Review: Unflinchingly honest depiction of motherhood on Northampton stage

Jane Upton’s (the) Woman is a raw and unfiltered exploration of motherhood, identity and self-perception.

From the outset, the play dives forcefully into the complexities of being a woman who is simultaneously a mother, a writer and a person struggling to reclaim her sense of self.

In many ways it is a love letter to the difficult and unspoken truths of motherhood, peeling back the glossy veneer to expose the exhaustion, anger, loneliness and fear that so often accompany the experience of raising children.

Upton's writing is sharp and deeply affecting, capturing the tension between personal ambition and maternal identity with both humour and poignancy. This includes many visceral moments that might be uncomfortable for some, particularly in how it portrays the hormonal toll of motherhood with sometimes surprising sexual consequences.

For me, as a mother, the play resonated deeply, particularly in its portrayal of those early years of child-rearing. The trauma of birth, the erasure of personal identity, the struggle to balance ambition with caregiving — all of these themes were explored with both energy and wit.

The play effectively highlights how, once a woman becomes a mother, she becomes the subject of relentless outside scrutiny whilst simultaneously becoming invisible to society. Everyone has an opinion on who she should be, what she should do, and how she should behave. The supporting cast excelled in bringing this idea to life, portraying the various voices of judgment that constantly surround M, the central character.

One of the play’s strengths is that it does not vilify men. M’s husband played by Andre Squire, is portrayed with nuance. While their relationship is fraught with difficulty, it becomes clear by the end of the play that he has been steadfastly present all along. This complexity adds depth to the narrative, avoiding the trap of simplifying the conflict into a battle of the sexes.

However, one aspect of the play that I found slightly frustrating was its reliance on the well-worn trope of a writer writing about their own experience. M is a playwright writing a play about motherhood, and while this device allows for some meta-theatrical moments and self-referential humour, it felt somewhat predictable.

The play briefly touches on the fourth wall, poking fun at theatre itself, but the choice to make M a writer seemed like a missed opportunity to explore these themes through a different lens. Motherhood and identity crises are not exclusive to artists, and it would have been refreshing to see M in a different profession, breaking away from the all-too-familiar structure of a writer reflecting on their own life.

I also felt the play’s energy was somewhat muted in the early scenes. The dark humour, which is an essential part of the script, didn’t always land immediately, and it took the audience some time to adjust to its style. However, as the play progressed, its rhythm became stronger, and the comedic beats started to hit with more consistency. Given that this was early in the run, I have no doubt that as the cast continues to perform, they will find a sharper flow, and the humour will land with greater impact.

Despite these minor frustrations, (the) Woman is an incredibly powerful piece of theatre. It does not sentimentalise or soften the struggles of motherhood; rather, it presents them with unflinching honesty.

By the end, the emotional weight of the story lingers, making it a play that stays with you long after you leave the theatre. For anyone who has ever felt lost in the roles that others have imposed upon them, (the) Woman is a deeply resonant and necessary watch. It doesn’t provide easy answers, but it offers something far more valuable: recognition.

The play ran from February 13 to 15. Visit newperspectives.co.uk/the-woman for details of future tour dates.