Queenie has early-onset Alzheimer's and is deteriorating quickly, and Kamala and her brothers Raj (Raj Bajaj) and Gopal (Marc Elliott) have to balance her wishes with what's actually best for her.
While she's still able to communicate, Queenie embraces traditional Indian values she's never been that vocal about before, and asks that she's cared for by her family rather than in a home: She'll spilt her time between her three children's houses. But as she becomes a danger to herself and others her children's options start to look more limited. And Gupta has a further twist of the knife in mind, as it turns out the first act ends around early 2020, and Queenie is put in a care home just as her family will be forbidden from visiting her because of lockdown.
Pooja Ghai's production is equal parts harsh and atmospheric, helped by Rosa Maggiora's simple, stepped set, Matt Haskins' lighting and Nitin Sawhney's music to move between the unhappy reality and the comfortingly dreamlike place Queenie often inhabits; John Bulleid's illusions contribute to the dream world as well as giving us disconcerting moments of the gaps in Queenie's perception of the world.
As well as the essential tragedy of a woman losing her grip on reality there's also the cracks it widens in the family's relationship - particularly the resentment Queenie feels towards her eldest, Raj, which she's never particularly hidden but which comes out particularly bluntly now: This is a show where the audience often gasped loudly at the sheer bile coming out of the mother's mouth, and by the interval even the ushers were visibly traumatised. But Gupta does also provide enough moments of dark humour, as well as the celebration of Queenie's life and achievements up to the point of her decline, to stop this from being an entirely miserable experience.
For me it was also interesting to see the specific nods to King Lear in dialogue, the structure of Queenie moving between her children's homes before being cast out into a (metaphorical) storm, and the idea that one of the children had at one point been "banished" by her. There's a fiercely loyal Kent figure in her best friend Indrani (Shobna Gulati,) and a comforting Fool in her husband Ameet (Zubin Varla,) who's an increasingly constant presence - although that's a bad sign in itself, given he's been dead for twenty years.
And the more her condition worsens, the more time Queenie spends in this happy memory, and Gupta finds these ways to soften her bleak story - even her carer Pavel's (Stephen Fewell) talk to Queenie about how her body is shutting down in her final hours is tender and comforting. In the end it's the world dealing with Queenie's decline that has the most to contend with, and although the play's coda is a bit too long - a combative encounter with Avita Jay's jobsworth bureaucrat is quite an abrupt tonal jump, and I'd argue you're only allowed a few seconds' worth of drawing out a plot twist if that twist is literally in the play's title - this remains a painful but ultimately hopefuly experience, with Syal fully earning her standing ovation for a warts-and-all performance.
A Tupperware of Ashes by Tanika Gupta is booking until the 16th of November at the National Theatre's Dorfman.
Running time: 2 hours 30 minutes including interval.
Photo credit: Manuel Harlan.
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