THE SEAGULL

Royal Lyceum Theatre

★★★½

“Poulton’s translation teases out the world of comedic opportunities Chekhov’s text offers”

‘The Seagull’ at The Royal Lyceum Edinburgh presents a strong adaptation by Mike Poulton of Chekhov’s acclaimed character-driven drama. Director James Brining delivers a moving and pitiful dive into questions of unrequited love, fulfilment, and fame.

Overall, the acting in this production is really strong and believable. The ensemble have a driven cohesion and complexity to them unfolds as the play progresses- particularly as the last act of the play drives closer to its dramatic conclusion. The supporting cast tie the piece together brilliantly, and are to be commended for their characterisation and emotive presence. Lorn MacDonald is a highly convincing Konstantine; his acting brims with three-dimensional insecurity and need for his mother’s approval and Nina’s love to survive. Harmony Rose-Bremner, playing Nina, also gives a powerhouse performance of depth and unravelling.. Though she is standout in her comedic timing and perfectly narcissistic portrayal of Irina, the boldness of Caroline Quentin’s direction overshadows more serious moments of the play. It feels at times that older female characters, like Irina and Polina, are directed for laughs at the cost of their complexity as characters.

Poulton’s translation, for the most part, seamlessly mediates the original text to a modern Scottish audience. Poulton peppers the text with Scots words like “havering” and “bairn” in steady moderation and does not fall into the trap of overdoing translation into local vocab, yet administers the sleek charm of Scottish words where it is natural and intriguing. The decision to not modernise the setting shows trust in the audience to do the work in deciphering meaning, but the subtle modernising of sentiments and words makes for a clear and accessible performance. There are a few instances where translated language sticks out a bit like a sore thumb – with words like ‘flop’ conveying the sentiment of the original, but coming across perhaps too colloquial for the tone of the piece. However, Poulton’s translation teases out the world of comedic opportunities Chekhov’s text offers, and allows its actors to soar with quick witted timing and ironic commentary on the wider world and the imperfect characters they interact with.

The play’s sound design, unfortunately, stays too in the background to really establish itself in the performance, and musical transitions (though pitch perfect!) lack punch and purpose. Across the length of the play, it is hard not to feel hungry for bolder direction which showcases the multidisciplinary talent of the actors more thoroughly, particularly as there are hints of actor-muso talent dotted throughout.

Above all else, the visual design is deeply impressive. This production of ‘The Seagull’ is shaped by a beautifully cohesive set (by Colin Richmond and Anna Kelsey) and costuming (by Madeleine Boyd) design that brings the pity, power, and envy of Chekhovov’s complex characters to life. Muted tones are punctuated by bright contrasts that allow character’s juxtapositions with one another to burst from the stage. Beautiful set pieces like Constantine’s beautifully tragic mock-theatre, and a stunning dinner table giving nods to rural Scottish estates move seamlessly into new points in time, and make for gorgeous transitions where lighting subtly mesmerises the audience. Lizzie Powell’s lighting haunts the piece with gloom and softness which also creates meaningful contrasts in time, people, and place.

Overflowing with heart, charisma, and unflinching acting performances, this production is a slick showcase of talent.

THE SEAGULL

Royal Lyceum Theatre

Reviewed on 14th October 2025

by Molly Knox

Photography by Mihaela Bodlovic

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE MOUNTAINTOP | ★★★★ | June 2025

TREASURE ISLAND | ★★★ | November 2024

THE SEAGULL

★★★

“It becomes too clever and self-aware and we disengage”

Above Edinburgh on the Salibury Crags, Declan, a talented, working class young artist pulls a body back as it tries to jump. This body belongs to Libby, a middle-aged, middle class fading playwright who is drunkenly considering the end. So two worlds meet. As Declan talks about the realities of his life, an abusive step-father, his love for his little sister, Libby begins to write for the first time in far too long. She needs his story, she needs his words, but at that point, the play asks, does telling someone’s story become exploiting it?

Lorn Macdonald as Declan is the heart and energy of the piece. He comes to life, quick and funny, surprising and vulnerable. His story is the one we are interested in hearing, and Macdonald is simply fire on stage. I cannot fault his performance. Unfortunately Neve McIntosh’s Libby feels comparatively unreal. This is not her fault, but an impossibility within the way the character is written. She is unlikeable throughout. Her suicide attempt, which opens the story, is so lightly commented upon in the rest of the play that it seems completely unbelievable and rather half-hearted, trivialising suicide, and contributing to a version of Libby that is self-absorbed and ingenuine. She is used as a device by the playwright (Kieran Hurley) to make comments about the world of theatre, meaning she struggles to emerge. He gives her an extended monologue about the state of playwriting, about theatres and audiences, that is so self-aware it makes us self-aware. That isn’t a character speaking, and it removes us from the world of the play with immediate effect. Even her trajectory isn’t believable. She jumps from suicidal to mentor to lover to exploiter with no apparent journeys in between.

Mouthpiece is interspersed by Libby directly addressing the audience, telling us what makes a good play, walking us through the necessary ingredients as they are created onstage, foreshadowing the way the narrative must inevitably go. Sometimes this works really well. But the plot gets lost in this, and the end in particular suffers as a result. It stops being about the characters, about their story. It becomes too clever and self-aware and we disengage.

The story that is at the heart of ‘Mouthpiece’ is a fascinating one of an unlikely relationship, of exploitation, class and culture, but it gets lost in a weary exercise of meta-theatricality, in an attempt to comment on playwriting, when the story is powerful enough to make this comment on its own. Let the story speak, and we will be powerless not to listen.

Reviewed by Amelia Brown

Photography by Roberto Ricciuti

Tag Archives: Lorn Macdonald

THE SEAGULL

★★★½

Royal Lyceum Theatre

THE SEAGULL

Royal Lyceum Theatre

★★★½

“Poulton’s translation teases out the world of comedic opportunities Chekhov’s text offers”