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The Daughter-in-Law, Young Vic, London<br></br>Damsels in Distress, Duchess, London<br></br>Stitching, Bush, London<br></br> Closing Time, NT Loft, London

Love, honour and obey? I don't think so

Kate Bassett
Sunday 15 September 2002 00:00 BST
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'Marriage is like a mousetrap," according to Mrs Gascoyne. "You've soon come to th' end o' th' cheese," she remarks as she spoon-feeds supper to her injured youngest son, Joe, in The Daughter-in-Law. Since she's a fearsomely possessive matriarch, you may want to take her pessimism with a pinch of salt in D H Lawrence's strongly wrought colliery drama of 1912 which not only depicts striking miners and marital strife but also, startlingly, contains many of the seeds of Britain's more famous wave of Northern working-class dramas (hailed as groundbreaking over four decades later).

Lawrence stops just short of a tragic ending for Joe's brother, Luther, and his young wife Minnie. Yet, this couple go through an extremely rocky, emotionally rough patch when Luther learns he's fathered an illegitimate child, £40 is demanded, and old Mrs G meanly insists Minnie should pay for adopting snooty airs towards her lad. DHL also does for Nottinghamshire what JM Synge did for the west coast of Ireland, his characters speaking in a vibrant, subtly lyrical dialect. And he interlocks a family romance with larger political struggles – involving class, sex and economics.

David Lan's production gets the Young Vic's new season off to an impressive start, though it has a few flaws. Francis O'Connor's set is a bit rough and lumberingly symbolic around the edges, with the Gascoynes apparently living inside a colossal lump of coal. Nevertheless, within that, the detailing is often exquisite, from the kitchen's dour iron stove, terracotta tiles and candlelight to the female characters' unconscious jockeying over domestic chores. At this early stage in the run, Paul Hilton's Luther and Matthew Dunster's Joe are missing some psychological nuances, but everyone carefully brings out their characters' warmth and humour, counterbalancing bitterness.

Marjorie Yates's riveting Mrs Gascoyne is fondly teasing and ultimately vulnerable in spite of her tough-as-nails exterior, and Anne-Marie Duff plays Minnie with a sad and sweet mix of neurotic viciousness, sporadically relaxed giggles and ever-rekindling ardour.

Early morning tensions between a frazzled, modern-day mum and her teenage daughter get Damsels in Distress rolling. In Alan Ayckbourn's new lightweight West End trilogy, Lynette (Jacqueline King) is an ex-dotcom millionaire, whom we find chain-smoking at 6am as she girds herself for work as a lowly office cleaner. Her pouty 16-year-old, Sorrel, having already lost her gallivanting dad, is dreading the possibility that they'll be forced to relinquish their Docklands apartment, too.

What Lynette doesn't know is Sorrel (Saskia Butler) has inherited her entrepreneurialism and developed her own naive plan to get rich quick by going on the game – hence this play's title, GamePlan. Farcical scenes ensue with Sorrel's super-frumpy friend, Kelly (Alison Pargeter), being forced to act as the "maid", lurching around like a headless chicken in stilettos.

Meanwhile, Sorrel struggles to pose lewdly in crippling PVC hot pants (a cheap gag) as their first client, perversely, seems more interested in banging on about his dry-cleaning business than in hanky-panky. This being Ayckbourn, the comedy takes some serious turns. Sorrel almost ends up badly damaged and, in a nasty case of confused identities, sinister coppers arrive and insinuate that mummy is a murderous whore.

The final two parts of the trilogy aren't strictly related but unfold in the same blandly comfortable apartment (or maybe adjacent ones), with Ayckbourn's cast playing new sets of characters. In FlatSpin, a temporary caretaker (Pargeter) pretends she's a swanky resident only to be deceived by a seductive secret agent (Bill Champion). And in RolePlay – the best of the bunch – Pargeter reappears as a gangster's moll who ruffles feathers as she gatecrashes a "meet the parents" dinner party where Justin (Champion in shyer mode) is meant to be announcing his engagement to ultra-dull Julie-Ann (Butler).

Comic highlights include Jacqueline King as Justin's posh and permanently rat-arsed mother – impeccably elegant and fantastically insulting – and Beth Tuckey as a hatchet-faced, hell-fire preaching bobby called Grace. There are also a few chilling, and richly ambiguous moments – with especially subtle performances from Champion. Ayckbourn keeps a few big themes running throughout: materialism vs morals, resilience and loyalty, the pros and cons of alternative identities, and dangerous elements surfacing in cosy middle-class worlds. Fundamentally though, this "epic" event is little more than easy viewing, ploddingly crafted with no ingenious grand design and some frankly unbelievable plot twists. You may even feel compelled during the lunch and supper breaks to do something more mentally taxing – ooh, say, a bit of window shopping.

Moving on from the eminently missable to a must-see, Stitching makes GamePlan look pitifully shallow. This searing new play – written and directed by Anthony Neilson – focuses on a young prostitute and a bloke who picks her up. Or rather, we start with Abby (Selina Boyack) and Stu (Phil McKee) as a long-established couple going round in small quarrelsome circles, trying to sort out what they want long-term because Abby is pregnant. Then suddenly – in flashback? – she's a stony-faced student determined to sell her body with none of the strings attached that he seems to have in mind. Near the end you glimpse them dancing tenderly. But somewhere in between they've slipped into a frightening sado-masochistic relationship (that's not for faint-hearted punters).

What's extraordinary is the psychological complexity and artistic control Neilson brings to bear on this bleak subject matter. With faint echoes of Pinter's The Lover, Stitching blurs present and past, reality and fantasy very unsettlingly. The raw physicality is, at the same time, tightly contained within subdued, sharply honed conversations that are – against the odds – also terribly funny. Beautifully acted and staged in a ghostly, grungy flat – with walls of wire mesh and a heart scrawled on the floor in chalk – this will haunt you for ages. Definitely on my shortlist for the best of 2002.

We must see more of the fortysomething Irish playwright Owen McCafferty as well. In the meantime, we can toast the National's Transformation season for ending on a high with McCafferty's aptly named Closing Time. That's not to say this bar-room drama is one big party. It's more Belfast's answer to The Iceman Cometh – with some echoes of The Weir – as we fester away with a bunch of alcoholics in a scuzzy, drab brown pub (designed by Rae Smith).

Patrick O'Kane plays a desperate scrounger who's messing with the seedy, unhappy landlady (Pam Ferris), under the nose of her skint, soused husband (Jim Norton). This is a bleak portrait of washed-up, paralysed lives but it's also shot through with humour, generosity and hope. Cafferty has a great ear for chat and young director James Kerr takes his time with great assurance, letting desultory silences seep in and nurturing terrific naturalistic performances.

k.bassett@independent.co.uk

'The Daughter-in-Law': Young Vic, London SE1 (020 7928 6363), to 12 Oct; 'Damsels in Distress': Duchess, London WC2 (0870 890 1103), to 30 Nov; 'Stitching': Bush, London W12 (020 7610 4224), to 10 Oct; 'Closing Time': NT Loft, London SE1 (020 7452 3000), to Sat, then touring

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