Daughterhood

Summerhall (Roundabout), Edinburgh

We enjoyed last year’s Paines Plough/Theatr Clwyd collaboration, Island Town, so we’re keen to see what they have to offer us this time. Philip and I are from North Wales, and Theatr Clwyd featured heavily in both of our young lives. It feels good to have a slice of home right here with us in Edinburgh.

Charlotte O’Leary is back, this time playing Rachel, a Little-Miss-Sunshine younger sister with an exciting job in London. Her sister Pauline (Charlotte Bate), who’s nine years older, still lives at home, caring for their disabled father, growing steadily more miserable as life passes her by. Daughterhood is an examination of their relationship, of duty and fairness and doing the right thing.

It’s brutal: Pauline is stuck; she can’t find a way out. Someone has to look after Dad. Bate exudes despair, her face locked in a silent scream; it’s a stellar performance. Rachel cares too, but she’s busy lobbying parliament for access to better medication; she’s not there, clearing up the shit. When she does visit, Pauline’s resentment bubbles over, and they find themselves trapped in an endless argument, repeated ad nauseam each time they meet.

O’Leary portrays Rachel as sparky and likeable, her energy and sense of purpose a stark reminder to Pauline of what she could have had. The dynamic between the two is compelling; they’re on opposite sides but I’m rooting for both of them.

Toyin Omari-Kinch plays a range of supporting characters: Rachel’s colleague, her teenage bestie, a doctor, a professor – and their sick father. The first time he switches roles, I’m momentarily confused, but I soon work out what’s happening from the context – and he changes his accent and demeanour too. From thereon in, it’s always clear who he is, and he steps up to the challenge most impressively.

I like this play. Stef O’Driscoll’s direction means that the frequent flashbacks are well signalled, and we’re always sure of when and where we are. Despite the bleak subject matter, Charley Miles’ script is often laugh-out-loud funny, the humour helping us to engage with both women. I like the relentless repetitiveness of the sisters’ rows, entrenched as they are in the roles they’ve come to inhabit. And I like the fact that redemption, when it comes, is small and tentative.

A lovely piece of theatre in my favourite Fringe venue.

4.3 stars

Susan Singfield

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