“An unflinching depiction of the seemingly impossible expectations of womanhood, (the) Woman exceeds anticipation in the very best way“
M is many things. A writer, a mother, a woman. She’s tired and angry and uncertain. In a world that tells women that they can do anything, that they can well and truly ‘have it all,’ M is bursting with an overwhelming question: HOW?
We follow M as she progresses through two means of creation; her children and her writing. M is birthing a play while also birthing children and is compounded by the impossible expectations of balancing both lives simultaneously. Society tells her that she can do both, that women are no longer sequestered to the home with no means of upward mobility. What society doesn’t explain is how the hell that is meant to work?
Upton’s exacting writing serves as a response to the commonplace and derivative one-woman show that fits femininity into the framework of a man’s breadth of understanding, a position in which women are only allowed to be strong and independent with no room for messiness and the inherent complications of being a literal human being. (the) Woman is honest, sometimes brutally so, expertly bringing to life the complex impossibility of living up to the expectations mothers are embroiled in.
We follow M as she tries to write her newest play. It’s a big move in her career, and while her domestic responsibilities don’t seem to be getting any lighter, neither do the requests of her career. She’s pushed to write a play that doesn’t fit, and as we see her struggle against the expectations of her producers, so we see her pushing to write the play she wants to write. Slowly we recognize that the play we are watching is, in fact, the play M is writing. The curvature of M’s creative zeal undulates, posited in snappy scenes that cut to the core of M’s personal experience.
The piercing writing Upton offers is elevated by the incredible performances by the cast. Lizzy Watts creates an electric M who embodies rage and discomfort with spectacular fire. She carries the play with a keen ability to lay everything out on the table, drawing the audience into a position in which we somehow can accept the many things that are messy about M while still rooting for her all the way through, teaching us to perhaps practice this degree of empathy to the mothers within our own lives. Jamie Rose Monk, André Squire, and Josh Goulding take on a large variety of other characters within the piece, creating a colourful universe of people within this production. Special mention is owed to Monk, who catches many laughs and certainly brought many (me) to tears.
(the) Woman is an exquisite, sharp and holistic look at how enraging being a woman can be. While we might be miles ahead of where we used to be, (the) Woman reminds us that we have much unlearning still to do. This piece will leave you spilling over with the joy and angst of womanhood. You might want to give your mom a hug afterwards.
