Anton Chekhov’s 1896 play The Seagull takes place at a country estate by the lake – which is precisely what one sees when sitting at the Barbican Theatre in London. The audience is where the body of water would be, turning the stage edge into the shore, with the centre of the set (designed by Magda Willi) occupied by reeds from which actors emerge. Folding chairs add a relaxed atmosphere of a country retreat.

The Seagull is one of Chekhov’s four classic plays (along with Uncle Vanya, Three Sisters and The Cherry Orchard) that explore psychology and relationships under duress – young and old fall in love, have affairs and family difficulties, and mostly struggle between obligations towards their close ones and their personal agendas. 

Much has been changed for the play to fit the 21st century. For example, Semyon Medvedenko – portrayed by Zachary Hart – was originally a provincial teacher, as this used to be the lowest-ranking member of a society at an estate in Russia; here he shows up as Simon, a working-class labourer from England, with a guitar.

The staging proved Chekhov’s play timeless, so it is not surprising that people flew to London from all over the world to see Irina (Cate Blanchett), Kostya (Kodi Smit-McPhee), Nina (Emma Corrin) and Trigorin (Tom Burke) – and that the show’s entire six-week run was completely sold out well in advance.

Undeniably most captivating is Cate Blanchett’s portrayal of Irina Arkadina – on the stage, she became a selfish, narcissistic actress who loved herself so much that nothing was left for her son, Kostya. Smit-McPhee’s performance as Kostya was phenomenal – it’s not an easy job to bring to life a character of a depressed son who attempts to become a writer, but is pulled down by his self-centred mother.

The central mother-and-son axis is completed by the relationship between Trigorin and Nina. Trigorin, a famous writer and Irina’s boyfriend, is known to be one of the most unfathomable characters written by Chekhov.

Tom Burke performed the part in a way that (deliberately) left more questions than answers. Did he really love Irina? Was he wise or not? Did his books have any literary worth, or did they merely appeal to a sentimental mass readership? He was a difficult character to portray, but Burke did a fantastic job.

What lifted the weight off the three-hour performance were almost standup-like interactions with the audience. Not only did these keep the audience focused, but also allowed for a discussion between a 19th-century-written character and audience members from the modern world. 

This brings us to the play’s central question: to what extent is theatre important? Is staging classics necessary? The answer was there, at the Barbican: Chekhov’s play hasn’t aged between 1896 and 2025, and still allows us to seek answers to the essential questions of life.