After a long period of neglect, Githa Sowerby’s 1912 drams is receiving no less than two major revivals this year, with the Crucible ahead of London’s National Theatre by three months. Any suggestion that the play is no more than a curio, a rare example of a successful work by a female dramatist from the pre-suffrage era, should be dismissed straightaway: Rutherford & Son is an engrossing family drama in its own right, and though it may exist in the long shadow cast by Henrik Ibsen, Sowerby frequently has the beating of the Master in her skillful integration of plot with character and action with exposition.
The Rutherfords are a glass-making family from the north-east (as was Sowerby’s own family), ruled over by their tyrannical widowed father John whose word goes unchallenged by his meek sister Ann, his ineffectual clergyman son Richard and his old maid of a daughter Janet. Only his married other son John, an inventor and entrepeneur in the classic Edward tradition, has the audacity to tell Rutherford the truth: that his business is failing and is unlikely to survive without a ‘new idea’. John’s new idea is a newly-discovered form of metal alloy, but he intends to make his own fortune with it, not prop up his father’s tottering enterprise. The elder Rutherford reacts angrily to this, reasoning that he is owed his son’s discovery in return for the expensive (Harrovian) education he gave him, and because the business will ultimately pass to him. By the end of the play, Rutherford’s children have all flown the nest, leading to a surprising confrontation between the patriarch and his despised daughter-in-law, John’s wife, with whom he comes to an ‘arrangement’. An integrated sub-plot involves the maiden daughter’s romance with one of Rutherford’s most trusted workers: both get the same harsh treatment from their father/boss.
Caroline Steinbeis’ production was refreshingly straightforward, sharing many of the same qualities - clarity and emotional truth - as the play. She assembled a marvellous ensemble cast who inhabited the characters so convincingly you felt you were eavesdropping on private family business. As John Rutherford, Ciaran Owens offered a fascinating portrayal of a man blessed with talent and ambition but with insufficient maturity to convert his dreams into reality: His confrontations with his father were thrilling stand-offs, with John having to turn his back on the patriarch in order make his points.
It was fitting that Owen Teale should dominate most of his scenes as the bullying autocrat, a man who sees his children less as individuals than as extensions of his own will. Sowerby employs the classic dramatic device of making the central character encroach.on the action even before his arrival on stage, with so much of the expository dialogue making reference to him, and Teale’s eventual appearance justified this prolonged drum-roll: a towering figure in a fine blue worsted suit, he has the natural authority of a man whose bite is far worse than his bark, especial telling in the scene with his departing curate son (Esh Alladi, in a performance brimming over with self-disgust) where he gives no doubt as to his real feelings for the bloodless young man. It’s a performance all the more remarkable since the character, for all his troubles, evades our sympathy.
There were some fine supporting performances from Laura Elphinstone as Janet, the dowdy sister watching her last chance at happiness fly past her, Brian Lonsdale as her timorous lover, Marian McLaughlin as the spinster aunt and an uproarious cameo from Lizzie Roper as an invading member of the lower orders. Sowerby’s writing is at times over-emphatic, with a tendency to repeat a point once it has already been made but for the most part the cast managed to ride over this weakness. Only the final confrontation between Rutherford and his daughter-in-law Mary (Danusia Samuel) might have benefited from a bit more force.
Lucy Osborne provided a splendidly naturalistic set and Oliver Vibrans specially composed score evoked the Second Viennese School, appropriately for the period.
Reviewer - Richard Ely
on - 12/2/19
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