Blackbird
By David Harrower
Directed by Joel Greenberg
Featuring Jessica Greenberg and Hardee T. Lineham
Presented by Studio 180 in association with The Canadian Stage Company
Runs until April 4 @ Berkeley Street Theatre
By Matt McGeachy
Studio 180 has made a name for itself by producing excellent, politically charged theatre. The company entered the theatre scene with a bang with their production of The Laramie Project, and next season, their critically acclaimed production of Stuff Happens is part of the Mirvish season. The Canadian premiere of David Harrower’s acclaimed play Blackbird represents something of a departure of their usual work, and unfortunately it represents a departure from their usually high quality.
Una (Jessica Greenberg) shows up unannounced at Ray’s (Hardee T. Lineham) generic office. At first, we are uncertain about the nature of this relationship: Is she the other woman? A long, lost child? A flame from the past?
The answer, it turns out, is a disturbing mixture of all three. Una and Ray had a sexual relationship 15 years ago, when he was 40 and she was 12. Una has tracked him down, for reasons not entirely clear to herself, to Ray, or to the audience. The disturbing nature of this relationship gradually unfolds, but it does not become explicit until about a third of the way through the play. What is explicit, however, is that Una and Ray have both been wrecked by this affair from the past — Una seems stuck in a perpetual state of childish angst, and Ray has had to rebuild his life living with his transgressions. For their own reasons, neither has been able to fully recover and move on.
Given the dramatically charged nature of this relationship, why is the energy so low on stage? At times it seems as if the characters are played by robots. Jessica Greenberg speaks with such predictable patterns that the audience knew what she would sound like before she even spoke. Even at her most vulnerable and indignant, there seemed to be no emotional investment in the character; indeed, her long monologue detailing events after the initial affair was delivered with such low intensity that its potentially heart-wrenching dramatic effect was entirely lost. Her lines in this show that ought to pack a punch fail to do so, and the emotional arch of the character is nearly absent.
Hardee T. Lineman’s Ray comes closer to satisfying the audience’s craving for genuine emotion, despite the contrived confrontations with Una. From Ray we hear a separate story of the same event, and even come close to sympathizing with him. This challenging aspect of Harrower’s script should leave the audience feeling profoundly confused, but in this production we are left wanting. The moral ambiguity of the situation rests on our investment in these characters and our belief that he is not a sexual predator and she is not a nymphomaniac, but that they loved each other, however flawed that love might be.
Perhaps director Joel Greenberg deliberately wanted to provide emotional detachment, but why? This play deals with one of the most prized parts of our society – the sanctity of childhood; why shouldn’t we feel strongly emotional about it? Why rob these characters of their emotional realism? Moreover, why place it in such a dreary, realistic office break room (designed by Michael Gianfrancesco) if we are meant to detach from reality?
None of these questions are satisfactorily answered, and this play, robbed of its emotional intensity, stands shakily on half-solid ground, waiting for the actors and director to firmly plant both feet.
