Entering the Kings Arms feels like straying into a half-hearted spring-cleaning session. Photographs and memorabilia untidily circle the stage.
Teenager Birdy (author and sole performer Amy Lever) is an underachiever with poor examination results and an uninspiring job she has just quit, generating the unspoken sense of being a disappointment to her family.
Birdy has lived vicariously through / in awe of her charismatic friend, Bex. But when Bex discovers she has Portuguese roots and so is entitled to an EU passport, she does not hesitate to leave Birdy high and dry, departing for an extended stay in Europe. Birdy begins researching her own ancestry in the hope of finding similar news, but instead opens a can of worms her family would rather keep shut.
Birdy is not a particularly likeable character; she does not know what she wants and is unhappy with what she has got—a teenager in other words. Birdy’s grandfather calls her a lost girl, pointing out had she really wanted to travel, the absence of an EU passport is not an insurmountable obstacle—there are other options. The dramatic situation is initially underplayed, with Birdy’s misadventures being mundane—being caught travelling without a valid bus ticket—rather than powerful.
Amy Lever plays Birdy as younger that her 19 years—she seems on the verge of whining "it’s so unfair" as she gazes out of a bus window enjoying her self-pity. Although she might not actually tell lies, Birdy is immature enough not to speak up and correct the misunderstandings of other people even when this has dire consequences. Yet it is possible to sympathise with Birdy as she considers her life choices; having effectively put all her eggs in one basket by concentrating on her friendship with Bex, she finds herself lonely as other classmates leave for university.
Impressively, Lever makes Birdy’s shift towards maturity credibly bumpy and full of false starts. When Birdy discovers evidence of a lost family member, her response is not selfless, rather she practises how she will announce the news to her family and enjoys imagining their grateful reactions.
Director Helen Parry does not blend smoothly the prosaic and amusing tone of the early scenes with the more thoughtful developments towards the conclusion. Although a dream sequence gives a degree of foreshadowing, a dramatic shift towards examining the impact of cultural norms upon individuals feels a bit abrupt, and the necessary exposition stands out in the narrative. The transition from apparently mundane to more profound is eased by Birdy’s narrow view of life, which means she, as much as the audience, must come to terms with the revelations.
The use of a character with such low-self-esteem makes Lost Girl a refreshing journey of discovery as Birdy finds herself maturing (however unwillingly) and becoming willing to take chances.