Fear and loathing in Cloudcuckooland

Purists, beware! The world of ancient Greece has been invaded by real estate salesmen, Vegas showgirls, computer nerds, and televangelists. In the Yale Repertory Theater's newest production, a modern adaptation of Aristophanes' The Birds, playwright Len Jenkin fuses an ancient plotline with modern twists, preserving humankind's timeless quest for innocence while updating some of the drama's anachronistic themes.

The Birds: Adapted by Len Jenkin, Directed by Christopher Bayes COURTESY YALE REP What goes better with sex than violence?

The production explores the whimsical world of Cloudcuckooland, an avian Utopia inhabited by an eclectic troupe of anthropomorphic birds. Chock full of humor, slapstick, spectacle, cartoon-like sound effects, musical interludes, and bird lore, The Birds delights the senses while delivering a healthy dose of social satire. Where Aristophanes criticized philosophy and government, Jenkin parodies sleazy comedians, academics, politicians, and other modern objects of ridicule. Simultaneously satirizing humanity and portraying the search for a modern Utopia, the play exposes both the good and the evil inherent in man. Las Vegas and Cloudcuckooland, symbolizing these two extremes, show us the dark world of the present and the light of the ideal realm that the play suggests each of us unconsciously seeks.

Staged entirely by the 2001 graduating class of the Yale School of Drama, The Birds takes the foundations of Aristophanes' 2,400-year-old drama and builds a burlesque production to suit the theatrical palette of the 21st-century audience. We begin our journey in the glittering metropolis of Las Vegas—the urban embodiment of humankind's degeneracy, superficiality, and vice—watching the painfully cheesy stand-up act of failing comedian Venable Smoke (Rio Puertollano, DRA '01). In short order, Smoke and his geeky agent, Arnold Sand (Remy Auberjonois, DRA '01), are ejected from their performance venue, the Solar System Casino Hotel, as a result of their massive gambling debts. A frenzied sequence of events ensues, as Smoke and Sand travel forth from Vegas, eventually landing in the celestial kingdom of Cloudcuckooland. Here they meet Queen Popsy (Kathryn Hahn, DRA '01), an ex-Vegas showgirl turned yellow-breasted peacock, and her gaggle of feathered friends. As the play continues, Smoke assumes control of the Utopian kingdom, and mobilizes the birds in a building project of cosmic scale.

The production as a whole is resoundingly successful in both entertaining and exposing humankind's folly and hypocrisy. Its greatest triumph, however, is its creation of sheer spectacle. The Birds is a delicious feast for the senses from the opening scene to the fabulous choral conclusion. We travel from the hauntingly lit, sparsely furnished abode of the Ornithologist (Pun Bandhu, DRA '01), to the glitzy world of a Vegas casino, to the cactus-studded Sahara Desert, and finally through the clouds to the magical sphere of Cloudcuckooland. Framed by a Grecian stone arch and bordered by fluffy cotton-ball clouds set against a glowing sky-blue background, the birds' paradise is a theatrical bonbon: exquisite, perfect, and melt-in-your-mouth sweet.

Despite its lush backdrop of sights and sounds, The Birds would fall flat on its proverbial beak, degenerating into cheesy slapstick, were it not for universally excellent acting. Watching the production, it's easy to forget that graduate students rather than professional actors are weaving the fantastical web of whimsy unfolding onstage. In her role as Queen Popsy, Hahn shines with a mixture of quirky humor, tough-girl gruffness, and touching humanity. Her range and versatility provide the highlight of the first act, as Popsy relays the story of her showgirl-to-peacock transformation to her astonished human guests. Complete with exaggerated facial expressions, voices, pantomimed gestures, and an unexpected nap sequence, Popsy's storytelling scene illustrates Hahn's prowess as a comic actress.

The unassuming Sand also stands out from the flock. Auberjonois brings his geeky, spineless character to life with a slightly hunched walk, peering eyes, a continually bewildered expression, and periodic starts of distress. High-pitched whimpers, girly screams, and a corny nervous laugh further entertain.

The colorful avian personalities that fill the stage of The Birds create the interest and substance of the play. The comic plot assumes secondary importance, and seems a bit overdone at times. Although the production in its entirety is a wonderful sensory treat affirming the fundamental innocence of humankind, the only moments when it seems to stretch its own boundaries of credibility occur when the play becomes too plot-driven and loses its focus on the characters. In these instances toward the end of the play, the action becomes boring, and humorous parodies devolve into mere slapstick sight gags. For the most part, however, The Birds remains on track, delighting the audience with its feathered friends.

Toward the conclusion of the show, the timeless message of Aristophanes' drama shines through the modern trappings of Jenkin's adaptation. After driving out a series of money-grubbing human visitors who seek to commercialize their paradise, the birds of Cloudcuckooland discuss the incorporation of humans into their Utopia. The Birds suggests that humankind will be far better off if we all strive to emulate the production's avian ideals, in spirit if not in deed, fostering in our hearts the boundless goodness that Cloudcuckooland symbolizes.

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