FringeReview UK 2025
Jane Upton (the) Woman
New Perspectives, Royal & Derngate, Northampton
Genre: Biographical Drama, Contemporary, Drama, Feminist Theatre, Mainstream Theatre, New Writing, Political, Puppetry, Short Plays, Theatre
Venue: Connaught Theatre, Worthing
Festival: FringeReview UK
Low Down
(the) Woman was shortlisted for the Bruntwood prize. Now directed by Angharad Jones for New Perspectives, it arrives at the Connaught, Worthing near the end of its month-long tour on March 15th. It returns to the Park Theatre Finsbury Park, in late September for a month-long run. It’s a must-see.
A ground-breaking play, fully deserving of its London run. Catch it there.
Review
“I just expected… more.” This from an ex is just one moment hemming M into an identity as mother, aka failure, post-sexy, post-writing career. When actually reported to her, they goaded Jane Upton into a creative rage so intense her first draft of (the) Woman was shortlisted for the Bruntwood prize. Now directed by Angharad Jones for New Perspectives (where she’s artistic director) and produced by Royal & Derngate Northampton, it arrives at the Connaught, Worthing near the end of its month-long tour on March 15th. It returns to the Park Theatre Finsbury Park, in late September for a month-long run. It’s a must-see.
Upton’s known for gritty plays like the beautifully observed (and George Devine Award-winning) All the Little Lights from 2017, ending at the Arcola. Its poetic naturalism doesn’t prepare us for this 90-minute scorch-through. Working with dramaturg Sarah Dickensen, Upton crafts a playfully interrogative work akin to Sam Holcroft’s A Mirror, Ella Hickson’s The Writer or Oil, all staged at the Almeida.
Jones said the play screamed at her. It screams laughter too. There’s nothing quite like its mix of ferocity, truth and tenderness. Upton in this four-hander guys not only the inciting incident (re-imagined) but that of a dramatist like herself. One who from her late 30s has two children in quick succession, the second of whom is ill a long time. Expectations prod M: ex, husband and enragingly the theatre industry itself with producers and agent; with edgy support from friends and one fellow mother. There’s farnk, often hilarious discussion of sexuality. Not only loss of libido, but where it emerges unbidden.
There’s a post-modern feel to the production too. Sara Perks’ set is bare, with multi-roling props where Lily Woodford’s lighting makes striking use of equipment barely concealed, as if the set deconstructs itself in a curtain at the back. Adorned with Matt Powell’s projection design it emits fourth-wall moments; as hands of three actors poke through. And at one sublime moment something else.
Bella Kear’s sound kicks in as Lizzy Watts’ M is danced round by medics as three actors multi-role. We’re soon catapulted into seedily attractive loser Matt (Cian Barry) where having confronted her ex of 20 years ago at a dodgy store, M does something drastic, not violent. Despite her contempt, M reveals masturbating over the past, and Matt‘s visceral disgust about her “axe wound” doesn’t preclude his interest.
André Squire’s permanently frustrated, wounded Husband scores with late climactic scenes. Squire’s a freakishly empathic doctor too, referencing his writer aunt. Barry and Squire relish comedically glib theatre producer/director duo Jake and Josh. Nonplussed with M’s maternity play, Jake asserts with her “tight” writing she can deliver “strong, feisty, sassy” and Jake adds “kick-ass”. Sexisms ripple, as M’s prodded to pitch a thriller-twist impromptu. All as M’s mother pushes the baby buggy in snow after a £250 train journey.
More insidious is Jamie-Rose Monk’s Agent. Slowly revealing her husband’s death and disabled child hasn’t stopped her, she reveals someone nevertheless ruthless in pursuit, who gently delivers an ultimatum.
It’s Monk who takes on M’s laconic but loyal old friend Sarah, who doesn’t do theatre except musicals. And unravelling fellow mother Julie. As M struggles with her second, sick child, Julie’s wise, if occasionally judgmental: and M reciprocates saying she’s “proud” of Julie as she battles for her child in the maternity unit. It’s the most telling traversal. But are some situations unbridgeable? And Julie asks M uncomfortable questions about her priorities. “I wouldn’t have left mine behind to meet you” she declares. Monk gives an unforgettable performance of someone now elsewhere. As Upton reveals, there’s experiential limits to even a writer’s empathy.
Exasperated by M’s long-term withdrawal, Squire’s Husband probes her, leading to a tender realisation later in the play. This is the second of (the) Woman’s two great moments, breaking ground about the nature of desire. It’s not that M’s switched off sex, but with her Husband. She questions the nature of her sexuality. “People are saying it’s better to have lots of partners, short and sweet, that don’t drain your emotional energy… So you have their body and their chat.” That’s not consoling to Husband, but as M notes: ”People I worked with years ago, they’re getting BAFTAs… Before we know it, our kids are ging to be achieving the things we always wanted for ourselves and we’ll be wondering what the fuck happened.”
It’s a first-rate cast. Watts, affirming her love of truthful parts, is known for The Durrells and as it happens was in Hickson’s Eight. Monk was a memorable Snug in Nicholas Hytner’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Barry is a ubiquitous TV presence, and Squire enjoys a string of film roles, most recently in Lenny Henry’s Three Little Birds.
M asks “Did any of us choose?” But there’s a surprise from M’s imagination and to Josh’s line about M’s children – “You’ve still got them?” – “They’re tied to a street lamp just outside.” Such writing promises long life to (the) Woman. And Upton kicks ass all the way through the epilogue. A ground-breaking play, fully deserving of its London run. Catch it there.
Associate Projection Designer Farah Ishaq, Movement Designer Lucy Glassbrook, Assistant Director Jessy Roberts, Casting Director Ellie Collyer-Bristow CDG.
