Sophie Bentinck begins by telling us that when her grandmother was five months pregnant with her mother, she was already there as an egg, folded within both their bodies.
It is a lovely, poetic beginning to a sweet and tender solo show about three generations of women in her family. Written and performed by Bentinck, it comprises recorded conversations with her mother, Anna, alongside narrated entries from the diary of her grandmother, Pauline, and some of her own teenage journals.
Pauline is an effervescent presence at the start – an exuberant and eccentric champagne lover. But Bentinck’s narration draws the downward trajectory of her life as her unfaithful husband, Henry, first acquires a mistress and then brings her into Pauline’s life. The diaries begin in 1944 and end with her suicide in 1967, tracing Pauline’s descent into depression and alcohol dependency.
Directed by Fred Wienand, it is a largely static drama with gentle comedy and some searing moments; the dull repetition of Pauline’s domestic life and low moods encapsulating an era of severely limited choices for women. Anna feels less vivid as a character – Bentinck tells us she now has Alzheimer’s but its exploration is too brief, as are the excursions into her own diaries which are amusingly filled with teen posturing and delivered in a desperately contrived urban accent, but feel tacked on.
Bentinck is a charming performer and her delivery is heartfelt but it seems rather emotionally distant in its format: the show appears like a presentation cum documentary at times. Overall, this is a play that has the potential to be far stronger; the writing is good, the issues are rich and the tone tender but it needs more focus, intensity and a swifter pace.
