‘The Hummingbirds’ @ Blackberry Theatre (Deep Ellum)
Graphic design and photos by Na’Tori Harris,
Lucky Friday Design Studio
—Jan Farrington
The premiere performance of American playwright (and long-ago Edward Albee student) Garret Jon Groenveld’s The Hummingbirds, a small play with a big take on authoritarian (and dystopian) society, was staged in Bucharest, Romania in 2012—a place where, I would have commented back then, “knows about such goings-on.” Now, though, I’m not feeling quite so smug, and the story feels much more possible—closer to home—as it cautiously reveals itself over an intense 90-minute span.
Though just two actors are onstage, this is a chewy piece of theater, and a hopeful start to artistic director Charles Jackson Jr’s newly opened Blackberry Theatre, up a long (I mean long) flight of stairs in a vintage Deep Ellum space. It’s both the directorial debut of actor and creative Rayven Harris, plus a showcase for two compelling actors, Bev Mageto (One) and Nissi Chepkirui Sigei (Two).
Welcome to the Employment Office of an un-named city and nation. The air is full of mottos and inspirational (?) one-liners: “If you can walk, you can work” … “Bodies of and for the people” … “Assume to stay ahead.” Odd sayings, but not as odd as the world we’re learning about by piecing together the clues that characters One and Two drop as they talk.
They’re the two employment counselors we find in the stark office setting: two piles of files on their desk, and unseen people standing before them, coming one by one to hear what’s next for their lives. The two women assign the jobs—some are prearranged by higher-ups, but others are theirs to try and “fit” to one of today’s people.
The jobs grow ever more absurd—a tall woman might make a good “hummingbird catcher” … a “munitions tester” would be provided with a hammer … and the need for a “drafter of semicircles” leaves us clueless. There appear to be many job openings for “strippers,” a word that will collect meaning and emotion as the play moves on. Why so many strippers and “strip establishments”? Could it mean something else (antique furniture restoration, perhaps)? If not, what’s going on in this seemingly buttoned-down city, where the evening’s “second bell” is obeyed like Holy Writ?
Mageto and Sigei both present a flat surface that somehow stays very watchable. (Kudos to them and director Harris for these clean, reined-in performances, and stage manager Olive Dickerson for a minimalism onstage that clearly took hard work.) Neither counselor, we find, knows the other’s real name, and attempts to winkle out details of their personal lives (both try it) are met with disapproval from whichever of them feels more righteous in the moment.
Conversations about “the spouse,” or the lack of mayo on a sandwich, can get incredibly awkward, even tense. (The actors do a master class in sidelong glances and the non-catching of eyes.) Job counselor Two comes late one day (her tram was delayed (by a bomb and a flaming human). Counselor One has a “side project,” but won’t say anything about it, though she’s coolly pleased that her skills have been noticed.
We are the audience, the observers—perhaps behind a two-way mirror, perhaps not. Workdays and lunch breaks pass with a blackout “blink” and a soft chime, the time spending itself, the sameness of the days showing small cracks and differences.
Within the playwright’s tight frame, Sigei’s Two is fragile and nervous, flustered by home problems she can’t talk about, while Mageto’s One feels more measured and controlled, upright, hard to read. Their one outburst—an occasional exchange of “Damn terrorists!”—sets our brains to churning out ideas and images of the world outside the office, though we know almost nothing. Are those pistols tucked beneath their tops?
The questions keep on. Is The Hummingbirds interesting? Does it go anywhere? Yes to both. In this world, one “registers” to see a movie, hummingbirds are a menace, strippers attract violence (oh, wait, the same), a woman with five kids is nutty, and there’s a “front” to be feared. Everyone watches their words, and no one seems to trust anyone. Maybe “the spouse,” but that’s a bet you could lose. Make a wrong move, say the wrong things, and you could hear the tramp of boots in the hall.
All One, Two, and we might be sure of is that this part of life will end one day, and another suddenly take its place—probably without warning (“no time to say goodbye”) or giving us even one dream fulfilled. Where is the love? Where are the connections? Where is there a forest to walk in, and some peace to go with it? Good questions you ask, Number…what was it again?
WHEN: May 2, 2026
WHERE: Blackberry Theatre, 2528 Elm Street (upstairs @ Buried Dream), Dallas
WEB: info@blackberrytheatre.com
