The Guardian

Checkov smoulders

The Seagull
The Swan, Stratford-upon-Avon

***

 Michael Billington

Thursday February 3, 2000

 

In 1896 Chekhov's play had a disastrous

first night in St Petersburg. In

Stratford-upon-Avon it nearly had an

incendiary one. In the first act the curtains

of Konstantin's mock-theatre brushed

against candle-flame and caught fire.

Prompt action by the production manager,

Jasper Gilbert, who leapt up on stage and

put out the fire prevented the flames

spreading and may well have helped save

this beautiful wooden theatre. After 10

minutes or so, the play resumed but it

was an unnerving experience for actors

and audience alike.

 

But how did you enjoy the play, Mrs

Lincoln? In the circumstances, it is

difficult to say but I feel Adrian Noble's

production is a mixed affair. It is full of

acute detail, heightens the play's

Hamletesque references and has a very

Russian sense of atmosphere. Gulls cry,

the wind sighs in the trees, waves lap

against the lake shore. There is also a

heartstopping moment when the

characters sit and listen to the sound of

distant music and laughter. It not only

evokes past happiness but achingly

counterpoints the lovelorn sadness that

taints Chekhov's people.

 

If there is a reservation in my voice, it has

to do with the need for the RSC to revive

The Seagull so soon after Terry Hands's

superlative production in The Swan.

Without wishing to be ageist, Noble's cast

is also, in several crucial cases, much

older than Chekhov states -something that

may not matter in Shakespeare but that is

important in realistic drama. The novelist,

Trigorin, is meant to be under 40. Nigel

Terry, however, presents us with a

grizzled figure who makes up for in energy

what he lacks in youth. Dorn, the debonair

doctor, is only 55. As played by Richard

Johnson he becomes an older figure full of

grave melancholy.

 

In the case of Penelope Wilton's superb

Arkadina, however, age is simply

irrelevant. Wilton presents us with an

instantly recognisable figure - the

dedicated, self-centred actress

determined to keep professional or sexual

rivals at bay. When she hisses at her son

that his symbolist play is "decadent" it is

because she senses a threat to her own

conventional style of theatre. And when

she tells Nina "I'm sure you must have

talent" it is with the casual disdain of

someone who spies a potential erotic

challenge.

 

Wilton does not judge Arkadina. She

shows how talent is always accompanied

by insecurity. Justine Waddell's Nina also

presents a genuine threat. She has

beauty, spirit and the single-minded

intensity of the genuinely ambitious. She

also makes sense of that treacherous last

act where Nina returns emotionally

devastated but determined to endure.

There is much in Noble's production, as

well as Peter Gill's new version, to admire.

But it needs time to mature before it sets

out on a UK tour - and fireproof curtains.