Review: Not Your Superwoman (Bush Theatre)

Review by Sam Waite

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

As much as we may preach that choosing which show to see should be about the production itself, it’s pointless to deny that unique thrill which comes from seeing stars of major screen franchises making returns to the stage. Even more so in the case of Not Your Superwoman, where two performers now widely recognised for work in some of the most successful and widely-viewed franchises in recent years join forces not in a thousand-seat West End venue, but in the comparative intimacy of the Bush Theatre.

A last hurrah for the Bush’s outgoing Artistic Director, the ever-reliable Lynette Linton, Not Your Superwoman continues the theatre’s largely impeccable output, centred as ever on deeply human, emotionally intimate stories. Here, daughter Erica and mother Joyce travel to the former’s homeland of Guyana, to spread the ashes of Erica’s grandmother in three spots central to her life there. The pair have had a difficult relationship for much of Erica’s thirty years, and communications are no smoother as past and present uncomfortably enmesh during this fateful trip.

Linton and playwright Emma Dennis-Edwards share the additional credit of “creator” and the two have crafted a rich and compelling narrative, in which generational divides and repressed traumas do not force their way to the forefront, but instead permeate both women’s lives. Dennis-Edwards’ script has plenty of pathos and emotional depth, but also a good deal of humour in its mining of two generations clashing even as they learn from one another. A hysterical early moment finds Joyce criticising Erica’s constant lateness, beginning with a weeks-late birth and multi-day labour, as well as lambasting the idea of “Caribbean time” – “She’s not late because she’s Black. She’s late because she’s ****ing inconsiderate!”

With a runtime not quite reaching ninety minutes, Dennis-Edward’s is also impressively able to create call-backs within the narrative, with an early mention of rapper Central Cee having a funny follow-up towards the final scenes, and responses to certain songs given a deeper meaning once we see more of their lives and challenges. Not Your Superwoman also moves in and out of flashbacks detailing both women's relationships with the deceased, and while initially this is somewhat jarring and takes a moment to fully understand, the effect is later essential to the play’s emotional and well-honed conclusions.

With Golda Rosheuvel’s profile raised by her work on Netflix’s Bridgerton, and Letitia Wright’s by her work in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, there is immediately a sense of anticipation around their joint return to the London stage. Before getting into the performances themselves, I have to take a moment to comment on the joy radiating from both actors during their bows, where a lack of pretence and a genuine love for their work shone so clearly through. With an elevated public profile comes expectation, new stresses, and a certain expectation of detachment – watching Wright and Rosheuvel revel in their work, dancing and laughing together, any concern of an “actorly” self-seriousness are quickly dismissed, and happily so.

So intwined are the performances that it feels wrong to try to disentangle them, different though the characters and their actors’ styles may be. Wright brings a wonderful mix of therapy-guided, carefully-constructed maturity and girlish wonder at her first visit to Guyana to Erica, her touches of culturally-curious nerdiness as compelling as the later moments in which she unleashes decades of frustrations at her mother. As Joyce, Rosheuvel is immediately familiar as the fun-loving, young at heart mum who hasn’t processed any of her own difficult history, but who has filled the gaps left behind with an infectious joy and a need to feel wanted but to keep a careful distance. Playing real, complex humans is no easy feat, but here both performers are totally enthralling, and entirely believable.

To anyone who has seen Lynette Linton’s work, the strength of it should go without question. As skilled as her actors are, Linton has built a strong and equal balance between these characters, and acting as co-creator has joined Dennis-Edwards in crafting two impeccable roles. Both actors also step into the role of Joyce’s own mother, Elaine, for the flachback scenes, and once the initial confusion has passed these transitions are powerful and well-handled, with capable support coming from movement director Shelley Maxwell to smoothly facilitate the change of roles.

Not Your Superwoman is also a visual splendour from the moment the audience enters the auditorium, where a gauze curtain hangs around the stage onto which the actors’ longing states projected. This curtain sharply drops during Joyce’s opening monologue, and the back wall then becomes a canvas for Gino Ricardo Green’s striking video design. As well as bringing locations from homes in different nation's and even majestic waterfalls to life, this video design also brings the audience some of the way into Joyce’s recurring dreams and Erica’s longings for familial connection, literal shadows on their ancestors flitting across the walls as scenes transition. Excessive video backdrops can have a gimmicky quality, and many oppose their use beyond what is strictly necessary, but in Not Your Superwoman they are a consistently welcome addition, and serve only to further ground the play in its destinations both physical and emotional.

Some other stirring visuals come to life thanks to lighting designer Jai Morjaria, particularly where lights flash across the onscreen haze, creating a moment of blinding light behind which the actors vanish, as if we have literally flashed forward through their days in Guyana. Coupled with Green’s videography, Morjaria’s design work serves to give the play a strong visual identity, and to immerse the audience in the blend of troubled dreams, wishful fantasies, and viscerally real journeying that populate the story. Alex Berry’s stage is purposefully bare, malleable for this very reason, though the shape, in which the audience sit on three sides but the cornered shape gives a clear “front” or “end” for scenes requiring it, is a surprisingly effective touch.

A fond farewell and a glowing final work from the outgoing Artistic Director, Not Your Superwoman serves not only as a strong finish to Linton’s time at the forefront of the Bush, but an extension of the theatre’s equally strong track record. With a rich, resonant script from Emma Dennis-Edwards and marvellous work from Rosheuvel and Wright, both as individuals and as an onstage duo, this is a play with plenty of wisdom to impart, and a clear artistic vision behind a thoughtful and poignant debut production.

Not Your Superwoman plays at the Bush Theatre until November 1^st 

For tickets and information visit https://www.bushtheatre.co.uk/event/not-your-superwoman/

Tickets for Not Your Superwoman are sold out at the time of writing, but some can be purchased through the TodayTix rush, and the Bush Theatre encourage you to sign up to the mailing list at the link above for any future releases or announcements.

Photos by Richard Lakos