I admit to having approached this production quite nervously, having taken such a dislike to the main character (Kristen or Kristin? โ your proofreader couldnโt decide) when I read the play some time ago, that I was prepared for an evening of suffering. The formidable contributions of Ginnie Orrey as Kristin, and Paul Gwinnett as Hugh, changed my view โ perhaps transformed is the better word, – so that I regretted it was the last night, as I would definitely have wanted a second viewing.
As a โstudentโ of the sixties myself, I recognised some of Kristinโs stances, stands, beliefs. Probably like many of the audience, I found myself recoiling from her blunt delivery of judgements, attitudes and beliefs, without any regard for the feelings of the recipients, particularly since they were all either actual or very close family. On first meeting of the sweetly naรฏve-sounding Trudi, she unbendingly dismisses all religion as an elaborate con designed to exploit stupid people. And, initially, Trudi lives up to the brief by uttering naรฏve phrases of capitulation. Erin Richardson caught the spirit of these exchanges so well, appearing, for now, as a cipher.
But Kristin has invited these guests, and I felt that Ginnie was half expecting some sparks to fly. Peter, her elder son, has disappointment and betrayal in every utterance, and before retiring to bed delivers a scathing attack on Kristin, – not for her tiresome campaigning against bankers, but because of her desertion and neglect of her two sons. Jason Harris plays both of them, – unbelievably distinct, so cleverly individual, each throwing light on the other.
Thatโs when I began to see what it meant to me. Apologia pro vita sua, by John Henry Newman, was certainly not an apology. Far more than that, it was an explanation. And for the audience, mostly pretty fed up with Kristinโs abandonment of her young children, (Interesting that she admired Claireโs portrayal of the mother in the Dollโs House, an exact parallel), the short, impassioned speech by lifelong friend Hugh, correcting Simon for having judged her so harshly, corrects the record. I would have liked a bit more detail about their now deceased father, who โtook the boys awayโ, from Kristin, other than the โemotionally stunted, mentally cruel, chauvinisticโ accusation she makes. Sounds a bit too โKristinโ to be wholly credible.
The real truth lies somewhere in-between. Laura Hedgecox, as Claire, gives a fiery parry to virtually every point in Kristinโs judgements from on high. As a soap-actor, she is ideal fodder for the eminent opinions of eminent artist/failed mother. She does it strongly and with great style. But the real pathos lies, for me, in the words of Simon. No fireworks, no rhetoric: just the power of frail repetition: โWe thought youโd come for usโ.. โThatโs what parents doโ. Itโs the quiet words which triumph, just as the insistent but quiet words of Trudi to Claire have such power. Itโs not about the noise you make, or the strength of your beliefs. Itโs about how prepared you are to listen, to consider, to change. The Sowei mask represents teacher, healer and judge, and Ginnie had us with many handkerchiefs out as she sobbed into it at the end.
Above all, the success of the evening was achieved by superb teamwork. Helen Reading and Peter Stockmanโs creative direction clearly paid off. The widely spaced set, characterised by evocative Tati posters and telling details, fulfilled every need spacially and artistically. I liked the faux beams on the ceiling, pictures reminded me of the wonderful and slightly turbulent times of CND and other campaigns so needed then and so embraced by Kristin. The dialogues of every character live with me now.
Reviewed by Philip Fryer