Though she can’t quite bring herself to say it, Abigail’s mother has recently passed away. As her next-of-kin, she is faced with the huge financial burden of organising the funeral of her mother’s dreams, with nothing to pay for it.
Abigail’s brother is happy with the council burial that their mother will receive if she is not legally claimed, but Abigail will not settle. To raise the necessary funds, Abigail decides to propose a play mirroring her current situation. As the play comes to fruition, and Abigail loses control of the narrative, her goal travels further from her grasp.
This may be the best concept for a play I have ever seen. The metatheatrical nature of Abigail’s play-within-a-play is pure genius, and is crafted with such dexterity. We are forcefully reminded that we cannot always control the narrative about those we have lost.
Every time Abigail revisits the play, she takes the microphone in hand and announces each draft. As more and more people are involved in the play’s creation, the microphone keeps getting snatched out of her hand, the story being warped beyond recognition. It is a simple yet creative way to communicate her distress.
As the staging for Abigail’s play takes root, featuring cliché ‘working class’ symbols like pint glasses, West Ham FC scarves, and ashtrays, we are made visually aware of her powerlessness. When Abigail steps into the shallow grave that takes centre stage, we see the triviality of fusing loss and art so close together.
Not only is Abigail’s play dictated by someone else, her grief is, too. Her brother is insistent that their mother was not always the charismatic, fun-loving woman that Abigail remembers her to be. It is heartbreaking to see how desperately Abigail wants to defend her mother, despite her obvious flaws.
Heartbreaking, too, is the reality that in order to be successful, Abigail must sacrifice the work she truly wants to make with the work she is told will sell. Placed in front of us is the brutal, soulless truth of her chosen industry, and the smarmy cishet men that control it.
Performances from all three actors are second-to-none. By the end, we are all weeping over the potential, or real, loss of our mothers. We share Abigail’s passion over giving her mother the best send off, and melt into tears when she finally reaches closure.
Recommended Drink: A toast to all the Mums.
Performances for My Mother’s Funeral: The Show have now concluded at EdFringe 2024.