There is something immediately familiar about Cathy. She is the kind of Scottish Catholic matriarch who has an opinion on everything and is not particularly interested in whether you want to hear it or not.
Her husband Tommy has just died and, in the aftermath of the funeral, the family gathers around her. Written and directed by Eilidh Loan, Cathy is inspired by her grandmother and how she dealt with the grief of losing her husband. Elaine C. Smith was her grandmother’s choice for the title role, and Smith gives a compelling performance that allows her to move beyond the broad comedy for which she is so well known.
There are plenty of laughs. A priest without any socks, the wrong Chinese takeaway and Cathy’s Protestant son in law Colin wearing a Union Jack top to protect his pristine white shirt during the post funeral meal all capture a recognisable strain of Scottish family life. The laughter gradually becomes something more uncomfortable. Cathy has spent years caring for Tommy and his death has left her grieving. It is only through her prayers that we begin to understand how she feels.
She begins taking his clothes and belongings to the charity shop, prompting an argument with her daughter Flo, played by Michele Gallagher. When Flo later thinks Cathy is trying to hang herself, only to discover she is changing a lightbulb, the comedy comes perilously close to tragedy. The play centres on a mother and daughter whose relationship becomes increasingly vicious. Love turns to resentment and the exchanges have a particular cruelty that comes from knowing somebody so well that you know exactly where to hurt them.
There is tenderness with Sally Reid’s Lizzie, the grieving woman running the charity shop, provides Cathy with an unexpected connection. Away from the family, these two women recognise something in each other and the play finds a quieter emotional space.
Smith doesn’t make Cathy endlessly likeable and that is what makes the performance work. Beneath the sharp tongue and comic timing is a woman who has lost the person around whom her life was built and is struggling to discover what comes next. At times, though, the swearing and crudity push a bit too hard, feeling less like character and more like a bid for the next laugh. The play is strongest when it trusts the painful truth of these relationships rather than reaching for another gag.
Cathy’s relationship with her granddaughter Amy brings another warmth to the family, their humour and affection offering a counterpoint to the tensions with Flo. As Christmas approaches and pregnancy brings Cathy and her daughter closer together, the play allows some seasonal warmth into its often bruised family portrait.Cathy understands that grief is rarely dignified.
It can be angry, absurd, selfish and cruel. Loan finds comedy in that reality without allowing the darkness to consume her character completely. The result is an evocative, bruising and distinctly Scottish family drama in which the laughs often arrive with a sting.
Cathy, Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh. Until August 30.
