Jo Downing, Madeleine Jones and Michala Banas as the siblings. Photo: Prudence Upton
There’s nothing like the loss of a parent to bring a family together – or drive it further apart. Add a large dose of sibling rivalry to already heightened emotions and who knows what might happen? In English playwright Shelagh Stephenson’s The Memory of Water, sparks are soon flying between three sisters –Teresa (Jo Downing), Mary (Michala Banas) and Catherine (Madeleine Jones) – all of whom have very different memories of their upbringing and their very recently deceased mother Vi (Nicole Da Silva). Despite the theme, Stephenson’s play is a comedy, almost farcical in a couple of scenes, but it also manages to bring out the deeper feelings and reflections on life that inevitably follow when a parent, particularly the only nurturing parent (which is the case here) dies. It was first staged in London in 1996, and won an Olivier Award for Best Comedy in 2000, and its themes easily withstand the test of time.
The action takes place in the late Vi’s bedroom, a confection of pink satin bedspreads and chintz fussiness (all credit here to designer Veronique Bennett), which gives us an immediate feel of time and character. We are in Yorkshire, somewhere near the coast. Mary, who is sleeping in her mother’s bed ahead of the funeral that is to take place the next day, is haunted by Vi’s ghost. She appears before her, seated at her dressing table, perfectly dressed and coifed a la the 1960s, Vi’s heyday. Mary, a doctor and the most successful of the siblings, is concerned with finding ‘the tin with the chrysanthemums on it’; her mother is not inclined to help. We know this tin will prove important.
In short order we meet elder sister Teresa, who has borne the brunt of caring for Vi as she was lost to Alzheimer’s, and who is resentful of her sisters’ apparent easier lifestyles. Catherine, the youngest, arrives – having drowned her sorrows via retail therapy – and the bickering commences. Anyone who has siblings will recognise the sort of arguments – who did what to whom; what was and wasn’t fair; who is and isn’t loved?
Mary’s married lover Mik (Johnny Nasser) makes a spectacular entrance, which only exacerbates Teresa’s annoyance. Her own husband Frank (Thomas Campbell) – and partner in their health supplement company – is stoically silent for much of the time. It’s no plot spoiler to say that these four people are not completely happy with their lots. Nor is Catherine, the only sibling with no real partner, and who feels constantly left out and alone. With some reason, as we find out.
As we discover more about the sisters – aided by interactions between Mary and Vi – the more conflicted memories surface. Stephenson has given her characters some very funny lines, laugh-out-loud lines, and some extremely comic scenes – my favourite is when Mary decides they must dispose of Vi’s extensive wardrobe, which soon results in each of the sisters dressing up in their mother’s clothes (costume credits also belong to Bennett). But this play is much more than a comedy. It is an examination of memory, but also – and crucially – what it means to be a mother. Vi was far from perfect, but who is? She did her best in difficult circumstances. And times change. Mores are different. Who are her daughters to judge her for what they perceive as her shortcomings? What about their own choices? When Vi says, without apparent rancour, ‘I’m proud of you and you’re ashamed of me’, it’s a telling and sad moment.
Stephenson’s characters are well drawn, and the performances here are excellent. Standouts are Banas and Da Silva, but each actor deserves credit. At 2½ hours (with interval), The Memory of Water is perhaps a little longer than it needs to be, but the performance never flags. It is billed as ‘painfully funny’ and it is.
Until 25 November
Tickets:$38-80, plus booking fee
More: https://www.ensemble.com.au/shows/the-memory-of-water
Jo Downing, Michala Banas and Madeleine-Jones as Teresa, Mary and Catherine. Photo: PrudenceUpton
