MOXIE’s mission statement is to “create more diverse and honest images of women+ for our culture using the intimate art of theater.” But when you’re on as solid a run as the theater has been of late, you can afford to be generous and put on a show like Birds of North America, one that puts a man at its center and then lets a woman — in this case, his adult daughter — go to work on him.

Not “go to work” in the sense of attacking or teaching or even consciously influencing —if anything, their conversations here —undertaken over the course of many autumns as Dadespies and catalogues the birds in his backyard —are marked by the man'sefforts to impress his carefully considered brand of liberal environmentalism upon his disappointing offspring. First, she’s content do copyediting for a conservative news outfit, happy to take their money whether or not she agrees with their product. Then she finds herself grieving for a miscarriage as if it were a baby and not merely a clump of cells, an admission that brings forth from the Old Man the horrified suspicion that she may be pro-life.

That’s Dad: sticking to his principles no matter the emotional cost to those around him —and ultimately, to himself. Eager to save the world, unsure how to preserve his family. Daughter “goes to work” simply by being a person, by being honest, and by being there.

The conversation ebbs and flows —now meandering, now rushing ahead, always helped along by the birds: something to notice during an awkward silence, something to distract from a heated moment, something to see together even as you’re being driven apart. Lisa Berger’s direction is elegant and unobtrusive, as it should be: this is an actor’s showcase, with Farah Dinga ably holding theirown against Mike Sears’ towering presence and performance.