Going into the final preview night of The Birds at the Belvoir St Theatre, there is an immediate sense of anticipation. Adapted by Australian writer Louise Fox from Daphne du Maurier's terrifying 1952 gothic short story, this version flips the script on the original text and the famous Alfred Hitchcock film. Fox places a mother named Tessa at the centre of the avian apocalypse. The catch is that Tessa, her husband Nat, their children, and the neighbours are all played by a single actor: the talented Paula Arundell.
The play starts in pitch black darkness. You literally cannot see a thing. A conversation begins between husband and wife in the dark, and it takes a few moments to get your bearings and realise that one person is voicing every single part. Once you get accustomed to this dynamic, the narrative really opens up and the scene changes flow effectively.
Arundell's performance is on the whole very, very good. Carrying an 80-minute thriller solo is a massive undertaking under the direction of Matthew Lutton. She makes the story incredibly easy to follow. Her ability to clearly define different characters and establish the grim atmosphere is a true testament to her skill. The pacing is spot on, moving with urgency but still giving the audience time to breathe when needed. It is hard to avoid some conflicting directional choices in a one-person play, but Arundell navigates the stage well. A special mention goes to the incredibly clever use of a hidden treadmill to simulate walking. It is a very cool touch that adds a surprising layer of physical realism to her journey.
Where the play truly excels is in its technical execution. The Belvoir sound engineering always seems to be first rate, but here it is practically a co-star. The spatial use of sound is phenomenal. Between the sound design and the striking lighting, the production expands from a one-person show into a three-person play. The lights and the audio do just as much heavy lifting as the actor. The sound and lighting crew absolutely deserve to take a bow alongside Arundell at the end of the night.
When it comes to the horror elements, the results are a bit mixed. The visceral terror of the birds did not always land in the physical acting, but it definitely worked in the spoken descriptions. Arundell's chilling recount of the dead people they encounter is genuinely spine tingling. The vivid imagery she paints with her words is crystal clear. When the actual attacks happen on stage, her physical reactions as the victim are not always totally convincing. However, her portrayal of sheer, internal fear is absolutely gripping. The script also knows exactly when to let loose. The use of the word "f ** k" is held back with incredible discipline so that when it finally drops, it hits with massive effectiveness.
The play wraps up with a weird, abrupt ending that leaves you sitting in the dark wondering exactly what just happened. While the climax might be a bit polarizing, the journey to get there is atmospheric and engaging.
Rating: 4 / 5