Flat.
The Birds, produced by Belvoir St Theatre, holds a lot of potential. A one-person performance – a category extremely popular these days – it intends to bring the horror and hysteria of the Daphne du Maurier short story to the stage. Unfortunately it does not, as the performer and director fail to electrify.
Louise Fox‘s adaptation of du Maurier’s work focuses on Tess (Paula Arundell), the unnamed wife of Nat from the short story. The core plot remains the same – birds begin attacking humans without explanation, followed by a complete societal collapse – but the setting is now a remote Australian coastal town. Arundell, through some entertaining vocal work, plays Tess, Nat, their two kids, and a smattering of other roles.
Despite playing several characters, Arundell’s performance is limited in energy. She seems weighed down by the script, which forces her to narrate the story rather than experience it. Taking on this narratorial duty means that the horror of the book is lost. Arundell cannot tap in to the suspense, mystery and chaos that is required to give the play a heartbeat. She occasionally attempts to do so but is quickly forced back to telling the audience what is happening rather than showing it, which is a real shame.
Production elements, fortunately, are more notable. The set (Kat Chan) is intentionally sparse, creating a sense of exposure that mirrors the characters’ growing vulnerability; every window and empty corner feels charged with possibility and preemptiveness. Lighting (Niklas Pajanti) is used with striking precision, shifting from warm domestic tones to dark shadows in the blink of an eye, emphasising the abruptness of the unknown. Composition and sound design (J. David Franske) bring out the suspense more successfully, with laughs, cries, crackling radios and the smashing of windows building some tension.
Matthew Lutton‘s direction strips the production of excess and gives Arundell the chance to flex her distinguished ability. Though this is a very promising approach, too much has been stripped away. Rather than presenting uncertainty, and allowing the audience to interpolate their fears into the narrative, the production is a display of paucity. The action moves too slowly and with a limited display of the havoc the birds cause. As a result, it is not as gripping or impactful as it could be.
Ultimately, The Birds feels like a missed opportunity. The production’s style doesn’t align well with its narrative, and Arundell’s talents are not used to their maximum. What could have been a perfect winter horror tale is unfortunately reduced to something less.
