiasm and uncertainty of new ways, generational misunderstanding, commercialism versus art, the want of things you don’t have, the lack of appreciation of the things you do, dreams and ambitions (including those that don’t eventuate). Obviously, unrequited love is a feature. And there’s probably more than I didn’t get or that hasn’t stuck with me.

Seeing is believing

Like all the plays I’ve read so far (and I realise at some point the more modern and particularly the Australian plays I won’t be able to find video of… but that’s tomorrow’s problem), I found versions of this to watch. 

Sometime last year I saw an entirely updated and rewritten 2022 version on National Theatre at Home. And I didn’t understand any of it at the time. So I’ll come back to that.

I hired on Prime Video (about $5) the 2018 film starring Annette Bening. Shot against a sumptuous countryside witha  real lake and everything, this helped incredibly with piecing together the Who’s Who at the Zoo, which in turn helped also with the understanding of the play. It had benefited from a talented all star cast (including Saoirse Ronan, Corey Stoll, Elisabeth Moss, Mare Winningham, Brian Dennehy among others I was less familiar with) and was more engrossing that I thought it would be based on the script and my previous viewing of the 2020 version. The story was quite linear, clear and easy to follow and their portrayals brought out the characters, the feelings and motivations and the themes quite well.

So I ducked back and had another look at the incredibly different 2022 pro-shot version. Again, an amazing cast (among the actors I was familiar with were Indira Varma, Emilia Clarke, Daniel Monks  and one of my favourite pommy actors, Robert Glenister. 

So many aspects were different to both the written script and the 2018 film (and, I assume, many other films and productions). The stage is completely bare and with all actors on stage the entire time, dragging their seats forward to signify they are in a scene, and moving them around to be out. The dialog is entirely different, totally updated to contemporary British vernacular.. In fact several different British vernaculars (particularly liked Jason Bennet as a right proper geezer, innit), and there is mention of cinemas, digital technology and a bit of swearing not in the original.

I quite enjoyed it the second time around. I think if you’re new to it (as was I the first time) it doesn’t do a great job of connecting you to Chekhov’s original piece, and while the refurbished dialog adds to the realism, the lack of setting and realistic activities (such as the lotto game) reduces that a bit. But all of the themes and interactions are all there, and maybe all the stronger for the modernisation.

Last bits

There’s no disputing that this is a detailed, clever, layered play… one of the great plays. Like Ibsen, it also gave an opportunity for female leads which was at the time outside of the norm. It gave people realistic every day (albeit middle class) conversations and settings that were to some degree recognisable and dealt with themes that resonated with its audience at that tim and space, and ever since.

It’s a play that great actors have made a congo line towards, wanting to give it a crack and have their own spin on this piece of work.

My only disclaimer, and this is almost certainly a flaw in me, the complexity of the piece made it tough for me to drag away a simple summary of what it’s about. It’s about lots of things and is meant to be, but (and I’m learning as I go) I think I prefer a show to impact on me more quickly and maybe have fewer balls in the air. 

It reminded me of jazz music, which I appreciate but am not very much into. Jazz fans and musicians can listen to it and think “ah, E#m, that was a clever choice. I see what you did there.” It’s great that that cleverness is appreciable, but I feel in the first encounter I missed a lot when I was hoping to be instantly moved. But... the point of this project is to encounter great works, and be challenged. So that's two ticks for "The Seagull.".

In some ways, I feel like a novice hitting the big leagues. Any lack of getting it or appreciating it instantly are flaws on my part. I enjoyed it each time I saw it and I think now that I understand it better and know what I’m seeing, I’ll enjoy it more if I see it again. Would it work in Goulburn? Again, anything could… we have incredible actors, directors and creatives. I think I’d like to see something that took the updated textual approach of the 2022 pro-shot version (sign me up, willing directors), but retaining a lot more visual queues to guide and deepen the experience.

 A great work.

Materials accessed:

• "The Seagull" - script. Available many places, here is a free option from Project Gutenberg.
• "The Seagull" - movie (2018). Available for hire on Prime Video.
• "The Seagull" - pro-shot video (2022). Available by subscription on National Theatre at Home.