Criticising the conventional depiction of the nuclear family, Florian Zeller’s The Mother invites the audience to witness the breakdown of the family unit through the eyes of the mother, the creator.

With her children having flown the nest, and her husband constantly away on business, a lonely and medicating Anne (Gina McKee) welcomes her son back to the family home after he was initially ignoring her calls.

Originally written in French, Christopher Hampton has successfully translated not only Zeller’s words, but also his flair for black humour. The quick dialogue between Anne and her husband Peter (Richard Clothier) in the beginning scenes, establishes them as a long suffering married couple, and provides the play with lighter moments. Anne’s droll sense of humour and McKee’s cutting delivery (she relishes at the thought of wearing red to Peter’s funeral), perfectly counteracts Peter’s nonchalant attitude. The repertoire between the two characters is genuine and makes the audience believe that this is a once loving and now vacuous suburban household.

When the pedestalled son Nicholas (William Postlethwaite) returns home in the middle of the night, Anne dances on the line between nurturing and possessive. Anne’s intense love for her son defines her as a mother, and is a role the audience both scrutinise her for and empathise with. Ecstatic to have her pride and joy return to where he belongs, Anne begins her campaign of ridding Nicholas of his girlfriend, and accepting Peter’s alleged infidelity. However, as the play unravels the audience are forced to question Anne’s mental stability. Scenes repeat themselves with characters revealing titbits of information that causes reality to become warped and intertwined with fantasy. The change in Anne’s demeanour lends itself to suggest a decline in her initially sharp sensibility.

At this point in the play, the production comments on Anne’s mental health. Music is used to enhance sounds of doors slamming shut, and lights switch erratically between blue, dark yellow and fluorescent white (intentionally dark yellow in scenes shared between Anne and Nicholas). Changes to the set are complimented by jazz music, which textured in sound and complex in the variety of instruments used, heightens Anne’s erratic behaviour.

The simplistic set design of white walls, with stage lights appearing at the corners, is eerie and striking on the eye. The clinical feel of the set is disturbed by the lighting changes and colourful props, which adheres to Zeller’s recurring themes of unease, dreams and menacing atmospheres. The set is most prominent in the final scene as it suggests the true location of the play and throws the audience into turmoil as they try to decipher between reality and fantasy.

Anne, the mother in question is the ‘people’s mother’ as there is a part of her in every mother in the world. The Mother explores the matriarch’s position in the family structure after her ‘job’ is subsequently over, and as the audience watch Anne struggle with a reverse case of separation anxiety, they will leave The Tricycle Theatre eager to call their own mothers…but perhaps not in a rush to visit them

The Mother is playing at The Tricycle Theatre until Saturday 5 March. For more information about the play, see www.tricycle.co.uk