The Seagull' takes flight

There are certain shows that take your entire perception of theater and hand it back to you as an entirely different, entirely spectacular commodity. Liberation! Films' production of The Seagull, at the Institute of Contemporary Art (ICA), does just that. Words such as beautiful, innovative and, at moments, even brilliant come to mind when attempting to explain this hour and forty five minute pleasure.

In act one, the struggling writer Konstantin turns to his uncle and remarks how "the stage today is unremarkable and predictable... We need new theater, new forms and if not, then it's better not to have theater at all." Well, that might be a bit harsh. After all, some works of art should remain sacred, preserved under the watchful eye of museum dossiers. Yet, let us be thankful that The Seagull is not one of them.

Mediums such as song, dance and a special chalk art appearance were all utilized as tools in order to further the movement of the play. And, for those unfamiliar with the "pains of living" plot of The Seagull, it is no "Grease lighting" joy ride.

Truly a multimedia production, the play surprised from the start, taking the setting of turn of the century Russia and both spicing and slicing it up to fit modern day audiences. Slicing may be a bit too strong of a word, considering that the text remained unchanged, but also consider that after hearing Radiohead humming in the background in one of his scenes, Chekhov may very well have turned in his grave

However, music was only used in the same manner that is so familiar to us on the screen: to further the dramatic mood. In one scene, Norah Jones' song "Come Away With Me" played softly in the background while the character of Nina, performed expertly by Irina Salimov, stood in the light, waving her arms very much like a seagull, begging her love, Trigorin, to literally come away with her to another land. It seemed the whole production took place in another land, different than any conceptions of Russia or America or anywhere on Earth. It was just a series of dreams, dances and hopes. As a result, the fall from that state was that more painful.

In terms of acting, Phillip Atkins as Trigorin, was a true standout, using dance and beatnik rhythms to stylize a role usually played with moderate apathy. Moving around the stage as slyly as a wolf, he slowly corrupted Nina with the lyricism of his words. One particular sensuous moment occurred when, while sitting together beside a lake, Trigorin made an analogy of a writer destroying a girl's innocence as a cure for boredom, clearly speaking of their own situation. Trigorin exits, leaving Nina alone on stage mesmerized by his words, the lights washing over her, covering her like waves.

Directed by Dawn Davis, a former Sundance Feature Film Project Finalist, Chekhov's aged words were truly translated into an entirely different language. With an intimate theater, a sparse set consisting of only three chairs, and no flowery gowns to speak of, the play instead relied on its actors' innate talents and lighting designers' unique gifts.

Adam T. Rosencrance's voice, as the sprightly Konstantin, at times seemed as raw as a fresh wound. When talking to Nina, his lost love, his entire body turned manic and depressed, at one point slumping against the wall and staring up to her like a neglected puppy dog. His pain, while neglected by those onstage, was certainly felt by those watching him from the audience as well as by the rain that fell just outside the stage door by sheer happenstance.

While the group that was responsible for this play, Liberation! Films, certainly succeeded in emphasizing significant plot and symbolic moments with a fresh and avant-garde theater style, certain smaller sub-plots -- which are in many ways the essence of Chekhov -- were lost. Chekhov wrote primarily of his character's battle with time: lost, gained, but rarely in the moment.

At times, the play's stretch to break free from form proved to be too much and too busy for the little stage. Some of the scenes crossed the line of visionary to chaotic; one in particular with all ten characters placed on stage together, half dancing, half meandering, all while the doctor and his mistress chattered on about their affair.

The sub-plots traditionally furthered this idea of time stopping for no one. By de-emphasizing the sub-plots, the relentlessness of time was stalled. The world seemed able to slow for the main characters and their life fumblings, since it was mainly their world the audience was experiencing. At the end of the production, it was conceivable for Nina to rekindle her childhood love of Konstantin even though both characters had become wholly different people in their absence from one another.

This production is anything but conventional and there are flaws. But in terms of tinkling with the imagination and "seeking to impact the field with work that is innovative in form and compelling in content" as is Liberation! Films' goal, there could be no better example.