January 21, 1999
at the Mark Taper Forum
Reviewed by Rob Kendt
More poem than play, Ellen McLaughlin's Tongue of a Bird is as icy and
desolate as the expanse of Adirondack mountains over which her heroine, the
solitary search-and-rescue pilot Maxine, roams in her Cessna looking for signs
of an abducted girl. McLaughlin's themes are all stated, and restated often, in
the crystalline but unaffecting monologues she gives her charactersÑthree
generations of independent-minded women who turn to the skies, either literally
or figuratively, for solace and end up isolated, disembodied, whether in
madness, forgetfulness, or restlessness.
But in Lisa Peterson's curiously stiff new production, it is only
in the play's dialogues, especially between Maxine (Cherry Jones) and the
nervous-wreck mother of the lost girl (Diane Venora), that Tongue of a Bird gets a pulse
going. Elsewhere, it is tough to watch the brilliant, sympathetic JonesÑwho
exudes a seemingly effortless, down-home authority even in Maxine's most
vulnerable momentsÑhave to work so hard to give her long speeches drama. She
fares little better in the limply surreal passages in which McLaughlin has the
ghost of Maxine's mother (Sharon Lawrence) hover overhead in an Amelia Earhart
get-up, or has the bloodied specter of a girl who might be the object of
Maxine's search (Ashley Johnson) rollerblade teasingly around her. For all
their superficial peculiarity, both visions are predictably there to help
Maxine toward closureÑas is Maxine's Polish-American nana (Marian Seldes), who,
with her cute immigrant abruptness and vim, might as well be a vision, too.
Presumably Maxine's hallucinatory mid-life crisis is provoked by
her current search-and-rescue case. It's a strained, literal-minded
metaphorical connectionÑsearching, flight, mothers and daughtersÑbut it does
give us Venora's character, Dessa, a logorrheic parody of a single mom who
yearns desperately to do something about her daughter's absence. In Venora's
expert and fearless hands, Dessa is funny, pathetic, and moving; her scenes
with Jones' rueful Maxine on a nighttime Cessna flight are the production's
emotional high pointÑbut not, unfortunately, the play's.
Rachel Hauck's blue-sky set is distinguished mainly by its
absence, which is about right, but the multi-leveled sliding-door exits and
entrances, complemented by Mary Louise Geiger's dramatic lighting, are patly
portentous, as is Gina Leishman's two-tone music/sound design (ominous low
notes for the heavy recovered memories, skidding pan flutes for the ponderous
tonal shifts). Indeed, if Peterson's production feels stylized but strangely
uninflected, aestheticized but artless, it may be because beneath all of
McLaughlin's imagery and language, Tongue of a Bird is quite a
conventional narrative of emotional loss, recovered memory, and pyschological
healing. But like that ghost floating above Maxine, McLaughlin renders it from
an airless height when what it could use is a lot more earth under its feet.
"Tongue of a Bird," presented by the Center Theatre Group and the Joseph Papp Public Theatre at the Mark Taper Forum, 135 N. Grand Ave., Downtown L.A. Jan. 14-Feb. 7. (213) 628-2772.