A fierce exploration of acting and misogyny featuring fabulous performances, theatrical chaos and dark comedy that’s perhaps overly constrained by conventional storytelling.Rating
Good
You can read the letters of playwright Chekhov. They’ve been published in numerous volumes over the years, and they present a complex figure. He clearly loved actors, going so far as to marry one, yet also seemed endlessly irritated by them. Is this, perhaps, why he gives Nina, the young actor in The Seagull and the inspiration for this theatrical investigation, such a grim time of it?
Writer and co-director Caroline Williams, co-director Deborah Pearson, and their outstanding cast are, to be fair, not interested in the famous Russian’s motivations. Their hearts lie with the female actors drawn to Nina’s complexities and contradictions. One of her speeches has become such a popular audition piece that it’s now ubiquitous on YouTube. Search, if you don’t believe me.
The audition process is central to Nina. We watch actors trying to impress a visionary director, Goran (Rowan Polonski), and his nepo-baby writer, Tim (Joseph Payne), in scenes that vary in length, style and inappropriateness. Maya Bartley O’ Dea, Samantha Begeman, Gemma Barnett and Nina Bowers excel as auditionees. Bartley O’Dea also has some of the best lines as a deadpan, put-upon assistant director.
The message is consistent. Women are treated appallingly. Sometimes through big, grotesque actions, but not always. Acting with and for men often comes with microaggressions and, ultimately, a startling lack of compassion. The threat of sexual violence hovers over everything and manifests itself in a brief but powerful metaphorical act from Payne, who was, tellingly, childlike and innocent in the preceding action. However, it’s not the focus of the action here.
This is unashamedly acting about the process of acting. If you’re an average Battersea Arts Centre audience member, however, I figure you can tolerate a degree of artistic navel-gazing. It’s heavily gendered too, obviously, focusing on how female actors navigate the male ego and imagination. This laser-sharp focus works to its advantage. We know where we stand. We know what we’re witnessing. It doesn’t necessarily make it easier to watch, though.
It did cross my mind that watching misogyny unfold is in itself misogynistic. In one extended scene, we are asked to watch a potential Nina discuss a lost pregnancy and then ‘give birth’ to a baby that, in the play, will die offstage. This seems an offensively unreasonable ask for an audition. Way too intrusive, but following that logic, is it also unreasonable to ask someone (in this case, a magnetic Bowers) to do it for an audience, even if you’re referencing how unreasonable it is? This kind of meta, circular thinking is clearly no accident. We’re asked questions, but no easy answers are forthcoming.
This all sounds heavy, and parts are, but there are also plenty of comic reminders that acting is often a ridiculous business. Indeed, the final few minutes descend into ripe Grand Guignol campness. I say descend, but this was one of the show’s definite high points for this reviewer. Earlier, the wheels fall off the ‘real’ production of The Seagull in a gloriously chaotic sequence that mocks pretentiousness and lets Nina literally fight back in a fit of screaming abandon. Both scenes are wonderfully engaging. Elsewhere, we get more mundane action, and a chat show feels like a slightly lazy, soapy, unimaginative way to tie up the story. The show is at its best when it abandons narrative. The chaos may confuse, but it is far more affecting.
The good news is the barnstorming performances are worth the ticket price alone. To borrow a well-known truism, they prove that female actors need male directors like fish need bicycles. Ninas, past and present, I salute you.
Writer: Caroline Williams
Co-directors: Deborah Pearson and Caroline Williams
Dramaturg: Christopher Brett Bailey
Video Design: Daniel Denton
Associate Video: Jacob Krumpolc
Lighting Design: Marty Langthorne
Composition/Sound Design: AJ Turner
Movement: Laura Dannequin
Producer: Kate Yedigaroff
Casting Director: Nadine Rennie CDG
Production Manager: Milorad Zakula
Sound Associate: Alexander Comana
Artist Wellbeing and Associate Director: Linzy Na Nakorn
Set and Costume Designer: Tomás Palmer
Associate Designer Set and Costume: Victoria Maytom
Outside Eye: Martin Hutson
Nina plays at Battersea Arts Centre until Saturday 24 October.
