SEAGULL: TRUE STORY
Marylebone Theatre
★★★★★
“Sharp satire and ebullient humour contrast with raw humanity”
Alexander Molochnikov and Eli Rarey’s chaotic but compelling ‘Seagull: True Story’ explodes in a defiant, politically charged, semi-autobiographical reinvention of Chekhov’s revolutionary classic. If Chekhov holds up a mirror to humanity, Molochnikov and Rarey smash it, reflecting a modern world fractured by political and emotional upheaval.
With a stage apron transformed into a boudoir, ‘Seagull: True Story’ promises a spectacle. But will it be heartfelt and vulnerable, like the haunting opening ballad sung in Russian by a middle-aged man? Or a glittery circus, like the flamboyant MC who crashes the stage yelling “fantastic”? The tension between truth and theatrics permeates each scene as we chart the artistic rise and unravelling of young Russian director Kon and his friend Anton. Their radical interpretation of Chekhov’s ‘Seagull’ is threatened when Putin invades Ukraine. Their choices are speak out, be silenced or leave. Anton chooses the former; Kon the latter. But will Kon find artistic freedom in America? And what will he sacrifice to achieve it?
Inspired by Chekhov’s tragicomedy ‘The Seagull’, ‘Seagull True Story’ offers a fractured, provocative and sometimes unsettling commentary on freedom of expression in our modern world. Creator Molochnikov and writer Rarey unflinchingly reinvigorate Chekhov’s characters and themes, weaving disillusionment, sacrifice, and the conflict between truth and tradition into current geopolitics. Sharp satire and ebullient humour contrast with raw humanity, leaving you off-kilter but deeply affected by the unfolding tragedy. If anything, its pre-Trump penning misses a trick in skirting a sharper critique of American democracy. But with so much to unpack, it earns its pardon.
Molochnikov’s direction conjures contradiction, from pulsating parody to sombre and serious. The most powerful characters display the least humanity. As much is said by a glance as by a monologue. The inspired use of the house curtain, flipping aside to conceal and reveal, is a veil Kon never controls. Most of the action takes place in front of said curtain, the stark stage behind exposing the chasm between art and reality. Characters rushing into the audience and ripping out cables further blur the line between fact and fiction.
Fedor Zhuravlev’s compositions are perfectly familiar and foreign, driving and adrift. Noize MC’s cutting lyrics introduce fresh perspectives into a world of self-absorption, and the group rap sections echo Greek chorus. Ohad Mazor’s contemporary choreography injects expertly executed vitality and flow.
Alexander Shishkin’s set design is both rich and stark, the pre-curtain evoking theatricality, communism, Trumpism, and even exploitation and death; the post-curtain giving way to bare brutalism. Plastic screens and props evoke pollution, suffocation and the flimsiness of truth. Yet it’s also surreal, a bath whizzing through a party and a goldfish bowl sporting a buoyant balloon.
Alex Musgrave’s lighting perfectly echoes these contradictions, ranging from dramatic and effusive to cold and isolating. It effectively creates new spaces in the minimal set. Julian Starr’s sound design adds a continual layer of realism (I especially love the little splashes in the bath), punctuated by showy flourishes which reassert the falseness of the theatre. It’s a little loud in places but the cast’s projection usually overcomes this. Kristina Kharlashkina’s costumes range from realistic to grandiose, some characters true to life and the rest varying significantly in tone and silhouette, especially as war breaks.
The cast is magnificent, bringing this complex piece to life on many levels. Daniel Boyd’s Kon is haunted, his desperation suffocating him as reality closes in. Ingeborga Dapkūnaitė’s Olga is a masterclass in subtext, her initial horror at the war masked by forced cheer, making the silences between mother and son scream. Stella Baker’s Nico brings a knowing edge to her embodiment of the ingénue. Andrey Burkovskiy’s MC manages to bring a menacing quality to his relentless cheer. Elan Zafir’s Anton is heartbreakingly steadfast and the emotional soul of the piece.
Like Chekhov, Molochnikov’s ‘Seagull: True Story’ offers a lot to chew on if you’re up to the challenge. This heartbreaking, mesmerising, unflinching reimagining will haunt you like ‘The Seagull’ haunts Kon.
SEAGULL: TRUE STORY
Marylebone Theatre
Reviewed on 9th September 2025
by Hannah Bothelton
Photography provided by Seagull: True Story
Previously reviewed at this venue:
A ROLE TO DIE FOR | ★★★★ | July 2025
ALICE IN WONDERLAND | ★★★ | July 2025
FAYGELE | ★★★★★ | May 2025
WHITE ROSE | ★★ | March 2025
WHAT WE TALK ABOUT WHEN WE TALK ABOUT ANNE FRANK | ★★★★ | October 2024
THE GOVERNMENT INSPECTOR | ★★★★ | May 2024
THE DREAM OF A RIDICULOUS MAN | ★★★★ | March 2024
A SHERLOCK CAROL | ★★★★ | November 2023
THE DRY HOUSE | ★★½ | April 2023
