2014’s hottest “new” playwright may well be none other than the Russian master Anton Chekhov, his 19th Century classics having inspired not one but three current hits: Christopher Durang’s Vanya And Sonia And Masha And Spike, Donald Margulies’ The Country House, and now —most Chekhov-specifically—Aaron Posner’s inspired meta-dramedy Stupid Fucking Bird, currently being given a sensational West Coast Premiere under the ever-inventive direction of Michael Michetti.

The dour, black-clad Mash Amberson (Charlotte Gulezian) kicks Stupid Fucking Bird’s storyline in motion by informing her schlumpy, unrequitedly lovestruck companion Dev Dylan (Adam Silver) that “I’m in mourning for my life,” our first clue that Stupid F–king Bird (as reviewers writing for more family-friendly media will be forced to spell it) is none other than Chekhov’s first masterpiece The Seagull, with Mash a stand-in for Masha and Dev for Medvedenko.

 In fact, all five remaining characters—stage-and-screen star Emma Arkadina (Amy Pietz), her famed-writer lover Doyle Trigorin (Matthew Floyd Miller), her wannabe scribe son Conrad Arkadina (Will Bradley), her aging brother Dr. Eugene Sorn (Arye Gross), and aspiring actress Nina Zachery (Zarah Mahler)—are straight out of The Seagull, albeit with slightly altered names. (“Sorn” turns out to be a composite of the original Chekhov duo “Sorin” and “Dorn.”)

Plotwise, Stupid Fucking Bird sticks closely to the original as well, as does the next paragraph to one in my review of The Antaeus Company’s The Seagull a couple years back:

 40something star Emma, a Diva with a capital D, loves the renowned Doyle, while the stage star’s manic-depressive 20something son pines over actress-in-training Nina, who finds herself attracted to the far more dashing Doyle, pined over by goth chick Mash, whose sweet but hotness-challenged suitor Dev only has eyes for Mash.

There may never have been so much unrequited love as there is in both The Seagull and Stupid Fucking Bird, nor has unrequited love en masse ever been so entertaining.

What sets Posner’s take on Chekhov apart from the original is not just an updated time frame and a more contemporary vernacular (e.g. expect to hear the second word in the title used as just about every part of speech from start to finish).

 Stupid Fucking Bird’s most deliciously 21st-century twist may well be its characters’ awareness that they are indeed characters in a play—a fact that they make us well aware of again and again.

To begin with, Con won’t even let Stupid Fucking Bird get started without audience participation. “The play will begin when someone says, ‘Start the fucking play!”, he informs us, and indeed waits until someone in the audience shouts out that command.

Later, in a rant about the state of contemporary theater, the playwriting hopeful complains about the tininess of the casts today’s tight budgets will allow, making Stupid Fucking Bird’s ensemble of seven seem downright huge. “Yes, I know I’m in a play,” he tells us looking us straight in the eye. “I’m right here and you’re right there, and since you can see and hear me let’s just assume I can see and hear you….” (Talk about meta!)

Con even goes so far as to ask us advice about how best to impress Nina and win her love, then goes on to ad-lib depending on what responses he gets back. “Show her your picture in the program,” my guest refrained from replying, which would have been a meta-tastic tip. (Of course we Seagull scholars know what Con’s gift to her will be.)

Those with a familiarity with the Chekhov original will laugh the loudest at some of playwright Posner’s cleverer lines, as when a petulant Con suddenly blurts out near the start, “I’m going to shoot myself in the head,” and (on a related note), just as Chekhov wrote it a century-and-a-half ago, one of Stupid Fucking Bird’s most dramatic moments happens Chekhov-style, i.e. away from our eyes—and with a bang.

And it wouldn’t be The Seagull without its Act One play-within-a-play featuring Nina as its solo star, though this time Con insists on calling it a “site-specific performance event.” (Whether Boston Court audiences call Con’s would-be masterpiece “crap” will depend on their tolerance for youthful pretentiousness: “Here we are. Here we are. Here we are,” Nina intones in all seriousness.)

 Still, you don’t have to know The Seagull to enjoy Stupid Fucking Bird. Being someone with a love for smart plays and playwriting is enough.

Stupid Fucking Bird’s cleverest ensemble moments are a mash-up of inspirations, both playwright’s and director’s. The cast rattle off pre-show announcements one-by-one before Con invites us to help him get the “fucking play” on the road. A choreographed roundelay straight out of a chamber musical reminds us of just who-loves-who (without being loved in return). And the Act One finale has each character expressing his or her wishes: “to shine,” “to not be hated anymore,” to have “sweet first kisses” or “a bottomless bowl of ice cream,” before Con reveals (offstage of course) what he wants most.

Casting director Julia Flores has once again gathered as sterling an ensemble of performers as have graced the Boston Court stage, beginning with the incandescent Pietz, whose Emma does indeed look entirely too young to have given birth to an adult son, but whose desperation to maintain youth, romance, and career (not necessarily in that order) is entirely human … and beautifully played.

