A PASSIONATE WOMAN

I suppose that there's a 19-year old still lurking somewhere in every middle-aged man or woman. Kay Mellor's take on this – which it is well-known was inspired by something in her own mother's life – gives the soubriquet of "a passionate woman" to Betty on the morning of her adored son's wedding-day. But "a passionate man" might equally be applied to Betty's apparently dour and down-to-earth husband Donald.

As with all good comedy, there's heartbreak bubbling up through the frothy crust. It's helped along in this case by one of Rodney Ford's ingenious sets as well as by cleverly nuanced performances sympathetically nudged along by Bob Carlton's direction. The nominal star of the show may be Marji Campi as Betty, all powder-pink crimpelene shrouded in a wrap-round overall – and she is very good – but James Earl Adair and Sam Pay as Donald and bridegroom Mark match her.

The cast is completed by Mark Newnham as the young man aptly nicknamed Craze. He's a revenant from Betty's early married years and, like others of his ilk, not entirely benign. There's something unsettling about this play, as with much else of Mellor's work, something which keeps you on the edge of your seat as you wonder what will happen next. And something does. But you'll have to see A Passionate Woman to find out what that is.
 

What’s more, she creates at the centre the kind of ordinary, middle-aged woman who’d be the butt of smarter people’s jokes: a hausfrau bound and ground-down by mundane routine. Then Mellor shows her rising above it on the day her son’s marriage.

Even better, it’s set in Leeds, where the West Yorkshire Playhouse premiered the piece in 1992. For all its light manner and surface comedy, Mellor looks to the core of frustration in the intricate mass of streets between terraced houses and suburban über-affluence.

The sense of the neighbours watching emerges humorously. But first there’s the act in the attic, where Betty retreats to clean-up an hour before son Mark’s wedding. Here she suddenly meets – out of the woodwork and shadows in a deft moment of Bob Carlton’s strong production – a love of her younger days.

No-one else sees this figure of her imagination who revives her sense of romance, yet becomes, like the bored vicar’s wife Susan’s imaginary family in Alan Ayckbourn’s Woman in Mind, a dangerous temptation.

Rodney Ford’s realistically detailed set revolves to take Betty from attic to roof – and beyond in a final, unlikely step that carries the audience in sympathy with Marji Campi’s Betty. She becomes assertive while remaining kindly in manner, on the way to declaring she’s a passionate woman.

Even acknowledging that to herself is a major step, sweeping away the dust of many years. And it’s said with acceptance rather than as a fanfare, and comically so, as she rests against a huge rooftop satellite dish.

Mark Newnham as the fated ex-lover, Sam Pay as a frustrated loving son and James Earl Adair as a husband with his own passion to rediscover are also fine in Carlton’s production, which maintains comic pace while searching –out every emotional nook.

A GOOD PLAY will move you but the latest production in Hornchurch kept the audience riveted to their seats.
Kay Mellor's 'A Passionate Woman', is an inspired piece of writing about family life and turned out to be one of those occasions when the entire auditorium at the Queen's Theatre were as one.

You could feel the empathy as Marji Campi gave a stunning performance of a mother's timeline through a mundane married life.

It excelled in the way Marji used all her skill to create 'Betty', wife of Donald, mother to Mark and lover of 'Craze'; her one fling in early married life.

The great beauty of the play was everyone knows a Betty. Seemingly safe and secure, but the final rebellion to a long marriage with a self contained husband, came on her only child's wedding day.

In a few hours she was losing Mark, the one person she could talk to, hug and cuddle, as he embarked on a new life, and she simply could not go to the ceremony.

You might think it an impossible scenario, and Rodney Ford's brilliant 'Les Miserable's set of a house loft, did literally set the flavour for the scene.

As the story unfolded, the raw elements of her life struck a whole series of chords with sighs or slightly nervous laughter of understanding.

In its own way, it could have stood alone as a thought provoking and deadly serious play, but like most situations in life, it needed a burst of Eric Idle to see the 'brighter' side.

And who better to add the comfortable warm feeling, than Bob Carlton, the theatre's Artistic Director, along with Simon Jessop as his assistant.

So the laughter came easily and though tinged with the 'been there' feeling,  did had a levelling effect.

The first blip in the history was an admission to her son that this paragon of womanhood slipped off the wagon in the first few years of her married life. 

The short passionate romantic fling with a Eastern European neighbour, interestingly called Craze, came when Mark Newnham appeared with a nice portrayal as his believable ghost.

