By Constance Drugeot 

Pictures: all rights reserved

On February 8th, we were delighted to be invited to the U.K. premiere of the Italian play Two Rounds at the Jermyn Street Theatre. The show, written by Cristina Comencini and directed and translated from Italian by Aida Rocci, explores the condition of women across two generations – the first act being set in the 1960s and the second, thirty years later in the 1990s. Through the eyes of four rather different women, we get a glimpse of what it means to be a woman in 1960s Italy – although this could be set in any European country – and despite the progress witnessed throughout three decades, we are faced with the same inevitable patriarchal barriers… 

The story follows four incredible performers – Natalie Culter, Daria Mazzocchio, Flora Sowerby and Saria Steyl – whose characters meet every Thursday to play cards and openly discuss their lives, expectations, and fallen dreams. Claudia, played by Natalie Culter, looks happy enough in her position as a wife and mother. Yet, as the discussion goes on, we discover that she is hopeless about her way of life but doesn’t see another way. Sofia (Saria Steyl) is trapped in a loveless marriage, which only happened because she got pregnant, and has a lover who, as she says, will never leave his wife for her. Gabriella (Flora Sowerby) loves her family dearly but is forever resentful of the fact that she had to give up her music career for them. Only the youngest of them, Beatrice (Daria Mazzocchio), who is expecting, is still holding on to the hope that things will change for women and she’ll be happier than her own mother had ever been. 

Fast forward to thirty years later when the daughters of these four women meet at the same place. However, the circumstances are much more tragic. We learn that Beatrice, the hopeful dreamer and Giulia’s mother, has committed suicide just like her mother before her. We then all get to see how these women built their lives and we realise that it’s not much better than their mothers’. Of course, women’s condition has evolved: they have more freedom and independence, and most of all, they have a choice – whether to be a mother or not. And yet, as the daughters discuss their lives at the same table their mothers used to, we realise that society still has a long way to go to give women their rightful place without making their lives revolve around being a wife or a mother. 

As we move from one decade to another, very few changes happen with the set. The back wall, which is adorned by vintage pictures of women getting married or holding their children, is covered with a white blanket. The furniture remains the same but is similarly hidden away with a white sheet. This is the home of Beatrice, who has just taken her own life, and the house seems to lose its breath all the same. This simple yet striking staging alongside the evolution from conservative to more modern clothing, all designed by Evelien Van Camp, helps us visualise the differences – or lack thereof – between now and then. The pictures showing the traditional path of a woman are put away as if to symbolise women’s found independence. But as the daughters reunite under such gloomy circumstances, we can’t help but ask ourselves – have they really reached it?  

In this confined auditorium with very little background music, I was deeply stricken by their performances’ vulnerability and honesty. The script by Cristina Comencini is raw and full of fire, and being a woman hearing women argue and debate about their role and rights within society (whether now or then) makes it even more powerful. Two Rounds is definitely a show about women, created by women for women.

Two Rounds beautifully manages to expose the reality of what it means to be a woman whether in the 60s, 90s, or now, in an intricately constructed conversation between friends playing cards on a Thursday afternoon. The dialogue goes from serious to fun to passionate and all the inbetweens – and despite the different opinions or ways of thinking, these friends listen to one another and respect each other. Because women always find a way to be supportive as we understand one another. In a time when Greta Gerwig’s Barbie exists, this play only reminded me of America Ferrera’s speech about being a woman. And how impossible it is. 

What better way to sum it up than by mentioning Beatrice’s beloved love letter given to her by her husband? A letter she kept with her every day but we only get to hear it by the end of act two, after she has taken her own life. While reading it, the daughters wonder, same as we do, how a letter this passionate could have been written by a man who didn’t even notice that his wife wasn’t breathing next to him. 

And it makes us wonder: when will society acknowledge women as human beings?