Bird watching, like play watching, is a pastime of patient observation in the hope of witnessing the miraculous. Unfortunately, there’s little worth seeing in this clumsy black comedy. Two men meet in a bird hide in the small hours of the morning, one of them hoping to observe the elusive sociable plover, the other just wanting to get out of the rain. Both have secrets to conceal. There is the odd good line, but the show ditches observational comedy and lurches wildly into farce in the final act, throwing in guns, time bombs, and a villainous monologue in a vain attempt to generate some excitement. The playwright should have learnt from the bird watchers; sometimes observation is better than action.
This review was originally published here.