'Some Woman' review — Anne-Marie Duff is deeply sincere in this unsettling play

Read our review of Helen Edmundson's Some Woman, now in performances at the National Theatre to 21 November.

Summary

• Helen Edmundson's play Some Woman premieres at the National Theatre
• It sees Julie's life implode when she complains about a rude 10-year-old boy
• Anne-Marie Duff handles the central role with dexterity
• The play tackles social issues like the demands of motherhood

A woman is on her way home from work when a 10-year-old boy she’s never met approaches her in a train station, asks her the time, and calls her ‘a fucking bitch’. It’s the catalyst for Julie Robson’s unravelling. One seemingly innocuous step – calling the boy’s school to ask to speak to the headmaster – leads to police questioning, the boy’s parents pressing charges for battery, and eventually further threats to kill. Played by a frantic Anne-Marie Duff, Robson is pushed into a corner. Despite her unwavering belief that she’s done nothing wrong, her lawyers, children and ex-husband all advise her to plead guilty to the initial charges. Despite being a play that puts forward a tick-box collection of social issues, Duff is remarkably sincere, becoming progressively more shattered as Julie’s options close in around her.

She looks constantly on the verge of releasing a scream, physically trembling in moments of distress. Her whole demeanour asks: how the hell did I get here? And as the play moves into its later scenes, it’s a question she verbalises, too. Julie is in the middle of selling the family home where her two adult children grew up and where her ex-husband, Richard, left them when he walked out on the family 11 years ago. The trauma of police questioning leads Julie to look back on her life through fresh eyes. Has she always tried to shrink herself to make life better for others? And what has she given up to play the role of a good mother, only for those sacrifices to go unappreciated?

At its strongest, Helen Edmundson’s script is deeply unsettling, reminding us how little it can take for an ordinary life to be thrown into turmoil. It is also adept at joining the dots between our past choices, our backgrounds and the people we become. But while its concerns – from the criminal justice system to the demands of motherhood and the fallout of family breakdown – are important, together they feel well-worn. Julie’s journey to her final plea is one we see coming from a mile off.

Directed by Blanche McIntyre, the production has the feel of a BBC crime drama on heat. A sunny family home, complete with children’s drawings pinned to the fridge with magnets, gives way to a darker, starker landscape. Here, Julie comes face to face with the police and even contemplates jumping in front of a passing train. Robert Jones’s design feels suitably clinical.

The main issue, though, are the characters around Julie. We hear only snippets about her youngest child Ginny’s eating disorder and depression (a strong performance from Grace Doherty), while her oldest daughter, Kate (a snide Hannah Onslow), seems to detest her mother for reasons the script never fully explores. Of course, the fallout from the divorce must have played a part in shaping the family dynamics we see today, but such sustained hostility feels unearned without a clearer sense of where it comes from.

Duff does her very best with the contrived material. In a final confrontation scene, her fear sends tears streaming down her cheeks and she plays her role with dexterity. Still, it is not enough to find a real sense of reasoning through this work.

Some Woman is at the National Theatre to 21 November. Book Some Woman tickets on LondonTheatre.co.uk

Photo credit: Some Woman (Photos by Ellie Kurttz)