Born in the Gardens

In spite of the fact that it’s set in 1979, Stephen Unwin’s production of Peter Nichols sparkling four-​hander, is very much alive-​and-​kicking, today. From the outset, the humour hits home, as mother, Maud, talking with middle-​aged son, Maurice, pats her curly ‘do, telling us about her aphrodisiac hair.
Maud chats away, endlessly, with the silent characters (volume turned-​off) on her tiny black-​and-​white TV, sharing the minutiae of her life with everyone who appears on-​screen. All the while, her dead husband lies in his coffin — in the mock-​Tudor sitting room they share — while Maurice (Mo) disappears to prepare the latest liquid concoction from their vast alcoholic archive. As they await the arrival of siblings Hedley and Queenie, for the funeral, we learn of Maud’s penchant for ‘last-​minute’ bulk-​buying and the Tampax she stock-​piles, in the freezer
When the siblings join them, the depth of their dysfunction continues to unfold. Maud refuses to comprehend that Hedley is a Labour backbencher, out-​of-​choice, firmly believing that it’s a television subtitling error and that he’s really a Tory. Queenie can’t keep her hands, or lips, off her twin brother as she tries to lure him back to California with her. Hilarity ensues when Mo fixes Queenie’s — vodka and consommé-​based Bullshot — post-​funeral cocktail of choice. Maud is rapidly converted as she relishes her first taste and regales us with her enjoyment of the Bullshit!
Further punning gems lighten the darker undertones, as Hedley attempts to persuade Maud to move-​into a new duplex, or a ‘condo’, (according to Queenie). Unsurprisingly, we learn from Maud that she has no intention of moving-​into an abandoned condom or an empty, used durex
Stephanie Cole excels as mite-​fixated Maud, Simon Shepherd embodies misunderstood Hedley; Allan Corduner and Miranda Foster perfectly portray painful, middle-​aged twins, Maurice and Queenie. Powerful, hilarious and thought-​provoking.