 The chameleon-like Silver and the Sarah Silverman-voiced Gulezian are a perfectly matched pair of misfits, whose melodious vocalizing and ukulele-strumming are an added plus. Mahler couldn’t be lovelier or more heartbreakingly real as a Nina blossoming to both sex and romance. Miller makes for a dashing, dynamic (and entirely too full-of-himself) Doyle, while Gross brings wisdom, wit, and gravitas to the sorrowful Sorn. Most thrilling of all is the charismatic, compelling Bradley, making a welcome return to the West Coast as the smoldering caldron of emotions that is Con.

(Understudies John Bobek, Emily Goss, Travis Michael Holder, Jolene Kim, Jeffrey Alan Nichols, Stasha Surdyke, and Mark McClain Wilson take center stage on July 7 and 9.)

 Not surprisingly, Stupid Fucking Bird is gorgeously designed. (At Boston Court, who could expect less?) Stephanie Kerley Schwartz’s expansive set has a fresh-cut lumber look and scent that proves just right for a Chekhov takeoff, and does surprisingly “homey” things in Act Two, Sean Cawelti’s projection design and Jenny Smith’s properties design aiding immensely along the way. Mallory Kay Nelson’s costumes match each character to a T (with Pietz and Miller doffing them entirely for as intimate a full-frontal love scene as you’ve likely seen on any local stage). Elizabeth Harper’s lighting is gorgeous, Robert Oriol has contributed a terrific sound design (and musical direction), with James Sugg’s original music another major plus.

Katherine Hoevers is assistant director. Kate Jopson is dramaturg. Andrew Lia is production stage manager.

Edgy and cutting-edge as you’d expect a Theatre @ Boston Court/Circle X Theatre Company co-production to be, Stupid Fucking Bird is also as accessible and entertaining as any production I’ve seen at Pasadena’s premier intimate theater. And it’s not stupid at all. No fucking way.

UNDERSTUDY CAST PERFORMANCE:

The “B Team” rocked The Theatre @ Boston Court at last night’s first understudy performance of Aaron Posner’s Stupid Fucking Bird, providing proof positive that actors as sensational as John Bobek, Emily Goss, Travis Michael Holder, Jolene Kim, Jeffrey Alan Nichols, Stasha Surdyke, and Mark McClain Wilson can deliver performances every bit as powerhouse—and polished—as those whose roles they cover.

The difficulties faced and surmounted by this stellar septet make their work all the more remarkable.

To begin with, unlike The Antaeus Company’s “partner cast” productions (where pairs of actors playing the same role attend rehearsals and create their shared character together), these understudies did not take part in the lengthy rehearsal process leading up to previews. Yes, once the show was up they could observe the main cast and take notes, and they did get five understudy rehearsals before last night’s debut performance, but this represents but a fraction of the prep afforded the “A Cast” in the six-plus weeks before opening.

Still, even these challenges might have proved more easily surmountable with a play and production less demanding than Boston Court’s Stupid Fucking Bird, but Posner’s script is dense, there are multiple lengthy monologs, and director Michael Michetti’s blocking is intricate and precise, with sound and lighting cues galore.

And yet, miracle of miracles, what must have been an extraordinarily intensive five rehearsals with assistant director Katherine Hoevers paid off in seven performances so outstanding, I would defy anyone to determine which cast had rehearsed longer after seeing both.

Understudy extraordinaire Jeffrey Alan Nichols positively dazzles in the play’s biggest, meatiest, most challenging role, that of artistically frustrated, romantically lovelorn Conrad, an electric performance that any top-drawer 99-seat-plan theater would be proud to tout.

Stasha Surdyke does her finest work to date as Emma, vanishing inside the stage-and-screen star’s self-assured, self-involved skin … and quite stunningly at that. The always wonderful John Bobek does exciting, winning work as the schlumpy Dev opposite an excellent Jolene Kim, drily, dourly delightful as the eternally dark Mash. (Bobek scores extra points for his expert mandolin-picking.) The enchanting Emily Goss could not be lovelier or more moving as as the object of Conrad’s affection, taking the ethereal Nina from troubled to tormented to tragic. A memorable Travis Michael Holder exudes warmth, wisdom, and old world charm as the ailing Sorn, while Mark McClain Wilson completes the cast to engaging, dapper effect as the self-absorbed Doyle.

Like apples and bananas, Stupid Fucking Bird’s two amazing yet quite different casts are each of them a scrumptious treat. I’m so glad I got to savor both.

–Steven Stanley
July 7, 2014

The Theatre @ Boston Court, 70 N. Mentor Ave., Pasadena.
www.bostoncourt.org

–Steven Stanley
June 28, 2014
Photos: Ed Krieger

Tags: Aaron Posner, Amy Pietz, Anton Chekhov, Arye Gross, Circle X Theatre Company, Los Angeles Theater Review, The Seagull, The Theatre @ Boston Court