Chekhov’s First Play

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Dead Centre’s latest production, Chekhov’s First Play, is a remarkable interpretation of the seminal playwright’s unequivocally unstageable first work. A precursor to many of the themes and characters of his later plays, Chekhov’s untitled first play was simply too cluttered to be performed. Never ones to shy from both a challenge and an opportunity, however, Bush Moukarzel and Ben Kidd, following their success with Lippy, have once again defied audience expectation and comprehension, dragging Chekhov’s oddity kicking and screaming into contemporary Ireland.

For fear of any possible confusion, Moukarzel kindly offers to help navigate the audience through the complicated play using a director’s commentary. Large headphones are supplied to each audience member which allow Moukarzel to whisper intimately into your ear. Quickly it becomes clear that the ubiquitous narrator will not be letting the audience sit back and relax. Having cut a huge amount from the original 83 scenes, Dead Centre’s production is violently raw and fragmented. What appears as a relatively straight-forward cast and setting is pervaded with unseen motives, characters and storylines. Accents falter, lines are forgotten, and the set is quite literally smashed to pieces by a large wrecking ball. Disgruntled with his actors, Moukarzel’s commentary dissolves as the play itself becomes splintered with issues of modern day Ireland. Originally representing different facets of the bourgeoisie, each actor in turn replaces Chekhov’s characters and his concerns with those of their own, blurring the lines between his Russia and our Ireland.

As costumes come off and microphones are removed, Chekhov’s First Play burgeons into its own distracted enterprise, blasting through the traditions of theatre and audience participation. Drills and sledgehammers accompany the violent shock of the burning wrecking ball, destroying the beautiful set and disintegrating Chekhov’s play in turn. With time all notions of what is real and what is theatre are lost. The headphones isolate each audience member, making them feel like the sole witness to the destruction, unique in our own singular experience and intimate understanding. Defying the impassive audience member, Chekhov’s First Play audaciously grabs us by the ears, and plummets us into the depths of our own relationship with the stage and indeed with the playwright. A recording of Miley Cyrus’ Wrecking Ball makes for a disturbing, if comic, ending.

Chekhov’s First Play is currently running at the Samuel Beckett. Tickets €15-€25.

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