"I'm a writer; I just turn everything up," declares Diane (Sinéad Cusack), defending what she's written in her diary to teenager Julia, who has sneaked a peek and doesn't like it. Conor McPherson has turned everything down in his version of Daphne du Maurier's short story, also the source of Hitchcock's movie. An ambiguously open tale of nature's revenge on humanity becomes a claustrophobic and bland thriller overlaid with some musings about writing, God and the survival of the fittest. The live birds that flit desultorily across the stage at the end sum up a long evening that is about as menacing as slice of pigeon pie.
Only the name of Du Maurier's central character, Nat (Ciarán Hinds), survives here. He and Diane, both damaged survivors of family break-up, are thrown together when they take refuge in a dilapidated old house that has a resident corpse upstairs. As the birds rise and attack the house, Nat and Diane start to form a bond, but the relationship is broken by the arrival of Julia (Denise Gough), whose presence initially sees them all playing happy families but eventually ruffles feathers and stirs murderous instincts.
McPherson's play is sadly lacking in mystery, texture and tension. Right from the start it seems poised awkwardly between comedy and melodrama, naturalism and something more heightened. Not surprisingly the actors seem unsettled, perching in their roles rather than fully inhabiting them.
