Caroline Quentin is on her knees. Literally. ‘I’ll need kneepads,’ she laughs, considering the sheer theatrical gymnastics required to play Arkadina in The Seagull. Chekhov’s play is a bruising comedy of vanity and ambition, where ageing stars cling to relevance, young writers storm against the system, and love affairs detonate like stray grenades. In the Lyceum’s new production, Quentin takes on the formidable actress at the heart of it all, a role she has been waiting most of her career to play.

‘I did this play around 38 years ago,’ she says, ‘and I’ve always wanted to play this role.’ Back then she was a young actor on the rise. Now she brings the experience of decades in comedy, drama and theatre to Arkadina, a woman who can dominate a room with her presence and crush her son’s artistic hopes in the same breath. Quentin sees her as part grand dame, part survivor. Asked who Arkadina might be today, she answers crisply: ‘Helen Mirren, Maggie Smith or perhaps Barbara Windsor.’

This production marks the start of James Brining’s tenure as artistic director of the Lyceum, with playwright Mike Poulton adapting Chekhov’s script. For Quentin, it’s not just about the pedigree; it’s about the alchemy of being in the rehearsal room with a cast that includes Forbes Masson, Tallulah Greive, Lorn Macdonald, Dyfan Dwyfor and Irene Allan. Edinburgh audiences will see familiar faces on stage, but Quentin is just as interested in the spark of collaboration as she is in star billing.

If there’s a sense of full circle, it comes from the city itself. Edinburgh is where Quentin’s career began in the early 90s, performing Arthur Smith’s Trench Kiss at the Fringe, meeting the Comedy Store troupe and learning improvisation. Around the same time, she landed the audition for Men Behaving Badly, the sitcom that made her a household name. It was in Edinburgh that she first tested herself against audiences who didn’t give away their laughter cheaply, and it’s here she returns decades later to test herself again with Chekhov.

Away from the stage, Quentin’s life is just as busy. She describes walking, painting and writing as her ‘trifecta of happiness’ and rehearsals in Edinburgh have given her space for all three. Her first book, a Sunday Times bestseller about gardening, proved her popularity beyond acting, and she is now working on her second. The deadline, she admits, is a little wobbly. ‘I’m late in submitting the next 10,000 words,’ she confesses, though she seems more amused than stressed.

Staying in a New Town flat has helped. ‘The lighting is perfect,’ she says, praising the natural brightness that allows her to sketch and paint when she isn’t memorising lines. There’s also the lure of the Highlands, where she plans to escape for a weekend before opening night. Fresh air, walking boots, sketchbook in hand: it’s the kind of reset that keeps her balanced when stage life demands intensity.
Television remains part of the picture too. Quentin appeared in the first season of Bridgerton as Lady Berbrooke, before disappearing from the series as quickly as she arrived. Her theory? ‘I think Lady Berbrooke must’ve died in a scone accident or something,’ she deadpans. It’s the kind of throwaway gag that has always been her trademark, whether in sitcoms or serious roles. For all her successes, from Men Behaving Badly to crime-solving in Jonathan Creek and Blue Murder, Quentin still treats each new project as a challenge. The Seagull is not just another role; it’s a test of stamina, wit and emotional power. And yes, she may need those kneepads.

The Seagull, Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh, Thursday 9 October–Saturday 1 November; read our interview with Tallulah Greive.