A funny, often-stirring account of motherhood and creativity Rating
Excellent
What lessons should we teach our children?
When I say we, I mean mothers. Because, as the opening scene of Jane Upton’s (the) Woman suggests, it’s mum who is often relied upon to deliver any formative, early-life wisdom. Wisdom, plus feeding and nappy changing; stroller-pushing and stay-at-home parenting; identity juggling and career segueing.
Playwright M (Lizzy Watts) is trying to balance childcare responsibilities with writing deadlines. This is made all the more challenging by her creative team, who aren’t interested in reading a script that explores how one might impact the other. “You’re a real talent, love – don’t waste it,” M’s agent (Jamie-Rose Monk) advises our new mother, suggesting it might be wise for M to hide the fact she has a baby altogether when it comes to expressing herself creatively. No use alienating certain audience members, after all.
It might all sound a bit heavy, but Upton’s script is laced with humour. Watts is a powerhouse performer, carrying M’s postpartum-induced emotion – love, rage and confusion – with a quiet but focused energy. Monk gives the evening’s standout performance, however, confidently multi-roling to give us M’s midwife, agent, friend and fellow mother, her portrayal of each never failing to convince.
Our protagonist is a harder pill to swallow. “I’m not the sort of woman who should be in a play,” M confesses. If we are defining the right “sort of woman” using the, quote-unquote, ‘traditional’ terms (ie, sparkly, saintly, with a dash of sex appeal), then M’s statement rings true. She is certainly no saint and it’s hard to properly sparkle while pushing a pram. She is not, in truth, a likeable character. She cheats on her husband with an ex-boyfriend, leaving her baby in the care of a complete stranger while she Does The Deed in the back of a parked van. She routinely indulges in sexual fantasies of the less cosy kind. She can be irresponsible, and pleasure seeking to a fault. With her behaviour erring toward the extreme, M is, at times, hard to relate to. But she is always authentic. Struggling to meet the expectations of every invested party – her baby, her husband, her friends, her colleagues, her ex-flame and, perhaps most crucially, her former, present and future selves – she spins and swerves her way through the fugg of early motherhood.
To be a woman, (the) Woman implies, is to be frequently dismissed in professional and personal circles. It is to be advised by doctors that if we feel sick, or our bodies ache, or we are really, bone-crushingly lonely, then knocking back a few paracetamol and listening to a mindfulness podcast should do the trick. It is to be told that our softening figures, uglier sexual desires and even the babies we have waiting at home should be kept under wraps. We must remain shiny and constant while keeping afloat numerous rafts, not all of them our own, in a whitewater surge. (the) Woman is a funny, often-stirring account of motherhood that pays its often-sidelined subject some overdue attention.
Written by Jane Upton
Directed by Angharad Jones
Lighting design by Lily Woodford
Sound design by Bella Kear
Video deisgn by Matt Powell
Design by Sara Perks
Dramaturg by Sarah Dickenson
Movement direction by Lucy Glassbrook
(the) Woman plays at Park Theatre until Saturday 25 October
