Holy Mothers

Werner Schwab’s Holy Mothers is a barking mad critique of modern family and religious life. Three worn women sit round a fold-out table talking sausages, sex and excrement in a drunken evening that takes an unexpected turn.

Erna is a former cleaner with an unruly son and some strict moral values; Grete’s husband has run off with another woman and she now takes comfort in her blonde curls and thick make-up; and Mariedl prides herself on her dexterity in the art of toilet cleaning.

As the three women vie for eternal salvation, they begin to imagine alternative futures. Grete’s fate is to be fondled by the musician who later asks her hand in marriage, the butcher entrusts his stock of meat to Erna’s cautious hands, and the priest rewards Mariedl’s dexterity with some wacky water-closet surprises.

Vanda Butkovic’s adaptation is absorbingly direct. The play speaks straight to a British audience with characters fit for an episode of Shameless. The sharpness of language is enhanced by the kitsch stage aesthetic so that overall, the play becomes more portrait than satire, more immediate than confrontation.

Sarah Calver brings Mariedl’s toilet cleaning triumphs to life with suggestive physicality, while Carol Robb parades Grete’s socks and sandals with delectable vulgarity. Hilary Burns’ Erna is an unshakable Catholic zealot that makes for an iconic Virgin Mary, complete with tablecloth headdress.

Holy Mothers is full of surreal religious moments, and while not always explored to their fullest extent, they add an evocative dimension to Schwab’s renowned Austrian cynicism.