CHEKHOV WITH TEETH
For those who’ve never bought the notion that Chekhov’s The Seagull is simply about broken hearts, director Alexander Molochnikov’s take on the play offers a thrilling, subversive vindication. His Seagull: True Story, now showing at La MaMa’s Ellen Stewart Theatre, is no conventional revival. Brilliantly written by Eli Rarey, it is part documentary, part backstage absurdity, and part political lament. It draws on a long lineage of Russian theatre as political battleground—from director Meyerhold’s execution in 1940 to the Taganka Theatre’s dissident performances—and it nods to Russian theatrical tradition, with Chekhovian echoes scattered throughout. But the result feels strikingly fresh, unique, and unapologetically current.
Ohad Mazor, Stella Baker, Quentin Lee Moore,
Zuzanna Szadkowski, Myles McCabe III, Keshet Pratt, Hunter Bryant
Since the play is partly autobiographical, knowing a bit about the artist helps unlock its full meaning. Alexander (Sasha) Molochnikov is a film, theatre, opera, and ballet director known for his bold, genre-blurring work. He begins his career at the venerable Moscow Art Theatre, later directing at the Bolshoi Theatre—and the man is only 33 years old! By 30, he has already directed seven major stage productions, two feature films, and a hit TV series. In 2022, after bravely speaking out against the invasion of Ukraine, he is forced to uproot his life and begin anew. He chooses New York as his creative refuge, and now we are fortunate to witness his next chapter unfold.
Keshet Pratt, Zuzanna Szadkowski, Quentin Lee Moore
The plot follows a fictionalized version of Molochnikov himself, Kon, a young, gifted theater director played by Eric Tabach. It’s February 2022, and Kon is attempting to stage a revised version of The Seagull—with men in skirts and freedom dances—at the Moscow Art Theatre, a venue that reveres Chekhov’s masterpiece so deeply, it adopts the bird as its emblem. Tabach brings the character to life with an affecting mix of restless energy and raw emotional openness, giving it a palpable sense of urgency and vulnerability.
Eric Tabach, Elan Zafir
Kon is the son of Olga, a majestic and renowned stage actress whose powerful connections have undoubtedly eased his path. She is playing a lead in her son’s play, and she urges him not to question authority but to follow instructions and avoid drawing attention. Zuzanna Szadkowski delivers both humor and elegance as the seasoned diva. And though light and operatic in tone, her character underlines a chilling truth: in an autocracy, even the most revered artists must walk a treacherous line between obedience and resistance—or choose a side and pay the price.
Elan Zafir
Suddenly, the news breaks: Russia has invaded Ukraine. The Moscow rehearsal room transforms into a surreal crucible of moral reckoning and artistic futility, especially for Kon, who feels horrified and terrified by the war. He tries to carry on with rehearsals while the walls of rising authoritarianism close in. Eventually, he listens to his heart and flees Moscow. But in New York, celebrity doesn’t pay rent and, unless you’re wealthy, starting over means truly starting over. Kon’s mother’s powerful producer friend offers no help, his suitcase is stolen, and he has nowhere to sleep. But just when everything seems lost, a chance encounter on the subway with Nico gives him a first hint of a new beginning. Can he bring The Seagull to life, or is it destined to remain grounded by history and circumstance?
Eric Tabach, Andrey Burkovskiy, Quentin Lee Moore, Keshet Pratt
Ohad Mazor, Hunter Bryant, Myles McCabe III,
Andrey Burkovskiy, Quentin Lee Moore, Keshet Pratt
Andrey Burkovskiy‘s role as the MC is pivotal in guiding the audience through the surreal narrative, starting with the show’s opening. He lets us know, tongue in cheek, that in The Seagull, “Basically nothing happens. Treplev is a director in love with Nina, an actress. His mom is an actress too. Nina is in love with someone else. She leaves, Treplev is sad, she comes back, Treplev is even more sad. His mom is a bitch. He shoots himself. That’s it.” Playful, self-aware, and intentionally over-the-top, Burkovskiy dominates the space. At one unforgettable moment, he transforms into a shirtless Putin, mounted atop a human horse animated by five performers, looming ominously over Kon. The director lies sprawled on an inflatable mattress, caught in a waking nightmare as the tableau unfolds—a funny theatrical nod to the infamous image that sparks a thousand memes. Behind the comedic mayhem that makes the audience roar, a panel of deep red fabric hangs softly, almost as a melancholic reminder of something far more dangerous, making the scene both wonderfully absurd and frightening.
Stella Baker, Eric Tabach
The ensemble shines uniformly, functioning as a tragicomic chorus of the disoriented director’s life. Anton, the idealistic poet and dramaturg who is helping Kon stage the play, embodies the tortured conscience of the artist; Elan Zafir‘s performance adds a layer of Russian saudade to the narrative—profound, but always with a touch of humor. Stella Baker, as Russian Masha, gives us a delightfully raw, emotionally fractured performance. She also nails New York Nico, the starlet whose offstage romances mirror Nina’s ill-fated flight toward fame. Quentin Lee Moore delivers Ivan as a fierce and fraying Treplev, while offstage his character oozes ambition and opportunism. Ohad Mazor, being a dancer and choreographer, brings movement to the work and fluidity to Dmitri. Hunter Bryant as Yevgeny, Myles J. McCabe as Sasha, and Keshet Pratt as Pickle—the sharp-tongued feminist performance artist who shows a modern edge—are also outstanding.
Stella Baker, Andrey Burkovskiy
Alexander Shishkin’s minimalist set is a vast black canvas that morphs effortlessly between physical terrain and psychological battleground. The emptiness of the space reminds me of both Chekhov’s melancholic spaciousness—like the lake or the orchard—and the hollowing out of public discourse in Putin’s Russia. But Shishkin’s emptiness is thoughtfully detailed with the perfect variety of props, all we need, as an audience, to transform illusion into unmistakable reality. Kristina Kharlashkina’s costumes complement this with their elegant simplicity—unassuming but precise—while the lighting by Brian H. Scott and Sam Saliba shapes the atmosphere with dynamic precision. Fedor Zhuravlev, known for his avant-garde sensibility and experimental edge, composes original music for the production and performs live on guitar and other instruments. His score shapes a distinctive sonic landscape, aided by Diego Las Heras’s sound design. The lyrics are by Noize MC, a prominent Russian rapper and songwriter.
Stella Baker
Ever-present, the seagull takes flight and wails through the actors’ playful impersonations, a nod to Chekhov that often sends the audience into fits of laughter. And we laugh a lot, even if Seagull: True Story is about a very thorny, tragic subject. Molochnikov opens and closes the play with unmistakable flair and boundless energy—a brave man and a very talented artist. Smiling warmly at everyone after the show, he posed for photos beside Baryshnikov, who was in the house and proved just as refreshingly down-to-earth as the moment demanded.
Elan Zafir, Keshet Pratt
Walking away, I realize that the emotional authenticity at the play’s core shakes me. What happens to the writer when the truth becomes unspeakable? And what becomes of the artist when the government declares war not only on its people, but on truth itself? Seagull: True Story is a vital addition to contemporary theatre, staged in a venue steeped in history like La MaMa. Don’t miss the chance to experience it. It’s Chekhov with teeth, for anyone who believes theatre should still matter.
The ensemble
photos by Frederick Charles
Seagull: True Story
La MaMa in association with MART Foundation & En Garde Arts
Ellen Stewart Theatre, 66 E 4th St
Thurs-Sat at 7; Sat & Sun at 2; Mon at 7 (May 28)
2 hours, 30 minutes with intermission
for tickets($40-$45), visit La Mama
first 10 tickets to every performance are $10 each
