The Company Theatre stages a Chekhov primer with 'The Seagull' 

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Yes, this is the Chekhov play with the gun. And yes, there’s a seagull. If that’s all you know about “The Seagull” and you’re looking for a straight-forward introduction to Anton Chekhov, you can find it in The Company Theatre’s production playing at the School of the Arts Black Box Theater through April 30.

As the audience settles into the intimate theater, decorated with skinny white tree trunks and a wooden platform behind makeshift curtains, the characters onstage get ready to watch their own play.

Konstantin Treplyov, an aspiring young playwright, has cast his love interest Nina in an original, experimental play. As family and friends gather to watch, several love triangles are set up: the local schoolteacher Medvedenko sits on a blanket beside the object of his affection Masha, who pines for Konstantin. Konstantin’s mother Arkadina, a famous actress and self-absorbed diva, watches with her love interest, the young published novelist Trigorin, who immediately attracts Nina’s attention. Konstantin is devastated to lose Nina’s romantic interest, especially when he fails to win her back by presenting her with a dead seagull. Yes, you read that right. The seagull’s blood is the first splotch of color in this dreary Russian landscape.

Even for those who didn’t read this play in school, the production makes it clear throughout that it’s not an optimistic piece. The clothing is mostly black, gray, dark blue, or white. The set is simple, with tables and chairs added as needed as the play progresses. A few blue and yellow flowers brighten the return from intermission, but all colors are gone by the final scene.

The original play is set in the 1890s at a Russian country estate, but much like with Shakespeare, modern-day productions often freshen up Chekhov by playing around with the location and time period. The setting for this production, directed by Carl Del Buono, is ambiguous. The costume design by Kendall Del Buono is modern, though generic: wool sweaters, brown shoes, gray pants. At times, it appears to be doing its best on a small budget to evoke a historical time period. However, Masha, played by Campbell McDade Clay, dresses like a goth from the early 2000s, complete with fishnets and a vape. In the final act, Konstantin opens an Apple laptop, which is one of the only concrete attempts to modernize the play.

The lack of specificity in the setting and the neutral color scheme feels safe for a theater company that has “innovation” as part of its mission. It’s a sad play, so let’s make it sad. Some parts are funny, so let’s make them funny.

This production’s faithfulness to the text successfully captures much of the play’s humor. Despite its woeful characters, Chekhov considered the play a comedy. David Munnell is delightful as the aging estate owner Sorin, a wonderful contrast to his morose nephew Konstantin. Christopher Conway as Dorn, the doctor, and Rich Steele as Medvedenko also give strong comedic performances.

What’s missing from the production, though, is joy. One of the play’s most iconic lines comes when Konstantin defends his art: “Life must be represented not as it is, but as it ought to be; as it appears in dreams.” Later, Nina exclaims that her life is like a dream, but it doesn’t feel like one to the audience. The show is full of romantic pining, and on the page, the angst and passion of the flawed characters can be exhilarating. Del Buono’s direction and casting unfortunately doesn’t always capture the thrill that comes with love, even unrequited.

The male love interests, in particular, are performed with a deep unhappiness that smothers the chance of a romantic spark. Philip Detrick as Konstantin treats Chekhov’s language as though it were written by Aaron Sorkin, playing an unlikable man too obsessive and smart to slow down his speech for anyone else–think Jesse Eisenberg’s performance in “The Social Network.”

Then there’s Trigorin, who Jon Froehlich plays as standoffish and depressed. He doesn’t seem capable of enjoying anything, or being enjoyable. When Arkadina wants to keep Trigorin away from Nina, she seduces and has sex with him. There is little joy or romance in the exchange. Arkadina, played with stern calculation by Jill Rittinger, uses her body as a tactic, and Trigorin reluctantly submits.

These interpretations are disappointing, since Jess Ruby is charming as Nina. The character’s desire to be an actress is so pure that it leads her to spin in circles onstage, and she’s convincingly infatuated when luring her idol Trigorin into conversation. However, her unwavering admiration feels at odds with Trigorin’s rant about how unhappy he is with his writing. To quote a recent meme from the Barbie movie: “she’s everything, he’s just Ken.”

If you’ve never seen “The Seagull” before, this is a conventional presentation with some strong, albeit occasionally misguided, performances. If you’re familiar with the play, this version won’t be too surprising. Either way, this stark production is not as sad as it wants to be–when the highs aren’t high, the lows don’t feel as low.