Welsh dramatist Sean Mathias' piece takes a simple theme - the bonds and bindings of family duty - and turns it into a bleak but riveting morality tale at the Torch Theatre.
The cast of three (Helen Griffin, Catrin Rhys and Ben McKay) contribute fine acting to the timeless tragedy of the love/hate relationship between carer and the cared-for, given an eighties setting by Mathias.
Ostracised by their neighbours, a wheelchair-bound mother and her young daughter live in impoverished isolation in a disused Swansea church.
The simple but claustrophobic set by James Humphrey is dominated by the church window, and religious metaphors abound.
As the God-fearing , working-class, stereotypical Welsh mam disabled by multiple sclerosis, Griffin is excellent. Physically limited by the character's disability, her facial expression speaks volumes.
As played by Rhys, the daughter Rita is no angel. Rita's frustration is barely contained as she encircles her mother's neck with her arms. Is it an affectionate caress or a murderous, Judas-like embrace?
Rhys' voice cracks with emotion, as she fantasises about getting 'a life'.
By exploiting the device of allowing the characters to confide in the audience, director Peter Doran evokes sympathy for mother and daughter.
In two raw scenes we see plain and dumpy Rita relieving the tedium of her existence by satisfying the sexual needs of the layabout local lads (all played to great effect by McKay).
The lilting Swansea dialect sits easily with the actors, and the west Wales audience enjoyed Mathias' witty Welsh in-jokes.
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