Jonathan J. Miner
Three people on a stage wearing various improvised protective hats, including a colander.
Carrie Sweet, left rear, Kendra James and John Jajewski in Mercury Players' 'The Birds.'
This October, there’s something ominous in the air: thousands of murderous birds.
In this production of The Birds by Mercury Players Theatre, audiences are invited into an isolated house with Diane and Nat, who take shelter from relentless avian swarms that come and go with the tide. The audience sits directly on stage left and stage right, facing the living room set in the center (designed by Gretchen Wheat). The curtain closes just before the opening scene begins, which creates a sense of isolation and claustrophobia that lasts for the entire 80-minute show.
The production kicked off, appropriately, on Friday the 13th and runs through Oct. 28.
Written by Irish playwright Conor McPherson in 2009, The Birds bears little resemblance to Alfred Hitchcock’s 1963 film but is inspired by the same 1952 short story by Daphne du Maurier. Ornithophobic viewers don’t need to worry about dive-bombing birds; the impression of the deadly flock comes through the sounds of beating wings, squawking, and pounding behind the set. (Benjamin Barlow and John Feith designed the sound for the show).
Though the empty house provides temporary safety from the birds, Diane (Carrie Sweet) and Nat (John Jajewski) quickly realize that their sanctuary has no electricity or food, so they must make daily trips outside during low tide when the birds aren’t active. When a young woman named Julia (Kendra James) enters the house with a head wound, she brings some much-needed lightness and humor to the situation. However, Julia soon creates discord in the household when she begins behaving suspiciously.
This production’s strength is its quiet eeriness. The story is just as much about the turmoil inside the characters’ own minds and between each other as it is about the physical threats they face. As Diane, Nat and Julia’s situation becomes more desperate, their actions become more frenzied and unpredictable. The costumes and props become sloppier, too. Audiences might draw comparisons between this story and their own experiences sheltering in place during the coronavirus pandemic — a parallel that can make the experience of watching the show even more unnerving.
The acting is excellent. Each character is captivating and unique. And even though the reclusive neighbor, Tierney (Carl Cawthorne), appears only for one scene — stumbling into the house with a basket over his head — his ominous gruffness leaves a lasting impression. One element missing, though, was chemistry between Nat and Julia. The audience learns that the two have begun a sexual relationship behind Diane’s back, but this news doesn’t come across as believable. The mother-daughter-like chemistry between Julia and Diane was more intriguing but isn’t fully explored.
Ultimately, The Birds invites audiences to sequester themselves with these characters and accompany them on a descent into paranoia and delusion. It’s delightfully spooky and thoughtful — a perfect show for the Halloween season.
