The Bluebird Mechanicals

Days later I can still hear the birds, squawking at each other as they debate humanity’s ineptitude: “Stupid…human….stupid….human….AARRRG.”

You’re more than an observer in the audience of The Bluebird Mechanicals, you’re committed to taking a ride that is at times awkward, uncomfortable, vulgar, intense, humorous and mesmerising.

You do not leave the theatre unmoved, just as you can’t leave a relationship unchanged, but what you do feel can take a while to process.

If you’ve studied Anton Chekhov in high school (and it was clear a large portion of this audience had) you’ll have some idea of the depths and angst that are being explored in this world premiere, a co-production between Canada and Australia.

An examination of Chekhov’s The Seagull forms the framework for this one-woman, multi-dimensional experience that explores climate change, relationships and humanity’s lack of responsibility for the world that has us “gliding to oblivion”.

When Canadian-born writer, co-devisor and performer Talya Rubin sits primly in her chair as a Russian woman and nails you with a stare that accuses and dismisses you at the same time, you feel lost. When she argues with her dead (puppet) lover in the boat, you feel guilt. When she commentates the final hours of the Hindenburg airship’s voyage into New Jersey before it bursts into a fiery hell, you feel trapped, and when she takes two little birds and sets them up centre stage for a discussion on whether humanity is worth the fuss, you feel defeated.

At the end Rubin reminds us that: “to know we’re real is to know we’re here”, and that at least leaves a glimmer of hope for a future where we can learn from mistakes.

For 90 minutes, Rubin builds an intense installation theatre work, manipulating puppets, rearranging props and sets, and filming miniature sequences which are projected on screen.

When actors interact with video projections, timing is crucial, and happily for this production, the blending is seamless, creating one of the more memorable visual moments with Rubin, playing Chekhov’s Nina at this point, getting lost in the haunting river glades.

The Bluebird Mechanicals is an intense one-woman show that is performed well, within a budget, and it is obvious that a team of like-minded, talented individuals have contributed to the final edit. There are 14 such individuals to be exact, including co-devisor and director Nick James, sound designer Hayley Forward, lighting designer Richard Vabre and video designer Sam James who all have multiple projects on the go this year.

While the episodes in this production are intentionally disjointed, the emotions they elicit are calculated and compounding and you find yourself feeling more than analysing the text.

The Bluebird Mechanicals could take you out of your comfort zone but the team at Too Close To The Sun would argue that’s exactly where they want you.

Debra Bela

Photographer: Samuel James