“The Walls Must Come Down”: Theatre Erindale’s glorious ca-caw-phony
Theatre Erindale’s production of Yvette Nolan’s The Birds blends the carnivalesque with the contemplative in a profoundly poignant exploration of Indigenous sovereignty and ethical land use.
A smooth-talking populist leader rises to power under false pretenses and insists on building a wall. Though an apt description of contemporary politics, what I’m really referring to here is the plot of Theatre Erindale’s latest production of Yvette Nolan’s The Birds, a 2013 reimagining of Aristophanes’ ancient comedy.
The play follows two explorers, Jack and Gulliver, who flee an unnamed city to escape the grind of urban life, civic responsibility, and legal consequences in search of “freedom.” When the birds attempt to drive them away, Jack convinces them to build a “utopian empire” in the sky—a wall separating earth and the heavens—positioning the birds as intermediaries between gods and humans (totally for the birds’ sake and not at all a self-serving commercial scheme). At its heart, The Birds grapples with rejecting capitalist and colonial values in favor of communal systems grounded in collective approval rather than hierarchy.
Theatre Erindale’s use of contemporary references and witty one-liners offers comic relief at just the right moments, balancing comic levity with the play’s heavy philosophy. The play’s political ideology reverberates in ways that feel invitational rather than confrontational, encouraging constructive dialogue surrounding land dispossession and settler colonialism. This is reflected by a rather thoughtful land acknowledgement that moves beyond superficial gestures, inviting the audience to contemplate Indigenous land-use reclamation and how to engage ethically with the world.
The set design is nothing short of innovative. Rather than a consistent spotlighting of center stage, the overhead lighting rotates from different corners of the room. This sort of dynamism is emphasized in crucial moments of the play, where the lighting is used to saturate the space with vivid, enveloping shades of colour. Sound designer Joseph Tayler’s clever use of directionality expands the sense of space, with sound originating from different areas of the theatre. This auditory element, coupled with amplified stomping and bird calls, adds a layer of spatial depth that makes the experience truly immersive.
I appreciated how the costuming was used to communicate with the audience, a standout example being the use of a synthetic feather duster to act as the hoopoe’s plumage. Equally noteworthy was the cast’s physical and vocal embodiment of the birds. From the perfect recreation of the jittery, skittish energy—constant shoulder shimmies, head tilts, and flittering steps—to the distinct and precise articulation of bird calls, it’s hard to believe these actors were not just briefly possessed by avian ghosts.
While we’re discussing vocals, the singing in the production cannot go unacknowledged. The ensemble’s unblended unison vocals accompanied by simple yet powerful percussive rhythms created a hauntingly beautiful soundscape that lasts with you even after the play ends. Overall, Theatre Erindale’s The Birds is a quintessential example of theater’s ability to facilitate social and political consciousness without being overtly didactic and will undoubtedly keep the Erindale Studio Theatre buzzing with playgoers and birdwatching enthusiasts alike.
