Author: Molly Pipe
Rutherford is aging. Not that he wants to admit it. Physically powerful and unignorably blunt, he has dragged himself out of his working class roots to become a successful factory owner. But, as he only acknowledges a full 2 hours into the play – ‘I’m getting old, they say.’
Rutherford and Son is set in the dying throes of the Victorian age. Long-held values are disbanding as the Suffragist movement gains momentum down south, and workers in the north clamour for better conditions. None of this matters in the cold Tyneside house ruled over by Rutherford. He has bullied his family into submission, turning one son into a bumbling fool, one into an unrealistic dreamer and his daughter into an unloved prisoner of high society. Dreams and aspirations of the other characters are whispered, shared in looks, rarely dared to be said aloud – at least at the beginning of the play.
It’s tempting to view Rutherford as a brute, but the reality is more complex. Owen Teale’s performance brings out the man’s keen intelligence, his sure technical and business grasp and his strong sense of morality – even if that morality is at odds with the rest of the characters’. In comparison, John’s attempts at entrepreneurship seem foolish and ill-advised. Richard’s talk of religion seems petty. It’s harder to condemn this version of Rutherford, and as a result the play’s didactic leaning becomes more difficult to pin down.
The cast’s performances are excellent, and highlighted beautifully by Steinbeis’ direction. Moments of humour are pitched perfectly and are unafraid to sit within much darker scenes. The relationships between characters are subtly evidenced, the staging is unobtrusively inventive, the dialogue powerfully delivered. These are a cast and director that bring out the best of an already fine script.
The rugged realism of this production can be seen from its first moments. Osborne has created a detailed set, complete with a real fire in the grate and real bread on the table – and when John’s wife Mary makes her first appearance it is with a genuine baby in her arms. The only departure from this steadfast homage to reality is the backdrop: the elegant furnishings of the townhouse give way sharply to a red brick industrial wall, the words Rutherford and Son emblazoned across it. The presence of the factory, and the man who runs it, are impossible to get away from.
Although long – very long – Sowerby’s script is undoubtedly powerful. There are remarkably few references to the outside world, but the change in political hue is captured brilliantly through the characters’ interactions. Over the course of 2 days, the refined Edwardian surroundings become a battleground for opinions, ambitions – and attempts to simply be heard. Sowerby’s answers to the questions she poses aren’t always clear, but her heartfelt demand for social debate cannot be avoided.
*****
Rutherford and Son is at Sheffield Theatres until the 23rd of February. More information here.
Photography by The Other Richard
Reviewing Sheffield: Theatre in the Steel City 