Birdwatching revisits unnerving relationship

Blackbird, the preview
Theatre Inconnu (Oct. 5 through 20)
Written by David Harrower
Directed by Graham McDonald

Reviewed by Leah Callen

Blackbird, written by David Harrower, is a psychological drama in which two people flirt dangerously with the past behind a closed door. Una, who lost her virginity at the tender age of twelve to middle-aged Ray, confronts him in a room fifteen years later. Based on true-life sex crimes, Blackbird comes across as both disturbing and genuine.

Two utilitarian tables echo the twin beds in the hotel room where the couple once had sex; fast food wrappers litter the floor. Una contorts mentally before her abuser as they re-taste the past. The tension that binds her to him is palpable. Ray still remembers the subtle cues that trigger Una. He hums and haws and acts small to draw her closer.

Una’s body language conflicts with her words. While she lectures him on social codes, she perches on a table with her legs open to him. I found the pose unnerving. Jess Amy Shead plays Una with a Lolita-esque undertone that feels authentic and unsettling as the character flutters between anger, fear, disgust, and titillation. Something black in Una wants to be seen by this slouching Svengali, by the stare that first drew her in. She’s torn between the desire to poke his eyes out and to be stripped by his passive gaze.

Ray, played with creepy casualness at the preview by Ted Phythian but since replaced by Director McDonald, spends the play watching his bird, looking for a way to seduce her again. He resists his natural instinct for a second or two, but it kicks in. Her appearance makes him thirsty; she reacts with a thirst that seems unquenchable. He’s trained her to sing the tune he wants; he’s the classic predator who only feels sorry for himself.

The plot unfolds with rough, verbal foreplay. An old ease/unease creeps into the atmosphere like a match being struck. What’s most shocking is Una’s choice to stay in this metaphorical cage with Ray. She grimaces as she applies lip gloss, putting up with his poison. She could leave at any point, but there’s so much she needs to say, to shout out into the fluorescent flicker. A blackout jolts us into Una’s shoes. In the dark, we feel her fear and vulnerability on a primal level as she struggles on stage. I could not quite believe in the garbage play-fight between the two characters, designed to show the childlike level at which they meet.

Perhaps playwright Harrower was riffing on the old folk tune If I Were A Blackbird. This play could be a dark twist on that romantic sadness: a maiden abandoned by her first love, wishing to follow him as a blackbird wherever he sails. Unfortunately, there is nothing romantic about what Ray did to Una. The little girl just wanted hugs and chocolate, but he assaulted and abandoned her in the middle of nowhere. He was imprisoned for a short time, but we wonder if Una will ever be released. This play takes an unflinching look at sexual relationships, at the people we think we love but for our own good should let go.

Leah Callen is an aspiring poet-playwright-screenwriter studying at the University of Victoria.