Hollywood Seagull: From Russia to Malibu

Hollywood and a high culture do not necessarily go together, but jealousy and disillusionment are embedded in the town’s very fiber.  Considering its central conflicts, resetting Chekhov’s great tragedy in a Malibu beach estate makes a certain amount of sense.  There is even an important Russian connection for Michael Guinzburg’s Hollywood Seagull (trailer here), which opens today in Los Angeles.

Bruce Sorenson (Sorin) is a retired jurist who maintains a palatial Malibu beach house, but pines for the New York of his early years. He lives with his grandson Travis Del Mar (Treplyov), who hopes to win his mother’s approval with his avant-garde short films. Instead, Irene Del Mar (Irina) belittles her son at every turn, saving her affection for Barry Allen Trigger (Trigorin), a blockbuster screenwriter, who has yet to write a part for her.  She does not think much of her son’s new lover, Nina Danilov, either.  However, the aspiring Russian actress certainly turns Trigger’s head.

Obviously, the mutual attraction shared by Danilov and Trigger will further destabilize the already dysfunctional household.  Love will be mismatched and unrequited for nearly everyone, including the loyal live-in servants and Dr. Dorn, a longtime family friend (now a breast implant specialist in Guinzburg’s Hollywoodized version).

As viewers already know (or can guess from other Chekhov plays), there is not a lot of happiness in store for any of these characters.  In fact, Guinzburg matches the original pretty closely, even forcing in the business with the misfortunate water fowl. In truth, it works better than one might expect.  It is hard to define precisely, but there is a somewhat nostalgic vibe to the film, sort of like recent vintage Harry Jaglom films, but without the Jaglom excesses.  The mood is also nicely enhanced by the distinctive score composed by Evgeny Shchukin (with additional contributions from Doug White), consisting of light classical strings and elegant piano-and-vibes jazz interludes.

However, Guinzburg’s real ace in the hole is William “Biff” McGuire as grandfather Sorenson.  He perfectly expresses the former judge’s world weariness and his spark of wit.  He’s the guy you want to sit next to at a dinner party.  The Hollywood Seagull team seems to consider him their Oscar contender, which makes sense.  McGuire is clearly a long shot, but as an industry veteran (primarily television) going back to the days of Alfred Hitchcock Presents, he would be a great story should he somehow get the nod.

Viewers might not recognize their names, but the rest of the ensemble does not lack for credits either (albeit of the “small screen” variety).  Sal Viscuso is another case in point.  The onetime Soap co-star (as Father Timothy Flotsky) finds the perfect tone of Chekhovian resignation for Dr. Dorn.  Barbara Williams is also razor sharp as the wince-inducing Irene Del Mar, while Lara Romanoff is certainly convincing as Danilov, the Russian starlet forced to do reality TV because she cannot soften her accent.  However, her scenes with her various romantic prospects are rather overcooked.

Still, Hollywood Seagull is a refreshingly stylish and literate production, anchored by McGuire’s wise and wistful turn. Frankly, it deserves more attention than August: Osage County, a film not so thematically dissimilar. Recommended for those who appreciate the source material and its Tinseltown trappings, Hollywood Seagull opens today (12/27) in Los Angeles at the Downtown Independent, just in time for Oscar consideration.

The Chekhov Caper: Henry’s Crime

The very notion of certain actors playing Chekhov is criminal. Henry Torne is one of them. However, the play is most definitely the thing for this ex-con’s prospective bank job in Malcolm Venville’s Henry’s Crime (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Henry Torne was an ambitionless loser with no future. Then he went to prison. Suckered into driving his dodgy friends to their ill-conceived bank hold-up, Torne did the time for the crime he had no intention of committing. It hardly mattered though. His work as a toll collector was not exactly rewarding and his marriage was slowing dying, thanks to his own neglect. Paroled and divorced, Torne is at loose ends. Wondering to the scene of his non-crime, Torne gets an inspiration: that fateful bank. He also has a somewhat painful “meet-cute” with Julie Ivanova, an aspiring actress rehearsing Chekhov’s Cherry Orchard across the street.

There is something refreshing about Crime’s quiet, understated vibe. Set in Buffalo, it has a legitimate Upstate feel that recalls the small town scenes from Robert Wise’s classic noir Odds Against Tomorrow. Indeed, though they are not actually across the street from one another, the Tarrytown Music Hall and the bank are quite cinematic, giving the film a real sense of place. While Venville’s pacing occasionally flags, the funky R&B soundtrack, culled from the Daptone Records catalog, periodically gives the film a groovy lift.

