Review: FIREWING at Hampstead Theatre

A scenario which begins by stretching credibility, quickly degenerates into implausibility as the two men from opposite ends of the age spectrum, rub each other up the wrong way and say sufficiently unpleasant things to one another, to call time on their brief encounter almost before it has begun. 

In David Pearson’s FIREWING directed by Alice Hamilton, the lad Marcus (Charlie Beck) and the established wildlife photographer Tim (Gerard Horan) address each other as mate and son but from the outset appear hostile and mutually disrespectful. They originate from the same postcode - which we learn, is why Tim chose to give the lad the prize opportunity, (that and his winning image of a rare and notoriously shy osprey, apparently captured on a busy beach while he and his father were eating fish and chips along with a multitude of holidayers). Aside from the fact that any novice ornithologist would pour scorn on the likelihood of such a scenario appears to have been discounted. Later, we are asked to believe that the image was AI generated and that it fooled a world renowned wildlife photographer. 

We open in the shack, where the toilet doesn’t flush, and the word shit is thrown about for shock value. The youth isn’t permitted to touch a camera until he’s read a huge manual and we long for the narrative to move on to an explanation of why things aren’t quite what they purport to be. The thread where Marcus feigns a migraine to get Tim out of the way so he can assess the value of the camera equipment, leads to very little of substance later down the line and the writer has resorted instead to using a missed call on Marcus’ mobile device to serve as the catalyst to a tepid revelation. 

Along with a chronological ambiguity there’s a very real sense that the piece has been rushed and the narrative journey never gets a chance to settle or its characters an opportunity to breathe. The timeline also creates a wholly confusing need for some fiddly set changes (on a design by Good Teeth pair James Perkins and Victoria Smart working within the confines of a small space) which result in a couple of painfully long interludes covered by loudish music presumably in a bid to disguise backstage noises. 

When — during the after show party —a tray of skewered fried chicken pieces appeared, it served as a painful metaphor for the mysterious Siberian winged visitor which provides the title of this woefully misjudged and underwritten play which neither takes flight, nor has much hope of doing so in its present form. 

FIREWING continues at Hampstead Theatre’s small space until 23rd May.