REVIEW: Mums

Mums, the debut production from Psychonaut Theatre, an experimental group of internationally diverse performers, is a deeply captivating exploration of what it means to lose, and what it means to gain. The play follows one family’s story; the disappearance of the younger brother and his return seven years later. The family’s dynamics and interactions are powerfully staged by the performers Juraj Benko, Lavina Grippa, Karola Kosecka, Eva Mateos Rodriguez and Arielle Zilkha. What does it mean when something so sacred as a family bond is severed? And what does it mean to those who attempt to repair it again? 

Throughout the play, a table stands in the centre of the stage, which at first all family members are gathered around, eating a meal of oranges, soup, and bread. Littered across the stage are pieces of orange peel which are added to by the performers at the end when they peel and eat their own oranges, tossing the skin to the ground. A symbolic return to the opening of the play, reminding us that this story has been told numerous times before and will likely be told again. At the heart of this performance is the younger brother, played by Juraj Benko, and at the heart of his character, is rage. Most of his lines are shouted out, slightly crazed, but are direct and intentional words centred on his feelings of neglect and the mistreatment by his family. We begin to build a picture as to why he might have left, and also why he could have decided to return. However, how his family reacts to his reappearance is where the intensity and energy of the play is held. We hear from each member, and each tell their own story, enriching further an image of family which is real and convincing, where love is present, but so is hate, rejection, regret, and grief. Especially effective is hearing from each member somewhat separately, a private exchange between us and them. This succeeds in establishing the important alienating distance between the family figures, and we come to understand how they operate together and where the younger brother might fit in all of this. The dialogue of this play is poetic, but strange, and is interjected at points with pieces of song, dance, and movement, making for a work which feels complete. These also play a role in creating the hazy dreamlike atmosphere which I feel characterises this piece of theatre. At one point, the whole family is dancing and singing together, the younger brother plays guitar while the others spin around and around, in different corners of the stage, creating a scene which is simultaneously surreal and familiar, pulling you into the depths of your own memories as well as theirs. 

Asking questions concerning loss and pain, Mums is a piece of theatre which is emotionally accessible and deeply relatable. By encouraging us to engage with the darkest, and brightest, parts of ourselves, Psychonaut Theatre has produced a work which is seriously thought-provoking.