Tag Archives: Liz White

“Dixon and Daughters” at the National Theatre

Theatre doesn’t get harder hitting than this. Director Róisín McBrinn and playwright Deborah Bruce have worked with the show’s co-producer Clean Break, a women’s theatre company that focuses on the criminal justice system. As a story of how that system impacts on traumatised lives, Dixon and Daughters is intense, provocative and powerful.

The insights gained from in-depth research have led to a script with unquestionable authenticity – which doesn’t make Dixon and Daughters easy to watch. No fewer than six women, five from the same family, show the complexity of abuse. What has happened to them isn’t easy to think about, let alone watch. Bruce charts how past events have shaped lives and endanger futures.

Exploring reactions to abuse proves profound. First, there is denial – we meet Mary, the mother of the family, on her return from prison, incarcerated for perverting the course of justice in a case against her husband. Bríd Brennan’s performance in the role is flawless, with plenty of twisted logic and perverse outrage convincingly depicted. When Mary confronts the truth, Brennan gives a raw performance that is painful to see.

Mary’s daughters Julie and Bernie (further excellent performances from Andrea Lowe and Liz White, respectively) share some of this wish for silence, but their trauma is clearer to see. Julie has become an alcoholic in another abusive relationship. Bernie focuses on her daughter Ella (Yazmin Kayani), who has her own story to tell about the pervasiveness of male power.

Posy-Sterling-and-behind-Bríd-Brennan-Liz-White-and-Andrea-Lowe-in-Dixon-and-Daughters-at-the-National-Theatre-credit-Helen-Murray
Posy Sterling with Bríd Brennan, Liz White and Andrea Lowe in the background

Ella is joined by a woman called Leigh, who Mary met in prison. This extremely damaged character is vividly portrayed by Posy Sterling – she is frightening and heart-rending. And (of course) Leigh is a victim of abuse herself. In this substitute daughter for Mary, Bruce balances frustration and compassion, which serves as an example of how complex the relationships in her play are.

“Make peace or make trouble”

Mary, Julie, and Bernie juggle with the decision to “make peace or make trouble”, with fear leading to damaging decisions. It’s easy to judge, but the drama gives us a chance to stop and question. It is Mary’s stepdaughter, Briana, who has proved the father’s nemesis – her actions led to the court case that imprisoned Mary. Briana’s self-care, mantras and all, make the character jar – at first. But with the aid of Alison Fitzjohn’s charismatic performance, she becomes an inspirational figure who helps herself and others.

There is a danger that each character in the play represents a response to issues, but this potential flaw is avoided through surprising humour and the strong performances. A motif of the house itself being a witness to events fails to convince or make the most of Kat Heath’s ambitious set – the idea feels tacked on. And it must be admitted that, dramatically, there are alarms but no surprises in Dixon and Daughters – the play is depressingly predictable. Nonetheless, by broadening her concern to misogyny Bruce highlights the systemic and cruel nature of male power with incredible authority.

Until 10 June 2023

www.nationaltheatre.org

Photos by Helen Murray

“Port” at the National Theatre

Following the success of their production of The Curious Incident (which transfers to the Apollo Theatre in March) it feels as if the National Theatre is rewarding writer Simon Stephens and director Marianne Elliott with a revival of the 1992 play, Port, which they first worked on in Manchester. Set in Stockport, where they both grew up, it’s a piece close to their hearts – indeed the whole play is sincere to a fault.

Fulfilling plenty of prejudices Londoners might have about the north, Port is a grim affair that traces the life of Racheal from 11 to 23. The poor girl’s trauma starts early when her mother abandons her. And things don’t get much better as she moves into dismal jobs and abusive relationships. Everyday Stockport is dysfunctional and depressing, its inhabitants desperate and cruel as they stumble through life.

You can see why the play has its advocates. Stephens’ expletive-filled language has its own kind of beauty – full of skilled observations and rich imagery. And he has written wonderful roles: from Rachael’s mum, who only appears in the first scene and is performed skilfully by Liz White, to the lead, played from child to woman by Kate O’Flynn in a remarkable performance that can’t be praised enough. But the play is so bleak that it becomes monochrome and, under Elliott’s static direction, monotonous.

Giving away whether or not Rachael sets sail for brighter shores would be to ruin what little tension Port has and unfortunately the ending feels tacked on and unconvincing. Sadly, despite the commitment of the cast, it is unlikely that Port will win many hearts.

Until 24 March 2013

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Kevin Cummings

Written 1 February 2013 for The London Magazine

“A Woman Killed With Kindness” at the National Theatre

Thomas Heywood’s 1603 domestic drama, A Woman Killed With Kindness, has a fair claim to still being relevant; family fortunes and adultery are great topics for drama. Nowadays, not many would contemplate the solutions for debt or infidelity Heywood’s characters come up with but Katie Mitchell’s bold production at the National Theatre makes it a fascinating night.

This is a story of the gentry; Heywood’s subjects hadn’t been seen on stage before, they are neither the great and the good nor the lowest in society. But confusingly, designers Lizzie Clachan and Vicki Mortimer present two well-off households next door to one another – giving the impression this is a troubled terrace, a kind of grand Coronation Street, when these are really two country estates.

The staging means that Mitchell can draw parallels between the women in the two stories; characters echo each other’s actions, creating an intense stereoscopic experience that is surreal and unnerving. It is continually arresting but never fully believable.

Mitchell moves the action to 1919. The stiff upper lips adopted by the nobility fit oddly with the passion so obvious in Heywood’s text. Homespun honesty is provided by an ensemble of solicitous servants (Gawn Grainger’s laconic Nicholas stands out) but their relationships are surely more feudal than the upstairs-downstairs setting suggests.

Heywood’s naturalism is acknowledged with lots of action off-stage, yet for all Mitchell’s previous ‘collaborative’ work with actors, the cast struggle against a touch of Grand Guignol. There are great performances from leading ladies Liz White and Sandy McDade, who use the extra time on stage created for them by the design well, but even they sometimes appear like puppets directed from above.

Mitchell is a director with such a strong vision she seems in competition with the author. And yet maybe that’s what the play needs: A Woman Killed With Kindness can be objectionable and Heywood’s morality perverse. It’s thrilling to hear the heroine grab the last line – it really seems to belong to her, although Heywood’s text has her husband say it. Mitchell’s version is more chilling and complex, and at times almost manages to convince.

Until 12 September 2011

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Stephen Cummiskey

Written 20 July 2011 for The London Magazine