The Herman family’s evolving relationships are anchored by Sigrid Thornton’s powerful portrayal of matriarch Phyllis. Thornton is magnetic and has a presence that doesn't even need dialogue to make an impression. In a delicately constructed wordless montage of time passing, Lewis presents Phyllis alone in her home, where Thornton skilfully communicates the gradual softening of her character’s defences, from the way she carries herself, how she eats and drinks, and even how she observes her surroundings. Every one of her actions are charged with significance.
Yael Stone and Ash Flanders play Phyllis’ children, Martha and Carl. Ordinarily, it would be a stretch to accept actors in their 40s playing teenagers, but both Stone and Flanders bring a convincing, wide-eyed energy to their early scenes. They display their characters’ development with restrained voice, stance, and depth. The connection between Martha and Carl is heartfelt with an evident closeness and appreciation that underlines their relationship as it evolves.
Together with Thornton, the trio present a family that is authentic and familiar. Unfortunately, when the script leans into its bigger stirring reveals, it lands as more staged than organic. Martha’s account of a sexual assault on a school bus and the reveal of Carl’s sexuality don’t come across as natural or genuine, favouring theatrical delivery over rawness, and could do with tighter direction.
Christina Smith’s set is imaginative and flexible, making each of the Herman's homes distinct, despite reusing much of the same furniture. In the silent scene mentioned earlier, she re-purposes the space to reflect Phyllis’ isolation, showing her as swallowed by a cavernous, mostly vacant house, where the only noise that fills the walls now comes from the television or radio. Kelly Ryall’s sound design is masterful, but during this segment it is especially effective, infusing the quiet with feeling, giving us a deeper sense of who Phyllis is beneath her hardness.
A swift set change drops us into a gay nightclub, as described by Phyllis: "a place where mothers are murdered". It's not a full set change but Smith succeeds perfectly in briefly bringing in the outside world to us. Along with Niklas Pajanti's impactful lighting, and some funky beats and dance moves, it is a welcome break from the domestic setting. It’s a rare instance where Phyllis allows herself a measure of release, however limited, from the betrayal, resentment and loneliness she’s buried for years. Beyond this scene, Pajanti’s lighting design plays a key role to the domesticity being displayed, using shadow and darkness to subtly underscore the emotional tensions within the household.
Wigs and costumes also by Smith, are eye-catching visual centrepieces with all 14 of Thornton’s outfits custom-made, giving added attention to her character’s journey and the era’s changing style. Phyllis’ pink Chanel-style suit and denim jumpsuit are gorgeous highlights, while Carl’s hippie-era look provides the right dose of personality and humour.
Much like the cockroaches (all fake, don't worry) that appear in the Herman's homes, Mother Play is about endurance and survival at any cost. With its standout performances and clever design elements, it's a measured and thoughtful work that navigates one family's ability to persist through decades of silence, loss, and dysfunction.
SHOW DETAILS
Venue: Southbank Theatre, 140 Southbank Blvd, Southbank
Season: until 2 August | Mon - Tues 6:30pm, Wed - Sat 7:30pm
Duration:
110 minutes (no interval)
Tickets: $87 - $112
Bookings: Melbourne Theatre Company
Images credit: Brett Boardman
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