“Inspired by Anton Chekhov’s classic The Seagull, NINA brings off-stage power dynamics centre stage to explore gender, exploitation, and theatre, itself.”
NINA, on at Battersea Arts Centre through 24 October, accomplishes what so many modern plays cannot: repurposes a well-mined classic into something genuinely relevant to contemporary audiences.
Although multiple characters in NINA marvel at the timelessness of The Seagull, Caroline Williams’s 90-minute play applies themes and characters from Anton Chekhov’s iconic drama to an entirely new story. Here, The Seagull becomes the play-within-the-play and the narrative engine is the casting process for the role of Nina in an avant-garde revival. When so many modern adaptations make half-hearted changes to their source texts, it is refreshing to see a piece of theatre that is not afraid to explode a classic and repurpose the pieces into something brand-new.
Of course, NINA is in conversation with its source text. There are cheeky references to today’s use of “Chekhov’s gun” and the play extends the metaphor of the seagull within The Seagull from 1896. NINA likely operates on a different level for Chekhov experts, but is still salient for those who do not claim the knowledge. The script specifically challenges the 21st-century cultural climate and is self-described as uniquely of “a post #MeToo era.”
NINA most brilliantly represents the insidious, frog-in-boiling-water nature of manipulation and exploitation in the real world. There is a suggestion that even well-intentioned protection measures can be weaponised to obscure mistreatment. Despite the volume of recent discourse regarding the harassment and abuse of women, NINA reflects the unique vulnerability of actresses. The events onstage speak to a universal female experience, but most directly to those who have suffered through the humiliations of the casting process. Williams uses refined dialogue to depict the subtle ways that celebrity and “genius” can exacerbate power dynamics under the guise of process, both in and out of the audition room.
The play demands exceptional performances across the board. The actresses on stage demonstrate a balancing act; they perform through the character of an actress delivering the same performance. Maya Bartley O’Dea, Samantha Begeman, Nina Bowers and Gemma Barnett become inseparable from their characters just as their characters become inseparable from Nina. Begeman and Bowers have the most emotionally and physically taxing roles, which they perform with chilling authenticity. Joseph Payne and Rowan Polonski embrace their ‘villain’ parts, so to speak, but their humour and likability are what make them so believable. Polonski is both sinister and disarmingly charming as the celebrated director. Payne, O’Dea and Barnett garner the most consistent laughs.
In NINA, life imitates art. There is an uncomfortable dissonance in the experience of watching women perform scenes against their characters’ implicit or explicit consent. It’s an intentional reminder of the dynamic between audience and performer and the sacrifices required to survive as an actor, but certain moments are difficult to watch. The play is largely recognisable but at times veers into a sort of surrealism that disrupts the clarity. These moments will likely delight and alienate audiences, depending on taste.
The most memorable parts of NINA are its humour and its fantastic performances, but its ideas also linger, offering its audience new reflections on ongoing conversations.
Nina runs at Battersea Arts Centre until 24th October. Tickets here.