Stupid F***ing Bird stands on its own two feet, bringing honesty and integrity to a world that is greatly lacking it.
Aaron Posner—the playwright and adaptor of this year’s fall Brock Mainstage Stupid F***ing Bird—made it a point to avoid cliché, using simplicity, honesty, vulnerability and passion in its place. The play, put on by DART students in the past two weeks, is a contemporary adaption of Anton Chekhov’s 1896 play The Seagull.
In the directors’ note, Hayley King and Gyllian Raby discussed Posner’s work, saying that he wrote his adaptation of The Seagull out of a “deeply equivocal love for and frustration with Chekhov.” It would be ignorant to say that the Russian dramatist didn’t transform late 19th-century theatre with his unique innovations. But Posner’s feelings about Chekhov come from a place of frustration that these innovations, which were once new and fresh, have become ubiquitous.
Stupid F***ing Bird—a meta-modern version of The Seagull—takes its original framework and expands on it, exploring themes of love, loss and what it means to be uniquely human.
Upon entrance to the theatre, audience members are immersed in a stunning set, designed so simply it screams of complexity as well as an underlying fear of normality. With a kitchen, a dock and a backyard fire pit, the stage settles nicely in the hollow little space that has been set aside for it.
Con, played by Lucas Charters, is the first to enter the space. While they may have been one of many protagonists in Stupid F***ing Bird, Charters stands apart from the rest of the cast. In particular, their physical acting suggests the work of someone who has far surpassed the role of the student.
Shining radiantly beside them was Nina, played by Victoria Marshall. While at first the character of Nina felt perhaps slightly overplayed, Marshal settled into her role beautifully when it came down to the nitty-gritty. The tumultuous love story shared between Con and Nina proved that both actors were absolute standouts.
But the connection between Con and their mother, Emma, truly made the show spectacular. While not everyone is likely to have a famous mother like Emma, who was played by Jamie Elliott, the harsh and fragmented relationship they shared was incredibly relatable. Con’s constant need to impress their mother and to be liked by her pulled at the audience’s heartstrings. And while Emma herself admitted that she wasn’t the best of parents, she was an incredibly truthful depiction of a person thrust into motherhood far too early. Both actors showcased their character’s inner struggles so honestly that it was hard to believe they weren’t mother and child at all.
In their directors’ note, King and Raby concluded by saying:
“The play has launched us on significant conversations, including … intergenerational relationships, social alienation, the experience of being different in a small town, the necessity of live theatre … and the extraordinary importance of the arts in bridging cultural divides.”
Stupid F***ing Bird opened up doors to new worlds, asking questions of its audience that made bodies squirm and faces crumple. As the stands that housed audience members for the play sat opposite to one another, the play involved not just watching the actors act, but also watching fellow audience members engage with that acting.
Simply put, Stupid F***ing Bird provided an incredibly clever way to interact with the theatre as an audience member, while still achieving total immersion in the art itself.
This fall’s DART Mainstage Stupid F***ing Bird revitalized the art scene on Brock’s campus after a long summer drought. Expanding on themes of love, loss and what it means to be uniquely human, Stupid F***ing Bird asks its audience hard questions about what truly makes art art.