For the record his 'wife' shot him in the back, but after Betty moved away.
A loose end to linger on, but the story came together with the confrontations of father and son.

James Earl Adair was superb as the blinkered Donald who could not see what he had done wrong, and Sam Pay as Mark was convincing as the devoted son who finally untied his mother's apron strings at the age of 31.

I had a great deal of sympathy for Sam as he had to convey his actions and emotions of leaving his wife at the altar because his mum was not going to the wedding, and get laughs as he did it.

A Passionate Woman is a rare piece of theatre that plucks at the heart but with a tickling stick.

It has superb performances from the Cut to the Chase actors and ticked the boxes for an audience that wants to be entertained as well as have an enthralling theatrical experience.

Kay Mellor’s gentle bittersweet comedy had a life on the stage long before the BBC and Billie Piper got their hands on it.
Cut to the Chase have come up with a beautifully staged revival. Betty’s loft is centre stage, with an old H aerial up top, next to a huge Sky dish. It’s her only son’s wedding day, but she’s rummaging about, chattering to herself, and us, as she unpacks her memories. She’s joined by bridegroom Mark, in a slightly tight Moss Bros outfit, frustrated that his mum is going to miss the wedding she disapproves of. Bizarrely, he encourages her to try on a ball gown from the old Locarno days.
From then on things get even more unlikely. If you’re new to the story, and want the whole blithe-spirited high jinks to come as a surprise, you might want to look away now.
Matt Monro on the Dansette, the glitter ball spinning, and Craze, a bit of fling from Betty’s younger days, just before her pregnancy, materialises in the attic. The second act sees Donald (Betty’s husband), till now just a voice from downstairs, join his son amongst the lumber, for some home truths and the most compelling dramatic exchanges in this patchy play. Betty herself is nowhere to be seen, but the skylight is open, and, in a clever coup, the rooftop revolves to reveal her behind the dish. After some very effective three-way, then four-way, confrontations we have a deus ex machina, a tug-of-love and a slightly awkward ending.
Bob Carlton’s production uses the excellent set (Rodney Ford) to great effect, and manages the set-pieces very skilfully. Marji Campi makes a believable wife and mother; we empathise with her whilst understanding the frustration Mark (Sam Pay) and Donald (James Earl Adair) both feel. Mark Needham has the tough task of inhabiting the ghost, the skeleton in the closet – he makes him a down-to-earth lover, cocky and a little reluctant in his pivotal role. Too casually dressed for the ballroom, though, and Mellor loses some depth by making him a “real” spirit, and not an enigmatic trick of the mind, the embodiment of half a lifetime of regret.
It’s an evening of humour, emotion, and a thoughtful reflection on love, loss and life’s bitter disappointments. As the production plays in, Craze will be more sure-footed on the roof, Betty will be more comfortable in her character, and the crucial hot-air balloon will be better behaved.

Queen’s marks the beginning of its 60th anniversary year with a comic yet thought-provoking play penned by BAFTA-winning writer Kay Mellor.

Performed within a claustrophobic attic set, littered with carpet off-cuts, Christmas decorations and battered suitcases stuffed with cherished mementoes, Betty’s dust-ridden retreat masquerades as her time-machine, far from her nagging husband.

Marji Campi calls on her vast experience to the role of slipper-clad Betty. A constant throughout Act I, Campi’s nostalgic monologues really do roll back the years, as she longs for the days when her wrinkle-free 19-year-old self would dance the night away to Matt Monro and Johnny Mathis.

Sam Pay, as mummy’s boy Mark, brings the most comic value to the offering. When joined by Mark Newnham’s Craze, Betty’s passionate fling from yesteryear, the ensuing three-way conversation is amusingly crafted.

Bob Carlton makes sure those awkward domestic under-currents are never far away, as Mark’s impending marriage is the catalyst for relationship evaluation. Scenes of hilarity become interwoven with touching displays of raw emotion before being punctuated with dramatic contemplation.

James Earl Adair’s Donald, a muffled voice throughout Act I, is as expected, straight out of Grumpy Old Men. Wonderfully crabby as Betty’s unappreciative other half, he finally emerges post interval. As the source of his frustration and despair reveals itself the audience gains sympathy - as it does with each member of the troubled family.

The play’s ending is somewhat bizarre, yet doesn’t detract from excellent character interactions throughout.