Florian Zeller is a clever writer. Instinctively it appears, he has learned one of the peculiar strengths of the theatre; the relationship between spectator and actor, in tandem with one of the most precious of dramatic skills, how to manipulate the audience. We saw it in The Father and here in The Mother (the first of the duo) we have that rug-pulling ability that makes us question what we see and what the actors are seeing. The two plays offer two views on disintegrating reality as it falls away from the affected character to leave them stranded in their own head. In film the technique would come across as an error in editing and in a novel as dull repetition, but on the stage our interest is piqued as we try to make sense of things.
The differences in effect of the two shows are instructive. Where one is gut-wrenching the other is poignant. Both productions have central roles played with distinction. Gina McKee as the eponymous mother turns in a performance of exquisite detail as the drink and drug addled mother whose emotional needs are at odds with the autonomy of her offspring. Her Pinteresque repetitions contain a homeopathic waft of that writer’s menace, which without any signaled gear-change gives way to a damaged psyche teetering on the edge. It’s a class act. But whereas our sympathy for the dementia of the Father is of the, ‘that could be anyone, including me’, sort, we reserve some small part of our complete sympathy from someone who seems to be self-harming, albeit inadvertently.
The purported cause of the retreat from reality, the inability to come to terms with her son’s independence is merely sketched in. Consequently the exploration of the effect without detailed presentation of the cause leaves us slightly more distanced than in the Father where the effects of the exposed frayed edges of God’s handiwork potentially await any one of us.
Laurence Boswell, who directs this production, (also translated by Christopher Hampton as is The Father) keeps us guessing for as long as possible as to what is going on as he moves through the possibilities of marriage breakdown – possibly via an affair – to family breakdown and finally the revelation of mental breakdown. The shifts are subtle as are Colin Grenfell’s lighting changes in Mark Bailey’s installation-like white set and which seem to mirror Anne’s fluctuating mental states.
As a companion piece to The Father this production lives up to expectation with more great acting on show, but those who see The Mother first and go on to see Kenneth Cranham in the main house will be going in the right order. ★★★★☆ Graham Wyles 27/05/15.
Photo: Simon Annand
