“Full of heart and defiant hopefulness”
CThe house lights dim in the theatre. The upbeat Madonna pop playlist fades out, to be replaced by… an operatic hymn?
‘Madonna on the Rocks’ packs a strong punch from the start- the audience meet mum Marie draped in deep blue robes, a twinkling crown casting heavenly light about her face, cradling a babe in arms. The babe in arms is actually just a towel, but thats beside the point. The imagery is a clear sign of what the rest of the show will be- a self-deprecating send up of expectations around motherhood, all shrouded in song and music. After staring down at us all beatifically from a podium, the beautiful image is interrupted by a call from the babysitter, bringing Marie crashing back down to earth.
Much of the action of the play takes place in a swimming pool, where Marie reveals her frustrations and anxieties about motherhood. All the other mums are talking about going back to work, but Marie is stuck. Her previous job was being a creative, which she repeatedly reassures herself and others, is a “real job”; but its implied that as the lower wage earner presumably in precarious freelance work, she should just pack that all in now. The baby is far more important than her own ambitions, after all.
But, after a little convincing, Marie sets out on a quest to write a show. She realises that she wants to write a ‘mum show’, and groans- mum shows are boring, she tells us. On a surface level, she doesn’t do much to dispel that myth. In itself, the plot is not that gripping; after all, we know that she does write the show eventually, so it doesn’t feel like much is at stake. However, inside the somewhat tedious recounting of her balancing act between childcare and creativity, there is a kernel of a far more interesting story about how motherhood changes how you feel about your own mother. The interactions between her and her mother are some of the strongest in the show, played with compassion and sensitivity.
Its a well trodden path in media at this point – can women really ‘have it all’? This is a refreshing new take on it, however; Hamilton deftly folds in intergenerational trauma and the argument that we all lose when women are forced to push aside their passions for caring responsibilities. At times it feels a little self-absorbed: there is the mention of the other mums all going back to work without much sympathy for those who, given the choice, would happily stay at home, but simply cannot afford to. The luxury of being able to sustain a new family on a single income isn’t really brought up or examined, and Marie’s problem largely seems to be an emotional rather than a practical one: a fear of letting her daughter down by not being there.
Peppered throughout the show are songs in a variety of styles. There are some real standouts: a song styled after ‘other woman’ ballads, but about the childminder; an epic rock song about repeating cycles of resentful parenting. While overall the composition is not particularly memorable, the soundtrack (written by Hamilton, Ben Osborn and Madeline Shann) serves to highlight the emotional complexity of the play, and are a great excuse to show off Hamilton’s natural performance skills. All in all, the show is a great conversation starter around the role of motherhood in the arts, full of heart and defiant hopefulness.