By Jennifer Beasley.
A binaural sound experiment allows The Birds to come to life and asks the question that who would win at the end of the world, Man or Nature?
Writing horror for the stage is a tricky thing, and when you present a monologue at 80 minutes, so many factors must pull together.
From a script by Louise Fox (Glitch), based on the 1952 short story by Daphne Du Maurier, this mostly faithful retelling of a mother, Tessa, in a seaside town dealing with her own and her husband’s anxieties, has been updated to a contemporary Australian feel.
We start the play by putting on the headphones to hear the miked-up voice of the actress Paula Arundell playing Tessa, and the sound effects of multiple birds and haunting music, as supplied by J. David Frenzke. The conceit of the many birds, the species and subspecies rolling off the tongue with relish by Tessa, is a stand-in for our unnamed fears. In 1952 it was the cold war. In 2025? That seems to be more difficult to grasp, although perhaps finger pointing to loss of habitat and climate change does well to address this, without being too on the nose.
The story centres on Tessa, a rather nervous and fear driven mother of two children, whose husband, Nat, has suffered a breakdown, and they have relocated to the seaside to rest and recuperate. The varied characters that Arundell transitions to in this monologue is to witness a true craftswoman at work. With vocal and expressional shifts, Arundell voices her two children, Nat, a neighbour, Muriel, and an unnamed grumpy farmer. These voices work well, although with the headphones supplied, voiceovers could have also been used. Television and radio coverage give information; the indifferent attitude to the bird attacks, then more credibility as the attacks grow, until there are military messages and finally – silence.
It’s the silence that gets you.
Director Matthew Lutton (sadly his last season at Malthouse) has set himself a big task here with this show, and at times you can feel the story of The Birds behave erratically, particularly after the second half (The first half is simply brilliant). A simple stage is ringed by items that are not even used in the performance, and some items, such as the bedding and the chair, are lugged around by Tessa to the detriment of the play. Superb lighting by Niklas Pajanti helps pull this story back on track, although he could have gone further, and the descriptors voiced by Tessa straight from Du Maurier’s story seem at times at odds with the modernisation of this foray into a woman’s journey to overcome her fears and accept her fate.
Too much exposition also spoils what could have been an outstanding story. The destruction of the military helicopter sent to help them would have been better presented with sound and lights, as would the discovery of Muriel. I say this as the bird attack on Tessa was done with finesse and incredible acting, and my imagination easily saw the gore and blood gushing from the many wounds.
The use of time, from six hours before the next attack to Tessa’s anxious waiting for school to end to pick up her children, give a tonal overlay that ramps up the tension.
The final scene as Tessa let go of her anxieties felt a little rushed and more support with sound effects and lighting would have implanted the true horror and the ultimate price that Tessa and mankind are asked to pay.
Overall, I wanted this to reach the heights that I could see this play scaling; however, it’s still an incredible achievement to turn a short story into a script that can make you uncomfortable and leave you wondering how your own fears prevent you from living in the moment and finally be at peace.
Definitely worth seeing for the experience alone, and to bask in the abilities of a gifted actor.
The Birds plays at 7:30pm at The Malthouse Theatre until the 7th of June.
Image: Pia Johnson
