The Bird and The Bee

Last year, a UNICEF report concluded that Britain’s teenagers were the unhappiest in the developed world. The recent spate of "MySpace suicides" in Bridgend certainly seems to confirm this. Moved by these events, acclaimed theatre company Kandinsky—the group behind Al Smith’s much-lauded Enola and Radio—has delved head first into the murky world of web-life-after-death with The Bird and The Bee, two plays written by Smith and Matt Hartley that tell opposite sides of the same story.

In Hartley’s The Bee (3 stars), 15-year old Chloe Bell is forced to confront the local celebrity that a tragic personal loss thrusts upon her. Her peers bombard her with Facebook friend requests—her count goes from three friends to over 250 in a matter of weeks—and, seeking solace from her sudden popularity, she befriends Jacob online.

Smith’s The Bird (4 stars) is Jacob’s story – a near monologue of every detail of his life. His dramatic birth, deteriorating relationship with his overprotective Russian mother and his confusion over his feelings for Chloe vividly bring to life a character that is only experienced as a voiceless figure in The Bee.

Hartley’s play sets up the premise of this theatrical experiment with great precision; Chloe’s grief, boredom and perplexity at her life is played out with touching vulnerability, while the medley of supporting characters serve to make her feelings of insignificance seem even more acute.

But it is The Bird which really shines. Subject to extensive re-writes over the first few days of its Fringe run, Smith’s new production is written with delicate wit and sophistication. Some lines stand-out more than others for their lyrical brilliance – Jacob’s verdict on the “chaotic love affairs” of the rules of the English language is especially captivating. Bathed in ominous light, Tom Ferguson brings Jacob to life with stunning intensity, despite tripping over a few lines in the process. While The Bee over-concentrates on the vagaries of Facebook fame, The Bird dissects the depths of humanity’s abject miseries in style, offering up a play that’s wracked with anguish and regret.

Together, they work as an absorbing—though slightly unbalanced—portrayal of teenage despair in a world that has forgotten how to take care of its children.