Discovering the past: Lynn Redgrave (left) and Caroline John

Personal journey

nightingale
New End Theatre

WATCHING Nightingale you feel as if your presence is not always entirely needed, as if you have stumbled across somebody’s personal memoirs, for this one-man play, written and directed by Lynn Redgrave (a member of the acting family dynasty), is a personal journey – a journey Redgrave took to discover the story of her maternal grandmother Beatrice Kempson.
Caroline John resurrects the controlled and cold woman Redgrave knew through the character of Mildred Asher. John provides a solid performance dancing from inner monologues to memories of poignant exchanges in her life – but at times it felt we were watching ramblings that reflected a personal memory Redgrave remembered, rather than incidents that were truly in keeping with the character we the audience were being shown.
Millie’s pre-ordained, bleak existence, from newlywed to mother of two to widow, is discussed in front of a drab and bleak stage. Her life is one duty after another – daughter, wife, mother – yet the tragedy of this story is that she is fully aware of her plight and it is the stifling era she has been brought up in that restricts her from acting on these complaints.
The bitterness that comes with this knowledge is shown through spiteful thoughts and behaviour towards her own daughter who she refers to as ‘Daddy’s Girl’.
Ultimately her daughter lives the life she could only dream of and Redgrave parades this in front of Millie’s eyes when Rosie, now a Lady and respected actress, plays the role of Ibsen’s Nora, who rejects social conventions and turns her back on her husband to forge a new existence for herself.
Moments of humour and wit are introduced through the flirtatious and light-hearted sister and there are glimpses of the alternative existence Millie could have had, notably her meeting with a rustic farmer, but these moments are sparse.
There is no great crescendo to this production; it steadily plods along with the ticking of the clock and John personifying the passing of time by delicately aging (despite remaining in the same costume and with little help from props). It is far from inspiring or uplifting, but the play does offer a subtle sentimental exploration of the suffocating nature of time, and our responsibilities to others and ourselves.
Until 18 February
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