The Seagull

Bravo! Bravo!

Coming through.

Uh, I have the carriage ready, sir.

Hi.

Where's my sister?

Shamrayev went to the theatre.

She'll be here any minute.

I'm gonna miss this old world.

I wish...

I wish I had seen more of it.

No, don't talk nonsense.

Well, you've seen more of it than I have.

- (HORSE NEIGHING) - Oh, I think they're here.

Masha, come with me.

Ma'am. - Oh, Polina.

- Sir. Good evening.

Masha.

- Kostya. Hello, Mother.

(GASPS) Look at you.

- How is he? How am I? (CHUCKLES)

They found it necessary to write for you to come,

so I must be seriously ill.

Konstantin?

Your mother tells me you're not angry with me anymore.

Boris brought the magazine with your new story in it.

Show him.

That's very kind of you. Thank you.

While Sorin is resting, why don't we play a game?

- Should I get the lotto set, Mama? Yes, dear.

You have many fans in Moscow. Everyone's always asking about you.

And did you like the story?

I'm planning on reading it on the train back to Moscow.

So you'll be leaving soon?

Tomorrow, probably.

Polina, how can I help?

I think we're ready.

(SIGHS) Yes.

Boris, come.

We never played when you were here in the summer.

We usually play lotto when the long nights set in.

This is my mother's old set.

It's a stupid game, but after a while, you don't notice.

Kostya. Shut the window. It's drafty.

You should have heard the reception they gave me tonight.

- Oh'. - (SOY-UN CHUCKLES

My God. My head's still spinning from it.

Are you in, Konstantin?

No, Mama. If you don't mind, I'm gonna work for a bit.

The stake is ten kopecks. You'll put in for me, won't you, Doctor?

Certainly.

- Have we all put in? I'm in.

You ready? Here we go.

Twenty-two.

- (PIANO PLAYING) - Konstantin's playing.

He must be unhappy, poor lad.

Seventy-seven.

They've been having a go at him in the newspapers.

He can't seem to find his own voice.

Well, I believe in Konstantin.

There's something there. He thinks in images.

His stories are striking. I'm affected by them. Aren't you?

MASHAZ Eight.

Eighty-one.

Oh, Papa.

One more time, from the beginning.

No, if I don't get home now, my father won't let me come back later.

Ride with me.

I can't. There's too much work to do.

I'll see you tonight.

Don't be late, and study your lines.

HEY -

I love you.

Kostya!

I'm putting the puppets over here.

Want one?

Uh, no. (CHUCKLES) Thank you.

Why do you always wear black?

I'm in mourning for my life.

Why?

You're healthy. You have enough money to get by.

Life's a lot harder for me. I'm a schoolteacher.

I hardly make anything.

You don't see me all in black.

It's not about money.

Even a poor man can be happy.

Every day, I meet with nothing but indifference from you.

Stop it, Medvedenko.

I'm touched by your love.

I just can't return it. That's all.

Wens)

- Now, this is a theatre. Masha.

Masha, wait!

The curtain will go up at 8:30 sharp, when the moon is rising.

- Exciting. - Of course,

if Nina doesn't get here soon, the whole effect will be ruined.

God, she's already late.

Don't be impatient.

You know what her father is like?

I have one thing to ask you. I have one word to say to you.

Champagne. Did I not ask for champagne

- this morning in my... - Sweetheart, sweetheart.

- Did I not ask for it last night? - Sweetheart, we're out.

No, I wanted it upstairs in my bedroom.

Why is my sister in such a bad mood?

Why?

She's bored.

Jealous.

She's already set against me and the play

because she's not acting in it, and Nina is.

She already hates it.

Your mother adores you.

She also knows I have no respect for her theatre.

She thinks she's dedicated to serving humanity

with her sacred art, but as far as I'm concerned,

the modern theatre is trite and riddled with cliches.

When they take cheap, vulgar plots

and cheap, vulgar speeches and try to extract

- some easily digestible moral, - (CHUCKLES) Oh, God.

I want to run out of the exit and keep on running

the way Maupassant ran from the Eiffel Tower

because its vulgarity was crushing his brain.

- We need the theatre. - What we need are new forms,

and if we can't have them, then give us nothing!

(IRINA CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY)

Boris!

Come. Come here.

- (HUMMING A TUNE) - (CLAPPING RHYTHMICALLY)

Hey!

What's the gossip on him?

He's smart, actually.

Unpretentious.

Kind of melancholy. Pretty decent, really.

Not even 40, but he's already a celebrity.

Maybe a little full of himself.

These days, he drinks a lot of beer and makes love to older women.

Well, when I was young,

I passionately wanted two things.

I wanted to get married. I wanted to become an author.

I never managed either one.

Nina, hello!

Even the thought of her makes my heart race.

L am insanely happy-

My muse, my dream.

- Please tell me I'm not late. - No.

I've been worrying all day. I rode like a madman to get here.

- It's all right. We're alone. - (OBJECTS CLATTERING)

Is that you, Yakov?

Yeah.

We'll start when the sun sets. Get everyone ready in their places.

- Is the moon rising? - Yep.

- (GROANS) - Arise, fair sun,

and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief.

Wens)

Why are you so nervous?

I'm not.

Well, I'm not afraid to perform for your mother,

but Boris Trigorin, he's so famous.

I'm embarrassed to act in front of him.

He looked young.

He is young and accomplished, don't remind me.

His stories are incredible.

- (GAGGING) - (CHUCKLING)

Well, his stories are full of life.

In your plays, everyone's dead.

My goal is to show life the way we experience it in dreams,

not the way it is or the way we think it should be.

Yes, but nothing happens in your play.

It's all talk.

I think there should be a love story.

"A country place," they called it.

And I was standing in the back...

It's getting damp.

Go back before the play starts. Put on your boots.

- I'm too hot. - (CHUCKLES)

You're too stubborn. Your feet will get wet.

You're a doctor. You should know better.

Oh, look at that. We're gonna be sitting in the woods.

You like her. Admit it.

Who do you like?

Masha, please ask your father to unchain his dog.

Otherwise, he'll be howling all night.

Ask him yourself.

Shall I sit next to you, Doctor?

Darling son, when do we begin?

In a minute. Please be patient.

Gentle son, upon the heat and flame of thy distemper, sprinkle cool patience.

Mmm. - (ALL LAUGHING)

O gentle Mother, let me wring your heart

- if it be made of penetrable stuff. - (GASPS)

Look here upon this picture.

You cannot call it "love," for at your age,

the heyday in the blood is tame.

It's humble.

O you honourable ancient shadows,

which drift among us

as night descends upon this lake,

lull us to sleep, and let us dream

of that which will come to be in 200,000 years.

In 200,000 years, there'll be nothing.

Then let them show us nothing.