Tag Archives: Finborough Theatre

Pennyroyal

★★★★

Finborough Theatre

Pennyroyal

Pennyroyal

Finborough Theatre

Reviewed – 14th July 2022

★★★★

 

“Roslyn has created a world where sadness and humour have a strong bond”

 

Despite serious safety concerns, the plant Pennyroyal has often been used as medicine. Most commonly for fatigue and the common cold but in extreme cases to end pregnancy. Despite the appeal of its lilac-mauve flowers and spearmint fragrance, it harbours secret ingredients that kick with a potentially fatal toxicity. Lucy Roslyn’s play, “Pennyroyal”, is beautifully structured in a similarly natural way. Her words, stylised and arranged to catch the ear, possess undoubtable healing powers whilst simultaneously betraying the veins of venom that lay close to the surface. It is these two fundamental characteristics that drive the protagonists of Roslyn’s sophisticated and acute drama of enduring love.

Inspired by Edith Wharton’s novella, ‘The Old Maid’, Roslyn introduces us to sisters Daphne and Christine, and immediately ploughs the ugly and the beautiful into the same bed. Daphne (Madison Clare) was diagnosed with ‘Premature Ovarian Insufficiency’ at nineteen. Before the diagnosis, she didn’t give a thought about her ‘expected’ roles as a woman or, later in life, a mother. But with the chance now taken away it preoccupies her, and she is haunted by the ghosts of unborn children. Older sister Christine, played by Roslyn, is on hand to give her support, as well as her eggs that she doesn’t need for herself. Of course, it doesn’t go to plan. But the failed dreams and expectations of both women knot them together in an ever-tightening embrace that is suffocating as well as life-enhancing.

Josh Roche’s styled staging sharpens the dialogue and is complemented by Roslyn’s and Clare’s fine, natural performances. They pay little heed to the fourth wall but the switch from action to interaction is seamless. Similarly, the shifts in tone encapsulate the full and complicated spectrum of sisterhood emotions. They can never quite escape the shadow of the absent, unseen mother; sometimes just wandering about in the garden, sometimes six feet under it, depending on the shifts in time that either follow or lead the flow of the narrative.

Roslyn has created a world where sadness and humour have a strong bond. The tragedy of the ‘horrible coffee’ in the hospital waiting room threatens to upstage the fact that the mother is dying in the next room. Eggs, not yet embryos, are given names, and consequently adopt endearing personalities that never see the light of day. You could cry. You should cry. Yet you laugh instead. The intent behind the acting is faultless. The execution of these moments by Roslyn and Clare is quite extraordinary.

Edith Wharton planted the seed of this drama a century ago, but Roslyn has nurtured it and created a heart-warming and sometimes heart-breaking tale for today. One that resonates much more than the original. The focus may be on the things expected of women and what happens when they don’t go to plan (or rather the plan that society dictates), but it encompasses humanity as a whole and triggers wider reactions. By the same token, the intimacy of the Finborough’s stage is an apt setting for this play, but the story is in no way confined there. It follows you home, and brings a smile, and a tear, long after you’ve left the theatre.

 

Reviewed by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Helen Murray

 


Pennyroyal

Finborough Theatre until 6th August

 

Recently reviewed at this venue:
The Sugar House | ★★★★ | November 2021
The Straw Chair | ★★★ | April 2022

 

Click here to see our most recent reviews

 

The Straw Chair

The Straw Chair

★★★

Finborough Theatre

The Straw Chair

The Straw Chair

Finborough Theatre

Reviewed – 21st April 2022

★★★

 

“There is humanity and tragedy in the piece, but despite the magnificent performances, the emotional punch is too tender”

 

It is 1735, and life on St Kilda – in the far reaches of the Outer Hebrides – is pretty stark. And everything smells and tastes of fish. It is an abandoned isle, populated by abandoned people. A place where the crashing waves erode the shoreline and, if you let it, the spirit. But not so Lady Grange, the central figure of Sue Glover’s play based on the real-life wife of the eighteenth-century Lord Grange. A Shakespearean mix of King Lear and Miranda, she whips up her own storm that threatens to silence the unrelenting winds that sweep in from all sides of the island.

Lady Grange was exiled by her estranged husband to the Outer Hebrides, on the basis that she was hysterical, drunk, disorderly and uncivilised. In truth she knew too much about her husband; his Jacobite sympathies shrouded by hypocrisy and political pragmatism. Better she go and rage against the storm in isolation, rather than upset his veneered city life.

The turmoil is all internal and the interest promised by the historical facts doesn’t translate entirely successfully here. Anna Short’s sound design evokes the peace of the farmyard rather than the ravaged sentiments of the central character. The first act serves mainly to set the scene, into which Aneas, a bible-clutching minister and his new wife, Isabel come on a mission. Isabel, all innocence and compliance, is initially the antithesis of Lady Grange. What Glover’s writing cleverly reveals, however, is how the two women have more in common than we originally think. Along with Oona, Grange’s maid, the three women are all trapped in their own gender-defying roles of the time.

Siobhan Redmond is a force as the unhinged Grange – sexual and dangerous; one minute syrup and flirtation, the next acid and acrimony. Redmond portrays a Hamlet-like figure: mad at the world rather than mad within one’s head. Rori Hawthorn is equably believable as Isabel; an ember in the shadow of Finlay Bain’s surreptitiously domineering Aneas, yet Hawthorn reveals the flickers of a burning injustice. The flames fanned by Redmond’s powerful performance.

But it takes until the second act for the momentum to really take hold. Jenny Lee, wonderful as the no-nonsense Oona, is drawn into the fold and the play now belongs to the women. Polly Creed’s direction is finally allowed to flourish, particularly as the trio bond over shared whisky and dissatisfaction. Glover’s underlying comments on gender and power are unleashed as the tongues are loosened, while Bain takes a generous back step, yet without relinquishing his masterful portrayal of the steadfast missionary.

“The Straw Chair” is a play that demands attention, although it does take a while to grab it. Its hold on us is tenuous, but if it lapses, we are soon lured back in, with the added help of some plaintive music. As well as commanding the stage, Hawthorn (with co-violinist, Elisabeth Flett) provides a lyrical, pre-recorded underscore. There is humanity and tragedy in the piece, but despite the magnificent performances, the emotional punch is too tender. We want to hear the waves crash, rather than lap, on the rocky Hebridean shoreline.

 

Reviewed by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Carla Joy Evans

 


The Straw Chair

Finborough Theatre until 14th May

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:
The Sugar House | ★★★★ | November 2021

 

Click here to see our most recent reviews