Me, Mum And Dusty Springfield

This short one-woman show starts very cleverly. A young woman is on stage applying make up – the big panda-eyes made famous by Dusty Springfield. One of Dusty’s trademark frocks adorns a mannequin nearby. We are listening to the all too recognisable backing tracks to the great Diva’s songs. As the lights come up we’re not sure what we are in for – a show about Dusty herself, perhaps?Written and performed by Stephanie Ridings, what we get is something altogether cleverer and more complicated than that. It’s hard to write this review without blowing the lovely twist in the plotting. Suffice is to say Riding’s character, Mary, is mourning her mother and preparing to attend an ashes scattering ceremony (the urn is on the kitchen table). Addressing the audience as if we are her confidante, Mary informs us that Chris de Burgh, Cliff Richards Cher and Tom Jones will all be there. Elton john, who was present at the funeral, can’t make it to this ceremony though - he’s got a cruise job!This is the first clue to what’s really going on here, and if you haven’t guessed I won’t spoil it for you. We soon discover that Mary was fathered by Tom Jones, who made a pass at his own daughter at the recent funeral. No wonder this young woman drinks herself into a stupor as the show progresses (like mother, like daughter, like Dusty).In spite of its short length, this is quite a profound piece, and has much to say about the way children and parents relate. It is problematic that we don’t really get enough time to get to know Mary, so her fury and sadness can seem slightly irrational, deranged even. It’s sometimes difficult to care enough. Riding’s performance is uneven, and she seemed nervous occasionally, fluffing lines too. However, the last ten minutes are superb, and we realise how well crafted the piece is. We realise what was missing from that opening array of backing tracks – that voice. That incredible soulful voice which conquered America on the radio so completely that when Springfield turned up in the States for the first time they refused to believe it was her and not a large black diva. Ridings finally dons the frock, and the wig and belts out a classic. As a singer she’s not in the same league as her heroine (few were or are) but she sells the song to us. The pain, the anguish, the frustration, the sheer anthemic perfection of lyric and music for all who have loved and not been loved properly in return. In view of the story we have just heard, of a mother and could so desperately tying to make sense of their fractious relationship until one is ripped away by sudden death, those lyrics have never seemed more powerful….“When I said, I needed you, You said you would always stay. It wasn't me who changed, but you. And now you've gone away. Don't you see that now you've gone, And I'm left here on my own, That I have to follow you, And beg you to come home? You don't have to say you love me. Just be close at hand. You don't have to stay forever, I will understand”.Yep, I sobbed like a baby.