A powerful performance from Tanya Moodie brings the cruel inadequacies of social care sharply into focus
In its 36-year history, Clean Break theatre has tackled some of the most unforgiving topics in innovative and thought-provoking ways, as it fulfils its remit to address the themes of vulnerable women, crime and justice, through drama and new writing.
That tradition continues with Joanne, an intense and uncompromising five-part collection of monologues dissecting the 24 hours that precede the tragic end of a young life.
Five writers were commissioned to create the show in response to the pressure the company sees on 'frontline' public service staff, whose work in helping women in the criminal justice system is increasingly compromised as they face a morale-sapping succession of cuts and privatisation.
So we never see Joanne herself, except through the eyes of five women who should have been able to help her.
All these roles are played by Tanya Moodie, making it in effect a one-woman show. It's a major undertaking, and Moodie's extraordinary talent and assurance are evident from the opening lines of Stella, by Chino Odimba. She follows this with policewoman-with-a-heart Grace (by Ursula Rani Sarma), nervy A&E receptionist Kathleen (by Deborah Bruce), bitter hostel manager Alice reflecting on her wasted MBA as she sweeps up rubbish (by Theresa Ikoko), and teacher Becky, whose optimism is quickly smacked down by a horrible discovery (by Laura Lomas).
The quality of writing is intriguing throughout, and Moodie not only brings an intensity and truth to all five women, but finds some good laughs in her characterisations – not least in Alice's account of her devoutly Catholic mother's bitter recriminations about her lack of grandchildren.
There is, of course, a very clear and unmistakeably political message behind these dramas, and as Alice points out with brutal clarity, for lost souls like Joanne "there are just never enough places for people to fit."
It's a tribute to the writing team that a clear vision of the absent Joanne emerges as each play unfolds, and by the close it's clear to us, as well as to those documenting Joanne's passing, that this tall, slender, troubled young woman needed only a little more help than anyone was able to give.
Designer Lucy Osborne and lighting designer Emma Chapman have achieved a remarkable intimacy with their picture frames of light, while Becky Smith's sound design also adds to the sense of unease and disquiet that underpins the production.
Roisin McBrinn is to be congratulated not only for commissioning such a vibrant and unsettling piece, but for crisp direction and casting such a mesmerising performer.
Joanne runs at the Soho Theatre until 31 October.