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Some of my colleagues complain that we see too much Chekhov these days. Personally, I find his great quartet of mature plays inexhaustible, but with three major productions arriving in less than a week - Peter Stein's Seagull opens in Edinburgh on Monday, followed by Katie Mitchell's Three Sisters at the National on Tuesday - even I must concede that it is perhaps possible to have too much of a good thing.
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Gish plays the role with hilariously luvvieish affectation while also suggesting the desperate neediness that lies beneath. The no-holds-barred row with Trigorin, played with a lovely weak-willed vagueness by Philip Quast, is thrilling to behold, climaxing with Gish undoing his flies and sitting astride him as she showers him with compliments
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