Redtwist Theatre’s revival of Marsha Norman’s “’night, Mother,” winner of the 1983 Pulitzer Prize for drama, poses quite the dilemma for me, as a critic. Executive artistic director Dusty Brown’s production is solid and well-acted, but I have mixed feelings about the play itself, which is an unflinchingly bleak portrait of one woman’s decision to commit suicide. Although its honest discussion of what led her to this moment is valuable, especially for viewers who haven’t experienced suicidal ideation, this domestic tragedy is so devoid of hope that it’s difficult to recommend.
The opening scene begins with a deeply unsettling revelation. Sitting at the kitchen table, Jessie (Anne Sheridan Smith) calmly announces to her elderly mother, Thelma (Kathy Ruhl), that she plans to use her late father’s gun to end her own life that very night. Her matter-of-fact tone is shocking enough for the audience, but Thelma is even more confused because she thought Jessie was feeling better than usual lately; her daughter appears too “normal” to go through with suicide. Jessie responds, “I waited until I felt good enough.”
This admission captures a basic but important truth: people who seem to be doing fine, even to those closest to them, may be suffering internally. Moreover, suicide is not always a desperate or spontaneous act. Certainly not for Jessie.
Smith gives an understated, compelling performance as Jessie, Thelma’s live-in caretaker and the divorced mother of a troubled son. Struggling with her mental health as well as epileptic seizures, Jessie has trouble holding down a job and isolates herself in her mother’s rural home. With dark wood paneling, exposed insulation, a faded floral couch and dated magazines on the table, the place looks like it hasn’t been updated since at least the 1990s, though the wall calendar is open to April 2026 (scenic design by Bobbie Buie, props design by Nick Bartleson and Leo Bassow).
As mother and daughter spend this fateful evening together, they share more with each other than they apparently have in years, if ever, asking difficult questions and expressing old hurts and regrets. Ruhl’s performance is pathetic, in the literal sense of evoking pity, as Thelma tries to understand Jessie’s decision and convince her to stay. Eventually, she realizes how carefully her daughter has planned her exit, down to making a list of where Thelma can find the spare light bulbs and laundry detergent when she’s left alone.
The nagging doubts I have about Norman’s play largely have to do with this very sense of normality. By presenting Jessie as sympathetic, rational and autonomous, it runs the risk of making suicide seem like a viable, even attractive, option. Feeling hurt, tired, sad and used, Jessie compares her experience of life to being stuck on a hot, crowded bus while your stop is still far down the road. She’s simply choosing to step off the bus early — a decision that sounds downright reasonable.
Of course, I can already hear the devil’s advocate pointing out the irony: “Critic complains that play about suicide is too depressing.” Would it be better to leave this topic in the shadows? Obviously not. Would it be more comfortable viewing if Jessie were a sensationalized or unstable character, creating distance between her and the audience? Maybe, but that would hardly be helpful.
Call me naïve, but I prefer tragedies that offer at least a kernel of hope that “maybe it will turn out this time,” to quote the Greek mythology-inspired musical “Hadestown.” For me, that’s the missing piece in “’night, Mother.” At no point does it appear that Thelma will succeed in her efforts to change Jessie’s mind. While this inevitability may be true to life, who does it help? From the perspective of many viewers, whether they’ve struggled with suicidal ideation or loved someone who has, surely, it’s better to leave the theater with a sense that staying alive is both possible and desirable.
Emily McClanathan is a freelance critic.
Review: “’night Mother” (2.5 stars)
When: Through May 24
Where: Redtwist Theatre, 1044 W. Bryn Mawr Ave.
Running time: 1 hour, 45 minutes
Tickets: $10-$60 (pay-what-you-can Fridays) at redtwisttheatre.org
