Chekhov's 'The Seagull' transformed at A.R.T.

                Konstantin, the angst-ridden artist in Anton Chekhov's play "The Seagull," says, "We have to show life not the way it is, or the way it should be, but the way it is in dreams." János Szász, director of the American Repertory Theatre's (A.R.T.) production of "The Seagull" presents an interpretation that is exactly that: a nightmarish descent into the beating heart of real life.
    Chekhov's tragicomedy paints a rich and tumultuous portrait of society that astonished audiences when it was first produced in 1896, and Szász's rock-infused production makes the play's return to the stage as beautiful and haunting as ever.
    The play opens on a dank, smoke-filled, subterranean stage with ghost-like characters dressed as punk rockers and moody goths. Brilliant, ostentatious chandeliers hang from the ceiling, and the set's juxtaposition of sparkle and smoke parallel the good and bad each character exhibits. There are no villains and no heroes. The A.R.T.'s production demonstrates that every character is flawed with an irresistible authenticity.
    "The Seagull," Chekhov's most recognizable play, is about regular life turned upside down by passion. As the play opens, Konstantin (played by Mickey Solis) awaits the first performance of the drama he has written for his beloved Nina (Molly Ward). He also hopes to impress his mother, a famous but aging actress who is accompanied by her lover, the prominent writer Boris Trigorin (Brain Dykstra). When Konstantin's mother ridicules his play, he storms off in a rage. At that moment, Trigorin notices Nina and is sexually fascinated by her.
    A disastrous affair follows, with a dark humor that Szász charges with a profound use of phallic imagery. What Chekhov had left unsaid in his play rises to the surface of this violently disillusioning — and slightly disturbing — production.
    Lighting in the production plays a major role. The actors seem to be surrounded by darkness throughout the show, and Konstantin uses a flashlight to control the gazes of other characters, paralyzing them into a moth-like fixation.
    Water plays an equally important and symbolic role, yet, like the characters, it is never clearly positive or negative. Chekhov's play takes place by a lake, but in Szász's version a giant ankle-deep puddle spreads across the stage, which the actors splash through in rubber rain boots. In the second act, water rains down and soaks the actors, but it fails to purify or free them. The overall effect is hysterically depressing — tragedy and comedy combined.
    Chekhov did not like to designate main and secondary characters in his plays, and "The Seagull" is no exception. Each character's personality has an equally strong presence on stage, and the high quality of the acting aids the playwright's intent. The play stops short of being melodramatic, however, since the actors' anguish is both heart-wrenchingly real and, at times, self-mocking. Quite frequently the actors transition from an ordinary reality into a mechanical trance that comes across as both captivating and absurd. The production presents stock characters taken from melodrama and makes them infinitely more complex.
    Szász's interpretation is poetic and harsh, a fitting tribute to what some have hailed as Chekhov's masterpiece, and the answer to Konstantin's passionate cry: "… new forms! We need new forms, and if we can't have them, then we're better off with no theater at all."
    Szász successfully accepts Konstantin's challenge to old forms, expanding the boundaries of what theater can be. His violent, cinematic concept specifically strikes a chord with young viewers. The music of Guns N' Roses punctuates Szász's futuristic dream world, creating a departure from the text while keeping in line with Chekhov's vision.
     "The Seagull" is showing at the A.R.T.'s Loeb Drama Center in Cambridge until February 1st. For a full performance schedule, log on to the A.R.T. website at amrep.org. Student tickets are $25 advance purchase and $15 on the day of performance.