At the Garden, ‘The Birds’ could use sharper claws

Let’s get this out the way right now: You’re not going to see any feathered flyers in “The Birds” onstage at the Garden Theatre in Winter Garden.

Here’s the thing, though: You don’t need to see the birds to be unnerved by them. Director Aradhana Tiwari’s perfectly creepy sound design of hooting, whistling, flapping, pecking and scratching, combined with discordant music, will do that just fine.

But you do need to feel as though the characters in this play are pushed to their limits and ready to do anything to survive. And for far too long, I didn’t feel that way — which effectively removed the interpersonal tension. And without that tension, “The Birds” fails to hook the audience — even though it has all the trappings in place to do so.

Playwright Conor McPherson was inspired by Daphne du Maurier’s short story about avian attacks, but kept the concept and little more.

In this version, three strangers are holed up in an abandoned home. A mysterious farmer from “across the lake” might be watching them. Alliances form and shift and crack. And jealousy and lust rear their too-human heads.

Mike Wood’s lighting is plenty eerie, and scenic designers Vandy Wood’s twostory house with its forbidding staircase and slatted blinds works perfectly. Franne Lee has fun with the costumes — an old wedding dress and a silk kimono appear for one drunken party.

The actors do right by their characters. Matthew Rush plays a young man with a murky past, quick to the bottle and quick to anger. Tara Anderson is the coolest of the trio; a middle-aged writer who worries about their home getting messy and what they’ll have for dinner. Sarah Lockard speaks in staccato, almost childlike, bursts as an unpredictable young woman who completes this unconventional triangle.

Yet the three get along too well for too long. I mean, it’s the end of the world out there; shouldn’t they be a little more unhinged? But if the goal was horror, “The Birds” doesn’t fly much higher than uncomfortable.