Frankly, it makes a lot of sense to cast Keanu Reeves as an emotionally frozen prole. If not exactly a picture of chemistry, he and Vera Farmiga make a passable on-screen couple. However, the real charm of the film comes from James Caan and Bill Duke as Saltzman and Frank, the old cats with character.

Unusual among contemporary indie crime dramas, Venville’s film clearly has affection both for the city of Buffalo and Chekhov’s plays. A handsomely produced little caper movie with heart, Crime earns a surprisingly enthusiastic recommendation when it opens this Friday (4/8) in New York at the Landmark Sunshine.

Chekhov’s The Duel

Russians have always had issues with the Caucuses. During Anton Chekhov’s day, they were the sleepy backwater provinces of the Russian Empire, where careers went to die. Despite the beautiful natural scenery, a group of Russians are rather embarrassed to find themselves on the Black Sea. Yet they mostly try to keep up appearances in Georgian-born Israeli director Dover Kosashvili’s English language adaptation of Anton Chekhov’s The Duel, which opens today in New York.

Nadyezhda Fyodorovna is a scandalous woman. She left her husband to live in sin with her lover, Ivan Andreitch Laevsky, a petty government official and general lay-about. Unfortunately, having grown bored with the romantically inclined Nadya, Laevsky hopes to drop her, despite the ruinous position that would leave her in.

The rakish Laevsky has lured most of the men in town into his hard-drinking, card playing circle, but the zoologist Von Koren is an exception. He has nothing but contempt for Laevsky and is not shy is saying so. As the title clearly foreshadows, things will definitely come to a head between the two men.

Frequently described as the Chekhov story most like his plays, “The Duel” was also his longest. It features large cast of characters trying to maintain their social status in what was essentially the lint-collecting navel of late Czarist Russia. Despite its relative length, its constitution is still very much the stuff of short fiction, relying more on setting and character than one-thing-after-another plotting. Though not exactly O. Henry, Chekhov also pulls an ironic switch on how his characters ultimately conduct themselves that Kosashvili deftly handles in turn.

Fiona Glascott is quietly compelling and ultimately quite fearless in a surprisingly frank performance. Andrew Scott nails indolence and also suggests deeper human frailty as Laevsky. However, perhaps the greatest standout is Tobias Menzies as the severe Von Koren, convincingly steadfast, yet so wrong in his rightness.

Duel follows squarely in the Merchant-Ivory tradition of elegant literary adaptation, but with a fair bit of female nudity thrown in for added appeal. Paul Sarossy’s radiant cinematography makes the Croatian stand-in for the Caucasian coastline gleam with beauty. The costumes and sets are equally elegant, evoking the graceful idleness of a pre-Revolutionary, pre-industrial time gone by.

An undeniably handsome production, Duel is in fact much like James Ivory’s City of Your Final Destination, in that both are mature films that lull viewers with their seductive rhythms rather than dazzling them with dramatic pyrotechnics. A small but memorable film, it opens today (4/28) at the Film Forum.

Fight Fest: The Ninja Cherry Orchard

In late Czarist Russia the Ranevsky estate must be sold to save the family from bankruptcy. Class, tradition, and manners all figure prominently in Anton Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard, but they are all trumped by the threat posed by the homicidal ninja terrorizing the family in a new adaptation by Michael Gardner that might take a few liberties with the original source play. Indeed, for sheer body count it will be hard to top writer-director Gardner’s The Ninja Cherry Orchard, now running as part of Fight Festival (a celebration of stage fight choreography at the Brick Theater in Williamsburg).

There is indeed a cherry orchard that really ought to be sold to pay off the Ranevsky debts. They are reluctant to sell though, because the Ninja Cherry Orchard has always been a significant source of family pride and a permanent connection to Russian history. However, they ought to clear cut it, since the orchard is also the source of the Ninja’s power. As in the original, NCO opens with the Ranevskies’ emotional homecoming from Paris. They are met by a family friend, Ermolai Lopakhin, a former peasant who is now a wealthy merchant. Lopakhin has a plan for saving the estate, but it hardly matters, because when the Ninja shows up, all bets are off.

Not to give anything away, but do not get too attached to any particular characters, except perhaps Fiers, the old footman, who emerges as the secret Kung Fu master who has the key to destroying the Ninja. What follows plays out like the martial arts fantasy of an adolescent boy bored to death with a stuffy production of Chekhov. At first the audience will wonder how long the troupe can keep the joke going, but it soon becomes apparent they can maintain the inspired lunacy all night.

NCO is a riotous, over-the-top theatrical experience that gleefully defies traditional critical criteria. (Frankly, I laughed like a simple-minded idiot the entire time.) Still, it deserves credit for mounting a very effective looking production, particularly the fight scenes directed by Qui Nguyen and Alexis Black. Indeed, the entire cast proves laudably game for the challenge of NCO’s unique take on Chekhov. In particular, Aaron Baker has the perfect stately but idiosyncratic presence for the Kung Fu master-domestic servant.

Featuring many elaborate martial arts sequences NCO is exactly what Fight Fest is all about. It is also unapologetically funny. Ultimately, NCO is just a great time at the theater. Fight Fest continues at the Brick through December 20th, while the madly entertaining NCO has been extended past the festival, with an additional four performances scheduled for January 7th to the 10th.

On-Stage: Light in the Dark

Love is fleeting and death awaits us all. Welcome to Russian drama, performed in this case as part of a cross-cultural meditation on the intimate connection between love and inevitable loss. Consisting of two Anton Chekhov one acts, Swan Song and The Bear, each proceeded by a musical interludes, Theatre Han’s thoughtful inter-disciplinary production of Light in the Dark opened last night at Theatre 54.

The Korean word “Han” translates variously as “one,” “wide” or “all-encompassing,” and also “sorrow,” all of which are quite fitting descriptions of Theatre Han’s approach to Chekhov. Light begins with “Salpuri-chum,” a traditional Korean mourning dance incorporating a flowing white scarf. Performed by Master Sue-Yeon Park with stately elegance and masterful precision, it is an intriguing introduction to the program and an effective prologue for Swan Song, which features a protagonist of advancing years wrestling with his mortality and failures.

Vasily Vasilich Svetlovidov was once a dashing young actor with tremendous promise. Now he is a drunken shell, stumbling through parts that were once beneath him. Having passed out after a cast party, Svetlovidov awakens later that night in the darkened theater. Assuming the building is deserted, he is forced to confront his loneliness and regrets, until the homeless prompter Nikita Ivanich appears, attempting console the wretched veteran thespian.

A one-act that might be familiar to some from Kenneth Branagh’s short film adaptation, Swan has a profound sadness that is universal yet distinctly Russian at the same time. Director Frederick Waggoner stages the two-hander with judicious economy appropriate to the stark nature of the play. L.B. Williams is quite impressive as Svetlovidov, conveying the mounting anxieties and innate theatricality of the aging actor. He is nicely complimented by the more restrained Ivan De Leon, as the shy but equally insecure Ivanich.

The second entr’acte features soprano Seung Hee Lee alternating with Insuk Kim, performing “Pamina’s Aria” from Mozart’s The Magic Flute, with Moon Young Yang’s sensitive piano accompaniment. It is a beautiful rendition of a dramatic lover’s lament from a relatively light-hearted opera. As such, it serves as a nice transition to Chekhov’s more comedic The Bear.

Yelena Ivanovna Popova’s husband has been dead seven months, but she persists in mourning him. It is not as though Popov deserved it though. He was unfaithful and cruel, yet she clings to her grief in an act of almost existential spite. However, when the brash Grigory Stepanovich Smirrnoff comes to collect a debt supposedly owed by her late husband, he immediately rubs her the wrong way in a Tracey-Hepburn sort of way. Suddenly, all bets are off.

Han artistic director Alice Oh is just fantastic as Popova, displaying nice comedic timing while maintaining complete credibility as the angst-ridden widow. Federico Trigo also shows a good flair for comedy as Popova’s loyal servant Luka. Together they keep The Bear brisk and breezy in an effective contrast to the considerably darker Swan.

Light is a well conceived blend of Slavic, Asian, and European cultural elements. Though the interludes might sound like unrelated non-sequiturs, they actually provide a fresh framework to present Chekhov’s well-known one acts. A rewarding night of theater, music, and dance, Light runs through December 20th at Theatre 54.

(Photo credit: Ho Chang)