‘Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it’ These words from Helen Keller are quoted in the programme of ‘Dixon and Daughters’, which just opened at the National Theatre. There is inevitably a lot of suffering in a story involving women in prison but what of the overcoming? writes Katie Kelly.
The play opens with the homecoming of the extremely unmotherly matriarch, Mary, from a spell in prison. Her return is greeted by anxious caring by one daughter and deep ambivalence by the other. As resettlement from prison goes, this is pretty civilised. No hostel and £50 for Mary. Instead, her comfortable home has been kept ready and there is salmon with watercress sauce in the fridge ‘You Like a bit of salmon, don’t you?’ chirps daughter Bernie.
But all is not well and over the next tense hour and a half, everything unravels as the house gives up its secrets. Mary moves from comically cranky to vicious and descends as far as to be almost monstrous before perhaps beginning to crawl towards redemption, liberated by the person she has most harmed.
The play depends on a gradual revelation of secrets for its tension so it is important to avoid plot spoilers, but typically of Clean Break theatre company, it explores the issues that lead to the incarceration of women such as cycles of abuse, intergenerational trauma and destructive coping mechanisms.
The initial tableau of Mary, daughters and granddaughter is soon interrupted by two fabulously disruptive guests, Briana, once Tina, is on a truth-seeking mission entirely unwanted by her host. Played magnificently by Alison Fitzjohn, she is a ball of energy. All power dressing and self-help mantras, she has risen, phoenix-like, from the ashes of a destructive childhood. Though hilarious, she is never a figure of fun, she is too powerful and wounded for that. The very definition of a survivor, she is victorious and glorious even in her pain.
Leigh arrives fresh from the street having reconnected with Mary; who she befriended in prison. Mary displays towards Leigh a maternal capacity entirely absent from her dealings with her own daughters. An example of the power of bonds made to survive the trauma of imprisonment. Knickerless and wired, initially filthy from the street, Leigh is in turns witty, courageous, unpredictable chaotic and kind,. She feels like the last thing this family needs but becomes a truth-teller and even peacemaker.
No easy answers emerge but in the recovery of truth, and the shared strength of women, although suffering is by no means overcome, it is at least spoken, shared and lightened.
Dorfman Theatre, National Theatre, South Bank, London SE1 9PX until 10th June. Times: Mon-Sat 7.30pm; Wed & Sat matinees 2.30pm. Admission: £20 – £60.
Booking: www.nationaltheatre.org
