The playbill gives the period as 2006, but in Herman and Ingrid's cozy countryside living room, it might as well still be 1962. This is because the sweethearts who met while serving in the Korean War vowed that their marriage, like the house Herman built them with his own hands, would be a "bunker" against disturbing events in an uncertain world. The birth of a child afflicted with a crippling disease intensified their insularity. What happens, though, when people sworn to shelter one another find themselves no longer capable of doing so?
Todd Bauer's The Bird Feeder Doesn’t Know evidences signs of being based in his own experiences, but even viewed as pure fiction, audience members with firsthand memories of the time frame shaping the personalities of his elderly antagonists (like myself) may find themselves wondering how Herman and Ingrid's peers in the community tolerate the couple's uncontentious, but nevertheless nowadays-unacceptable, prejudices. Also left unanswered is the question of whether Ingrid's insecurity is rooted in her troubled childhood, or in her military service. More significant, is she as reliant on her menfolk as she professes, or is her emotional dependency a manipulative tactic to ensure her protectors' compliance?
The place of this crotchety couple in the universe existing beyond the view from their own picture window is less important, however, than the crisis arising as a result of Herman's physical deterioration and Ingrid's subsequent conscription of their son to shoulder responsibilities they now find too cumbersome. Middle-aged Everett, who fled his stifling parents to make a life for himself despite his disabilities, is reluctant to assume the role imposed upon him, but Ingrid refuses to consider home-care assistance or relocation to a convalescent facility.
This dilemma is prevalent in our society today, but instead of exploring solutions, Bauer heaps obstruction upon obstruction until his jeremiad concludes with an ambiguous occurrence suggesting resolution attributable only to the expertise of Chuck Spencer, who plays Herman, at foreshadowing old men careening toward self-destruction (having previously delivered laudable performances in Death of a Salesman and All My Sons).
Contrasting with the sketchiness of Bauer's script is Timothy Mann and Mary O'Dowd's richly detailed museum-accurate stage decor (including the oh-so-symbolic broken clock). Christopher Kriz' sound design likewise provides chronological orientation during the occasional flashbacks. Under Jonathan Wilson's deft direction, the actors almost succeed in connecting the dots scattered over a text offering plenty of opportunity for post-show discussion, but no coherent story to anchor it.
