Marianne Elliot (War Horse, Angels in America) directed Sam Holcroft’s Rules for Living at the National in 2015. It was the last production of Nick Hytner’s golden decade as the National’s Artistic Director. Then, in 2017, it went on tour with Simon Godwin, who was quietly tipped to take over from Greg Doran at the RSC, but didn’t. He’s currently Artistic Director of the Shakespeare Theatre Company in Washington, DC. Irrelevant, you may be thinking, but I’m just saying what big shoes Mel Powell had to fill. And fill them he did!

The lights go up on a traditional sitting/dining room where we see some drink on the sideboard and a partly-dressed Christmas tree in the corner. There’s nothing over the top in this family – at the moment! Noddy Holder screams ‘It’s Christmas!’ (apparently, he gets about £1m in residuals from this song every year) and Carrie and Matthew make their entrance. It’s her first Christmas with the family, and with Matthew. She’s ill at ease, trying to please and dressed for Christmas with a short skater dress and red sparkly jacket. He’s wearing what he always wears – white shirt and grey trousers. She’s not a fit for this family – smart of wardrobe to signal this so early on. And they’re arguing. So far, so Ayckbourn!

Rules of Living is a clever play that uses the artful device of displaying each character’s coping mechanisms – or rules for living – on the kitchen cupboards as they gather at the family home for Christmas lunch. So we learn that when Matthew tells a lie, he must sit down. It’s the sort of coping method used in CBT (cognitive behaviour therapy), which is where Holcroft got the inspiration (and title) for the play, having had some treatment herself. There’s laughter when Carrie asks Matthew if his mother likes her, and he sits down to say ‘yes’ – we know he’s lying!

Matthew (played by Laurence Lowe with nervous warmth and bonhomie) perks up when Sheena, his sister-in-law, walks in. Carrie is, literally, put in the corner to peel the carrots while Matthew flirts with Sheena until Adam, his brother, appears. Their daughter, Emma, is upstairs in bed, suffering from something like ME, a condition nobody takes seriously except her mother.

There’s a powerful scene when Sheena (a perfectly cast Bridget Aujla) tries to explain Emma’s condition and the benefits of CBT. She wants Adam to accompany her to therapy sessions, but he’s having none of it. Adam Chamberlain’s a fine embodiment of this character whose life rule is to use a silly accent to mock, which he does all the time. As they bicker, I felt there could
have been a bit more Christmas around – perhaps sounds of Edith and Carrie singing carols in the kitchen, as they said they would. But then, maybe not. They’ve forgotten all about Christmas and descended into their dysfunctional habits around each other.

Edith – avoidant, anxious mother – is cleaning, while trying to create a special Christmas to welcome home her husband Francis, who’s suffering from an undisclosed ailment. She’s also self-medicating and scenes are punctuated with cries of ‘where are my tablets?’ She appears to have left a lot to the last minute and adds to poor Carrie’s insecurity by pointing out that she’s used the wrong scraper for the carrots. And someone’s put her best glasses in the dishwasher! Mary Powell as Edith did that clever thing actors sometimes do of playing so well you forget they’re acting.

When finally Francis appears, in a wheelchair and in a worse condition than Edith had let on, she continues to act as if he’s alright really, and sits him at the dining table next to Carrie, whom he proceeds to grope. Carrie’s rules are that she has to make a fool of herself until she gets a laugh, and Jo Manser gets plenty throughout the play as she brings great energy – and not a little pathos – to a challenging role.

Pete Dawson, relying on few words and wicked facial expressions, reveals in Francis the source of the family neuroses. Despite his disabilities, he manages to bully everyone, as we learn he’s done for all of his married life. Today, with the family gathered at the table, he bullies a reluctant Matthew into singing a verse of ‘A Modern Major General’, which was so well performed, and such a relief from the tension, I wanted him to sing the whole thing.

A shout out here for props throughout the show. I can’t believe that wasn’t a real turkey?? (ed: it was – all eight of them!) And congratulations to Sheena for the masterly carving of it!

By the time they sit down to play Bedlam, the card game Matthew teaches them, there’s not much Christmas spirit around, and tempers flare. We watch the rules for living disintegrate as the scene descends into a furiously energetic punch-up, with food and fists flying, impressively choreographed by Chris Janes. It demonstrates what I’ve always thought about CBT – that it doesn’t work for long. You can’t suppress your feelings forever – if they don’t come out the chimney, they’ll come out the window, won’t they!

In the midst of it all, the door opens and Emma, played sweetly and with impressive stillness by Chloë Evans, asks ‘what are you doing?’ So the only one whose emotional difficulties are acknowledged brings the grown-ups to their senses.

As a relative newcomer to CoPs, I’m amazed by how much can be achieved in a small space. I usually review for the local press, so at this point I’d be exhorting you not to miss this great show. But hopefully you all saw it, and enjoyed it as much as I did! Congratulations to all involved.