“Ya wanna look out there, folk lappin’
about in the pool, holdin’ hands, not a care in this world, just row upon row
of chalet lines, little boxes full up with little lives, little bits of love”
With Josie Rourke decamping to the Donmar Warehouse, the
role of Artistic Director at the powerhouse of new writing that is the Bush
Theatre went to Madani Younis, whose first season there has just started with
this production of Lee Mattinson’s bleakly funny Chalet Lines which he also
directs. Set over a 50 year period in Chalet Number 12 at Butlins Skegness, we
trace the family history of four generations of the Walker women as the
troubled relationship between mother and daughter seems doomed to repeat itself
time and time again.
We start in the modern day with an abortive attempt at celebrating
Nana Barbara’s 70th birthday. Oldest daughter Loretta has brought
along her two girls, Abigail and Jolene, to the cabin where they’ve always
holidayed but things aren’t really going to plan for anyone. Relationships are horribly
strained across the board and made worse by the absence of someone important
and Mattinson takes us back in time to 1996 and then again to 1961 to explore
the reasons for this and the deep-seated behaviour that has caused so much
rancour. FYI, this was a preview.
In its depiction of destructive patterns that are nigh-on
impossible to shake off, family ties that bind so tight that they hurt and the
depressing societal pressures on women to submit to marriage no matter what,
Mattinson’s play is frequently brutal and crushingly so, with callous insults
being flung around and ferocious interactions taking the breath away. But he
leavens this with a vein of scabrous Northern humour which, whilst it may not
be to everyone’s taste, I found to be hilarious. From the killer opening line
to the deconstruction of the Macarena, there’s sharp humour aplenty here but it’s
an ever so thin line as the jabs become increasingly vicious as more and more
cava and pomagne is sunk leaving a bitter and bitterer taste.
As Loretta, the main maelstrom of motherly monstrosity, Monica
Dolan is fierce beyond belief. Uncompromisingly determined that it is her way
or the highway, she strides forth with a gritty determination that takes no
prisoners but which equally leaves her bereft as uncomfortable truths about the
choices that she has made come to light – her tortured desperation to please
Gillian Hanna’s dour Barbara feels painfully authentic. And there’s a neat
piece of doubling as we move back to 1961 and Dolan takes on the part of Edith,
Barbara’s controlling mother and we see the roles entirely reversed, and thus how
the tragedy of the situation Barbara found herself in then has fed into this
cycle of misery.
Laura Elphinstone as the bookish but impassioned Abigail
and Robyn Addison’s tart-with-a-Spice-Girls-singing-heart offer contrasting but
convincing modern-day responses to the pressures exerted within the family. And
as the one that got away, Sian Breckin’s Paula is a brief glimmer of hope,
reflected in the utterly gorgeous funfair-inspired lighting design from Tim
Mascall that intermittently illuminates Leslie Traver’s vertiginously exploded
chalet walls. There are no half-measures here, Chalet Lines is funny and bleak
and painful and real, and makes a bold and provocative opening salvo from
Younis. The only real criticism I have is of the Bush Theatre putting up their ticket prices which might well work against people taking a risk on new writing, even at somewhere as reputable as here.
Running time: 2 hours 25 minutes (with
interval)
Playtext cost: £3.50 (or £4 for one signed by the cast)
Booking until 5th May
Labels: Gillian Hanna, Laura Elphinstone, Lee Mattinson, Monica Dolan, Robyn Addison, Sian Breckin