Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *
Cast: Edmund Wiseman, Emily Bowker, Selma Brook, Max Bowden, Cloudia Swann, Peter Duncan, Emily Altneu, James Staddon, Liam McCormick, Roger Martin, Alastair Whatley, James Findlay.
Even in the foul grip of war, there must be a love that carries the soldier across the boundary between the stench of perpetual death and the sanity that is provided by having something to live for. Love in the midst of war is what keeps the thoughts of ordinary men from turning into barbarians and for those who do the fighting, whether above ground, on the fields of No Man’s Land or in the tunnels, love can be the saving point. Love is a peculiar Birdsong.
Sebastian Faulk’s Birdsong has perhaps never been more relevant as the countries of Europe remember the slaughter on industrial scale that World War One bought to every home. The novel is one that rightly receives praise for its contrasting look and subtle differences at war in love and love in war; the television adaption in January 2012 showed the difficulties of such works of art transferring from one artistic medium to another and left a gaping hole which arguably meant it was destined to stay in book form, if it was to remembered for all the right reasons.
Rachel Wagstaff’s stage version of Birdsong does much to repair the damage done by television and comes out with a much keener sense of the claustrophobia felt as the audience is subjected to the horrors of those the army designated sewer rats but for whom faced a far greater danger than could possibly imagined. The tunnelling underground, not for vital coal or for the riches of diamonds of gold but for the senseless addition of adding casualties to the enemies depleted ranks, was one that had its own peculiar dangers, the possibilities of gas, of being caught whist tunnelling or of premature explosion, was one that stifled and contracted the thought of heroism.
When placed against the moments of war of a different kind, remembered by Stephen Wraysford in carefully and well managed flashback and played with great diligence by Edmund Wiseman, the same conflicting aspect that comes hand in hand with the feeling of claustrophobia, the love triangle that mirrored the damage that war can wreck upon families and homes was played out as if sending out advance warning to all who embark on the folly of either action.
War between countries can be seen to mirror personal relationships, sometimes constricting, sometimes brutal when one tries to dominate another, at times claustrophobic and liable to explode sooner than expected when the depth of charge is placed wrongly; sometimes you just have to step back and let the decay sort itself out.
With Peter Duncan adding huge swathes of gravitas to the production in his role as Jack Firebrace and Cloudia Swann giving an excellent nurturing aspect in her twin roles of Jeanne Fourmentier and the nurse, Rachel Wagstaff’s stage version of Birdsong is a much more admirable proposition to watch than could have been previously imagined. With the scenery being used to great effect and inventively being used to highlight the small differences in the cracks and decay in the relationships of Stephen Wraysford, Isabelle Azaire and Rene Azaire in the pre-war years, the play is to be applauded.
Ian D. Hall