As soon as I take my seat at the Theater Reconstruction Ensemble’s production of The Three Seagulls, or MASHAMASAMASHA!, I realize I am not attending a conventional night of theatre. Questions immediately rush into my stream of thoughts: ‘Why does that actor look like a modern-day Williamsburg hipster but that actor looks like he’s in 1850s England“’ … ‘Why can I see those actors getting ready in their dressing room?’ … ‘Why is that actor arbitrarily dancing?’ … ‘Why are there 52384723 actors in this production?!’ Although most of my questions would never be answered, what ultimately follows is a sharply directed hit-and-miss satire that is equal parts fascinating and frustrating.
Playwright Jaclyn Backhaus and TRE cram twenty-four (!!) of Chekhov’s characters from The Seagull and Three Sisters into a 70-minute play which “seeks to explore the foundation of contemporary theatrics by inventing [their] own elaborate experiment of truly Russian proportions!” Is it elaborate? For sure. Experimental? Most definitely. Their own? Too much so. The twenty-four actors beautifully inhabit the same bizarre world but there are too many times that I don't understand the rules of this world when I very much want to be included. I recommend every audience member brushes up on his Chekhov before heading to the Here Arts Center.
The absurdly talented actors dive into Backhaus’s various subplots with giddy, melodramatic enthusiasm. The play, however, lacks a central character the audience can root for. Because the stage is littered with so many people, it becomes increasingly difficult to follow all of their stories and hence increasingly difficult to care about what happens to any of them. Somewhere in the middle of the play, three characters sing a song while three other characters perform an awkward dance. Who are these people, why are they dancing and what is their relationship to one another? Beats me. We are treated to a breezy introduction of every character within the first five minutes of the play but by the time the 22nd person spoke, I stopped taking notes.
Though over-the-top and overbearing at times, the show is not without its charms. The cast is uniformly solid and the actors should be commended for their strong work. Emily Marro is particularly intriguing as Masha. She delivers a subtle, delicate performance and commands her scenes with an understated yet resonant sense of power. There’s also a brilliant moment in which one character monologues to a seagull -- a monologue which includes quotes from Coolio’s Gangsta’s Paradise and TV’s hilariously campy Cinderella. Finally, a poignant scene with Masha and her mother rings true as a painfully touching examination of unrequited love.
All of this leads to a finale that uneasily transitions from comedic melodrama to actual melodrama. While some of the comedy truly hits home (see above: Gangsta’s Paradise/Cinderella monologue), somehow a heartfelt, deep conclusion feels manipulative. The set of goodbyes on display here is played with the same somber monotony by every actor; there are more nuances and colors in the musical selection playing in the background. The wackiness, the zaniness, the quirkiness: it all goes out the window as the characters ponder living and suffering.
They pondered. I didn’t.
Still, Three Seagulls is a bold and ambitious new work. Although flawed, it features crisp direction by John Kurzynowski and a game cast who I have no doubt could flawlessly answer every one of my ‘why?’ questions that came up throughout the evening.
