Writer: Jonathan Maitland
Director: Oliver Dawe
In 2006, broadcast journalist Jonathan Maitland’s memoir How to Survive Your Mother detailed a childhood in the shadow of a demanding, snobbish, potentially criminal mother. In the years since, Maitland has turned to playwriting, with works based on factual occurrences, starting with 2015’s Dead Sheep and up to last year’s The Interview, based on the Princess Diana/Martin Bashir Panorama interview.
Mainland’s new play, which adapts his autobiography for the stage, could have adopted a straightforward approach. There certainly seems to be enough material: Berouia Maitland, who went by Bru, ran a dodgy old people’s home where at least one resident changed their will to bequeath their life savings to her. Later, when running a hotel, she would let out her son’s room without telling him and, at one point, turned the hotel into a gay Mecca – or “Homolulu” – to annoy neighbours in the conservative Surrey town in which they lived. Bru would attempt to get the upper hand in any argument by claiming she had six months to live – a ruse that went on for many years – and would claim that a facelift was due to “cancer of the eyebrows”.
On its own, there is so much in Bru’s story that justifies her recreation as a theatrical monster, a true-life Cruella De Vil. And in that role, Emma Davies really excels. From feigning death in front of her son (seemingly so that she can get attention from the paramedics) to marrying the private investigator who helps her secure the divorce from her first husband, Bru doesn’t so much sail through life as stampede through it like a buffalo in leopard print.
In those moments, Maitland himself – played as an adult by Peter Clements and as a child by Howard Webb (in a role shared with Brodie Edwards) – cuts a passive figure, barely managing to get a word in edgeways with a mother who is always demanding the spotlight. Minor roles filled by Stephen Ventura, John Wark and Clements document some of the people impacted by Bru’s gung-ho, narcissistic approach to life. Wark’s role as Ivor, Jonathan’s father and Bru’s first husband, is intriguingly handled. Initially seen as another victim of someone who has stayed for too long in Bru’s orbit, a reunion with the adult Jonathan, from whom he had been estranged for decades, hints at the possibility that he may have been more involved in her criminal activities than might first have appeared.
But while Maitland’s investigation of his mother’s affairs may have been why he first started writing his memoir, its presence in the play is a subplot that tends to go nowhere. Far more intriguing is Maitland’s framing device, in which the playwright himself stars as Jonathan Maitland, a man who has written a play about his mother.
In these scenes, Davies switches from playing Maitland’s mother to portraying both his wife and his therapist – the latter of whom would, one suspects, relish unpacking that piece of multi-role casting. These scenes offer a wry commentary on the merits, or otherwise, of turning an autobiographical tale into a piece of theatre (“the Edinburgh Fringe disease,” as Maitland notes). But there is also a slightly leaden approach; Maitland, far from being a natural stage presence, also gives himself lines whose cadence lacks the spark he puts in the mouths of his other characters. Jokes put in to emphasise that he feels his story isn’t as traumatic as others are well-intentioned, but the references to sexual and other abuse as examples of more worthy traumas don’t land well enough for the humour to justify their inclusion.
But for the most part, the real Maitland sits at the side, allowing the story to shine. There are still rough edges here and there, but like Bru, the production ploughs through, demanding our attention. By the end, we feel we know exactly who Maitland’s mother was, what drove her and the impact she must have had on those around her. Whether we can understand her is a bigger question that will forever remain unanswered.
Continues until 24 November 2024
I have enjoyed other work by Maitland, but I found this play repellent. I had a very profound reaction to it, a sort of disgust that he would portray his own mother like this. If he wished to have his revenge of her, he has achieved that, but I truly found it disgusting. The people around me seemed to love it and roared their heads off at the jokes, and I can see that it has had good reviews. It is very rare for me to feel that I wished I had not seen something in the theatre, but I wished I had not seen this.