REVIEW: The Seagull

I tried going into The Seagull at KXT as blind as I possibly could. I knew enough of the synopsis to assure my friend I wasn’t taking him to an avante garde nudist exploration of urbanisation (wasn’t 100% on this myself to be honest, life’s a gamble after all), and we both went in with the understanding we were going to watch an upper-middle class family slowly implode.

This understanding didn’t really prepare either of us for the incisive, hilarious, and downright gut-wrenching show that director Saro Lusty-Cavallari has put together, with the work of some incredible actors and stagehands. 

The Seagull begins with a shitty play. A play that might have some legs, if you squint your eyes, but is overall, fairly bad. It’s in the backyard of the playwright’s rich mother’s riverside house. The script does a fantastic job of telling the audience what they can expect from each character in this one scene, as we build up to and then experience the play. Aspiring playwright and perpetual student, Constantine, played by the incredible Saro Lepejian, is directing his girlfriend Nina (the equally brilliant Alex Travers) for the show, telling her to “not be constrained by notions of character” and to “bring herself to the show”.

Photo by Robert Miniter Photography

It’s brilliant, it’s funny in a sort of self-deprecating way, and the other seven cast members all have reactions to it that perfectly establish their relationship to Constantine, the idea of theatre, and each other, so that all these things can be subverted down the line.

This is a show about theatre. Everything is coloured in some way by the Australian theatre industry and perhaps more broadly, that screaming, aching desire so many people have to live off their own creativity.

It gives the show a lot - and I mean a lot - of great moments. Chiding artistic subversives grate against established talent, who play it far safer with their work. Which person is more ‘true’ to theatre?  Someone like Irene, Constantine’s mother, who is rich enough from acting to own two homes, and is lauded throughout the show for her work on “Nancy Pelosi: the Musical”? Or someone like Con himself, who wants words and feelings to ‘feel foreign again’, and is about as marketable to a production company as my script of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof retold as a sci-fi thriller inside a mining colony on Saturn’s largest moon, Titan. (Cat on a Hot Tin Moon is still without a production company, if anyone wants to pick it up. Anyone. Please.)

The play doesn’t take sides. It’s not interested in adjudicating a debate between avant garde and commercialised art, it’s interested in how this debate drives people to bouts of rage, and lust, and deep, deep sadness. This is a show that reveals how art can make monsters of people.

Photo by Robert Miniter Photography

The play definitely takes on a ‘meta’ bent as well, with Irene bemoaning how ten people is too many for a play, within a show that features nine, alongside plenty of other tongue and cheek references to the world of Sydney theatre. Irene in general is an utterly fantastic character - she is built up as the snobbish, out of touch actress who hates everyone that tries to outshine her, and while she certainly exhibits these flaws, actress Deborah Jones imbues her with so much humanity, pragmatism, and just straight comedy that you really do come to love every scene she’s in, even the ones where she’s treating everyone like a trophy in her dragon’s hoard.

The meta aspects are where I do chide with the show a little, however. The opening scene has Constantine ranting and raving about the milquetoast world of middle theatre in Australia, where every show is a glorified networking centre, and people live to get through the art so they can gossip in the theatre venue afterwards while sipping bad wine (and ‘surprisingly good chicken karaage’, a line that got a pretty big laugh out of me). 

Constantine bemoans the world of Australian theatre as insular and unfamiliar with any real connection to its audience, while also making jokes about NIDA and the Seymour Centre and Australian directors who were big on this rather small scene back in 2020 - jokes that someone just going to enjoy a night at KXT without actually being ‘in the biz’ would be completely unfamiliar with.

These jokes got huge laughs from most of the crowd, for what it’s worth. I understood about every three references, and my civil engineering friend from south-west Sydney understood none. I was getting flop sweats, thinking I was about to put my friend through two hours of niche theatre jokes, when Tim McGarry swept in like a glorious, blokey Angel, pairing Constantine’s hyperfocused critique of Australian theatre with a hilarious monologue about how much he’s been sleeping during lockdown.

Photo by Robert Miniter Photography

I’m not sure if I can credit The Seagull with a feat of cirque du soleil satirisation here, drawing the audience into a joke, pointing at the joke, and all the while framing the audience as part of the joke too. From the perspective of a satellite to the theatrical world and their layman friend, these jokes went on for a little too long. A few winks at the audience, especially considering the play’s subject matter, is completely fine and even welcomed, but I felt some of the humour running through this show would be alienating to an average audience member unlearned in the minutiae of Sydney theatre.

But if you were on the fence about The Seagull, don’t let this prospect deter you. It’s a hilarious, insightful show, one that left me agape at some points and laughing in tears at others. The Seagull just seemed to fall into some of the very traps Constantine was often  raving about. 

They also could have souped up the niche theatre references for opening night, and on a subsequent night you’ll leave the show saying “Michael needs to stop hitting the apple ciders before they review a show”. And I will tell you no. I will not stop hitting the apple ciders before I review a show. 

If you don’t mind a trip to the city and you want a deliciously dark piece of entertainment for the night, this is the show for you. The cast is a beautiful ebb-and-flow of poignant artists and grounded laymen coming together to paint a picture of lust, love, tragedy, and all the terrible things we’ll do in the name of art.

4.5 Stars

Click here for tickets to The Seagull at KXT On Broadway until 6th December