Open Space revisit Ayckbourn
Posted on 8th May 2026
It was over ten years ago that Open Space last tackled one of Alan Ayckbourn’s most challenging plays. At the time, I commented that the company are best known for revitalising challenging period drama. A decade on, and it’s now forty years since Woman in Mind was first performed. It remains very much of its time, so it’s arguably now a period drama. Certainly, it’s hard to imagine such a dark, introspective examination of a woman trapped in domesticity being written by a man today.
We first meet Susan recovering from a nasty bump on the head while being attended to by a doctor talking gibberish. It quickly becomes apparent that we are hearing what Susan is hearing, a neat theatrical device signalling that we are in the hands of an unreliable narrator. Rob Backhouse did well to deliver his nonsense lines with such conviction, but it’s Yves Green’s reaction that sells the concept. Necessarily on stage for the entire performance, since we are only seeing her perception of events, she gives an assured and authentic portrait of a troubled mind throughout. This is by no means a one woman show, but the play revolves around her, and without the pivotal excellence of Green’s performance nothing else would work. What makes this all the more impressive is that she stepped into the role at the last minute. When the original cast member had to withdraw she was asked to reprise her appearance as Susan from over a decade ago.
Without giving too much away, it’s surely fair to say she has two husbands. Mike Davison’s heightened delivery of Andy tips off the attentive that all is not what it seems. Conversely, Frank Boyd injects considerable humour – think All Gas and Gaiters – into the terminally dull Gerald. A priggish, self-righteous cleric reminiscent of George Elliot’s Casaubon, Boyd does well to inject humanity into a character that could have easily lapsed into caricature. Andy, Tony and Lucy – husband, brother and daughter – are, of course, just that. Offering up idealised archetypes of a family unit, Bruce Alcorn and Hannah Gardiner stay just the right side of a line of unreality. Yet they present characters that are queasily not quite right. By way of contrast – contrast being key to understanding the play’s central theme – Mitchell Pocock presents a shuffling, hesitant Rick. He is the son no one would dream up, and yet Susan so wants to have a loving relationship with him. So that just leaves Muriel, a hilarious turn by Claire Heard in a scene-stealing small part that feels like a character that has escaped from one of Ayckbourn’s more conventional comedies.
Sheridan Smith is currently wowing West End audiences in a revival of the play. It uses all manner of theatrical trickery to emphasise the difference between reality and illusion. Yet this surely undermines the premise of the play. Far better is Open Space’s simple staging, blurring the distinction in a way that mirrors Susan’s increasingly loose grip. As the play descends into riotous chaos, Susan’s closing monologue somehow hits home despite comprising nonsense words, such is the intensity with which it is delivered.