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THEATRE: 18 JULY 2018
By SANDRA BOWDEN
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Stupid Fucking Bird, by Aaron Posner | Directed by Warwick Doddrell
New Theatre (www.newtheatre.org.au) | New Theatre, Newtown, Sydney | Until 28 July)
I am mature enough to admit that when I saw the title for this production, a “remix” of Anton Chekhov’s The Seagull, I was immature enough to snicker. From classic interpretations of the 1896 original through to modern reworkings, I’ve seen a few birds over the years — and occasionally, like playwright Aaron Posner, have both loved and hated the play.
Which is how Posner’s version and the name were born — from a flippant comment about trying an adaptation, but with a slightly more blunt title.
Director Warwick Doddrell opted to not write his own comments for the program. Instead, providing excerpts from an interview with Posner help establish his motivations and provide insight into the process of adapting a largely revered classic into a gloriously hilarious, occasionally harrowing and innovative subversion.
It’s also an immersive experience. Audience involvement isn’t always a successful or welcome inclusion, but it works here. There’s no fourth wall to break, because it really doesn’t exist right from the start.
First you hear the pounding dance music. Then you see the cast, frenetic movements and dance and the poster of Chekhov watching over the stage. The tension builds through tantalising pauses at the microphones before more dance, more frantic movement. Will the play ever start? Is it my imagination, or does Chekhov have a what-the-fuck expression?
This sense of the unexpected is brilliantly maintained over the next couple of hours. Glimpses of the original story of unrequited love, the agony of loss, the often futile pursuit of happiness and artistic meaning are cleverly modernised, reimagined and, as Posner himself admits, perverted.
The actors’ awareness that they are in a play, comments about the theatre space, the frustrations of being an artist and existential musings add to a sense of delighted tension. What on Earth will happen next? Ukelele, that’s what — and damned if that doesn’t work, too.
Every member of this ensemble of seven (Lloyd Allison Young, Gil Balfas, Brendan Miles, Mansoor Noor, Megan Smart, Annie Stafford and Kaitlyn Thor) is perfectly cast. Timing, energy and intensity are expertly balanced to keep us poor unwitting saps on the edge.
As I reluctantly left the theatre, not quite ready to turn on my phone, check my messages and exit this chaotic world, I looked back at Chekhov again. The expression now seemed a bit less bemused and a bit more “Bugger. Wish I’d thought of that.”
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