Hurry to the Modern Theatre, next to the
Paramount downtown, because the Harbor Stage Company has brought its lovely,
quirky, condensed production of THE SEAGULL to Boston for this weekend only (through
Sept. 22nd).
If you’re expecting languorous, reverential
Chekhov, director Robert Kropf’s adaptation is not. In fact, if it were not for
the mention of Moscow, you might think it takes
place in America.
Kropf jettisons subtext (and several characters) for a visceral, transparent
emotional energy which drives (and dooms) the characters. The acting,
especially, is more contemporary than the usual stylized elegance we’ve come to
associate (mistakenly, I think) with Chekhov.
Everyone wears his heart on his sleeve,
making Kropf’s adaptation a lot funnier than some (and Chekhov did insist that
all his plays were comedies) and a lot brasher than most. See it for Brenda
Withers’ conniving, imperious actress, mother to the tortured young writer,
played with twitchy, feral intensity by Alex Pollock. See it for Stacy
Fischer’s hilarious turn as the depressed Masha, “dragging her life behind
her.”
Masha is hopelessly in love with the actress’
son but he is in love with someone else who’s in love with someone else who’s….
They all are, except for the doctor, portrayed by Lewis D. Wheeler as an
eminently sensible chap who finds all the intrigue amusing.
The summer residents suffer from the heat and
the boredom and the pain of rejection. Jonathan Fielding as the famous poet is
tired of writing and weary of his lover’s histrionics when an earnest, innocent
creature, played with sweet fragility by Amanda Collins, takes an interest in
him. He fans the flame and the delicate balance of relationships, never steady
in the first place, begins to tip.
