Irene (Parker Posey) offers cold comfort to her son, Kevin (Nat Wolff), in The Seagull/Woodstock N.Y.
Anton Chekhov’s 1895 chestnut, The Seagull, has always been a crowd pleaser. The tale of unrequited love and petty jealousy among egomaniacal adults and self-doubting youths, sown through with treatises on the craft of writing and the purpose of theater, then capped with a dead bird and a tragic ending, has spawned eight Broadway productions over the past century.
William (Ato Essandoh) woos a willing Nina (Aleyse Shannon).
For the New Group’s brazen Off-Broadway adaptation, The Seagull/Woodstock N.Y., playwright Thomas Bradshaw has swapped the estate that was a carriage ride away from Moscow for a house that’s a Bentley ride away from New York City. The framework of Chekhov’s story is firmly in place, but Bradshaw, director Scott Elliott and a sizzling, eclectic cast go wild with the redecorating. The script is filled with pop culture references and the kind of in-the-know theater jokes that are catnip for Manhattan audiences. In addition to the play’s inherent class conflicts, racial discord has been added to the mix, along with ample doses of sex and swearing.
This comedy-drama features four protagonists, along with six friends and lovers in various decaying orbits around them. Irene (Parker Posey) is a successful actor of a certain age who thrives on attention while giving little back in return. A grand dame in Chekhov’s time, here she’s a wisecracking veteran with a broad résumé; not unlike Posey herself. So when she declares, “I’ve been walking on the edge my whole career, but I never, ever alienate my audience,” no physical wink is needed.
Irene’s son, Kevin (Nat Wolff), is an aspiring experimental playwright determined to change the course of commercial theater, if only he were loved by anyone. Irene is indifferent toward him at best, as is Nina, the girl he adores. Kevin’s Oedipus complex, subtle in Chekhov but explicit here, turns out to be the least of his problems as he goes off his meds, goes gunning for gulls and spirals into a depression. Wolff’s wide-open facial expressions make for a sympathetic performance. In the one, brief moment when Kevin receives praise for his writing, he quietly laps it up like a puppy.
Dean (Bill Sage) tries to console the always dour Sasha (Hari Nef). Photographs by Monique Carboni.
Irene’s lover, William (Ato Essandoh), is a famous African-American writer who makes it clear that monogamy is not his thing. Kevin’s hatred of him is a toxic brew of mother issues and professional jealousy, and that’s before William steals away Nina. Essandoh finds the proper mix of characteristics associated with being a contemporary novelist: equal parts man of letters and sly womanizer.
Nina (Aleyse Shannon) is the evening’s catalyst and metaphorical wounded bird. She is a young, attractive, aspiring actor, thus a natural foe for catty Irene. Kevin’s infatuation with her gets her cast in his newest abstract play, a devastating mix of masturbational self-confession and racialized language. She pulls it off with aplomb. Her feelings for Kevin, though, are squelched when she begins to believe that William offers both a path to Broadway and a chance for love, baldly wooing him: “When I settle down, it’s gonna be with a black man.” Her future, though not as grim as Kevin’s, will fail to take flight, leading Kevin to summarize, “She was good in a play at the Public, but then she was bad in a thing at the Roundabout.”
Among the outer circle of acquaintances, Sasha (Hari Nef) stands out for her perpetual sadness and hidden love for Kevin. Named Masha in Chekhov’s original, her famous response to why she always wears black was, “Because I’m mourning my life.” Bradshaw’s only slightly less brutal revision is, “Some of us were born to suffer.” Nef’s demeanor is delightfully sad-sack, full of woe-is-me head nods and laughter that is never far from tears. And her chemistry with Posey is electric, more so than any of the romantic couples.
David Cale as Samuel with his close friend Irene (Parker).
Also along for the ride is writer and monologuist David Cale, here playing the disturbing Samuel, Irene’s brother from another mother, a failed actor in failing health who became an unhappy corporate attorney. Neighbors Pauline and Darren (Amy Stiller and Daniel Oreskes) have marital problems of their own, while single surgeon Dean (Bill Sage) floats through life and teacher Mark (Patrick Foley) sinks when saddled with Sasha.
Elliott’s vibrant directing begins with a reminder of the artifice of theater. The actors enter designer Derek McLane’s thrust stage as themselves, chit-chatting, then doing some stretching exercises before leading the audience in a sing-along of Graham Nash’s “Our House.” Their real and warm group interactions offer a clever contrast to the machinations that follow.
The New Group’s presentation of The Seagull/Woodstock, NY runs at the Pershing Square Signature Center (480 W. 42nd St.) through April 9. Evening performances are at 7:30 p.m. Tuesday through Friday and 8 p.m. Saturday; matinees are at 2 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. For tickets and information, visit thenewgroup.org.
