Local playwright Keith Huff’s foray into the world of schizophrenia is as unstable as its protagonist. Bird is haunted by a pigeon who begs him to fly, as his pregnant wife and social worker beg him to stay focused on the ground. After a failed suicide attempt which is lyrically explained at the start, Bird finds work at a local factory, where macho posturing and juvenile taunting eventually push him over the edge. The pigeon stays with him, despite his desperate attempts at normalcy, until the final moments when he decides whether or not to fly again.
The play starts with a brilliant and emotional monologue that makes the audience sit up and understand. However, like the stereotype of mental illness it tries to emulate, Birdsend eventually slurs and stumbles its way to a melodramatic ending. Matt Murdock is engaging as Bird, the mental outpatient whose introduction includes a convincing break from a straightjacket. Robin Witt and Sara Oliva make their short moments on stage worthwhile; Witt as a harried but tough social worker and Oliva with a quick but hilarious take on the foot soldiers of managed healthcare. Seamless sound design from Joseph Fosco helps us stay with the players, however, I personally resent the idea of free jazz as a metaphor for mental instability.
The play really starts to unravel in the second act, as Huff manically inserts “explanations” for specific events, rather than continue with the flow that nicely mimicked Bird’s mindset. An unchoreographed (or, if replicating the more obvious moves of the World Wrestling Federation is enough, staged) fight scene in the factory reminds one of some of the worst of the teen moral plays on ABC’s After School Specials. Beyond the fake slaps, though, it is the playwright who is really at fault. Wrapping up loose ends with a juvenile take on unionizing and a speedy moment into Bird’s childhood is, at best, frustrating.
This play could work well, with its imaginative characters and introduction. Unfortunately, Huff’s writing doesn’t stand up to the test. Through unnecessary plot devices and uninformed references, Birdsend evolves into an immature paean to the elusive freedom of pigeons and doves.