Theresa Rebeck’s play opens as a dysfunctional father-son drama with darkish laughs. The daddy is terminally in poor health, sucking on an oxygen cylinder, although nonetheless in a position to hurl accusations of abuse at his son and carer (“You’re poisoning me”).
It shortly transpires that the ailing Daniel (Invoice Pullman) is a tyrant patriarch, now susceptible however no much less imply, and refusing to resist his imminent dying at the same time as his kids convene round him. Michael (David Harbour) is the household’s black sheep, taking care of the daddy whose cruelties partly led him to be admitted to a “loony bin”.
It's a good setup for emotional sparks to fly. Below the path of Moritz von Stuelpnagel, the primary half looks as if a very savage episode of Frasier, particularly when the marginally sq. son, Nedward (Stephen Wight) and hospice nurse Lillian (Akiya Henry) enter the fray. There are some sharp strains in Rebeck’s script, although the serrated humour just isn't as blistering because it strives to be.
Mad Home loses the threads of its first half to show into a unique form of household psychodrama that might simply be one other play, with massive pivots in temper and focus. With Daniel principally offstage, it loses the humour and revolves round sibling battle, and introduces some creaking plot turns round greed and inheritance.
Daniel is a completely dislikable father who jokes about hitting his late spouse and taunts Michael about his psychological well being; there's a Trump-like tone to his anti-trans jibes and speak about faux information. Pullman does all he can with the half however his character by no means develops, repeating the identical slender repertoire of putdowns together with strains about beer, cigarettes and cash. We don't get the required reckoning between the daddy and kids for his motivations to be understood: he dislikes and disparages everybody, however why? And what's his driving drive?
Michael, the indignant outcast son, is probably the most full-bodied and compelling character so this turns into Harbour’s play, not Pullman’s. He attracts laughs and is flamboyant however there may be additionally pathos capturing the tragedy of his restricted life too. In a play with too many half-drawn, by-product characters, he's the one for whom we find yourself caring.
An excessive amount of is thrown in with out sufficient depth or structural coherence; there are echoes of King Lear as Daniel makes use of threats of disinheritance to maintain his three kids in line, at the same time as two – Nedward and Pam (Sinéad Matthews) – scheme for the profitable deeds of his home. Pam is especially flat in her villainy, which looks as if a motor for the plot.
That isn't to say that this play doesn't have wealthy and gripping moments: there may be good perception into unresolved damage in sibling relationships, particularly the best way Michael’s psychological well being points have overshadowed Pam and Nedward’s early lives. It additionally captures the best way by which adults regress into their childhood selves, scrapping over who will sleep by which bed room, and changing into bullies or allies. Performances are magnificent throughout the board, particularly within the affection that rises between Lillian and Michael, and the connection between the brothers, which deepens to virtually tenderness.
It's finally a play with bits of brilliance, aspiring for the ability and attain of an Arthur Miller or Eugene O’Neill drama however falling – heroically – quick.
On the Ambassadors, London, till 4 September.
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