Shirley Valentine doesn’t need a supporting cast in this gripping rendition of a classic.
Reviving her role in this one woman play, Sally Reid brings to life all the existentialism, dreams and fears of Shirley Valentine as she reminisces over her past, present and the choices that lie in front of her.
The play follows Shirley musing about her life from childhood to her once happy but now stale and purposeless marriage. She has seemingly achieved the middle England dream but not without it leaving a bitter taste in her mouth as she assumes her role.
The writing holds well, 35 years from its original performance, as a gripping window into the state of mind of women made subject to a sexist society’s demands. As much as we have – or like to think we have – progressed as a society, the anxieties about love, family and identity still ring truer than we like to admit. The play reminds us to think about how this still present system reproduces many of Shirley’s contradictions today.
When the lights turn on we are greeted by Shirley’s place in the home: cooking dinner in her small kitchen for her husband. The set is a well crafted kitchen reminiscent of a modest but cared for 1960s make.
This set starts to resemble a prison, with the window above the sink acting as a frame to encapsulate her dreams of the woman she could be.
The scene changes in the second half as she starts to challenge these notions both imposed by others and by herself. The set instead becomes far more open and relaxing, showing a table and chairs set on the edge of the sea, acting as an apt metaphor for the journey of self liberation the play follows. The set design overall is superb and performs as all good sets should – as characters in their own right.
Sally Reid received a standing ovation at the curtain call to absolutely no one’s surprise. Throughout the entire play she masterfully commands the dialogue delivering each joyful anecdote and regretful admission with charisma but mostly ensuring we hear the leash holding her back from being completely honest with herself and what she wants to say. The dialogue is so well crafted, weaving an often chaotic tapestry of thoughts together into a perfectly formed puzzle, but it’s often what’s not said that tells you the most. Sally Reid leaves those pauses, those strained words and tones that inject the already rich dialogue with darker, rawer subtext that Shirley is often hesitant to let herself say. Just the delivery of a story about the dinner schedule for her husband tells you so much about how Shirley feels about the marriage, the domestic servitude within and her fears that hold her back.
The plot, set and the concept is minimal but this simplicity is delivered in great fashion to tell a gripping, heartfelt, earnest and liberating story about how we are trapped by so much of what is expected of us; we often forget to live and not merely be imposed upon. We all are a bit of Shirley Valentine, and can all learn a bit about how to live from her, and not merely be restricted to play the parts imposed upon us.