Dixon and Daughters
Writer: Deborah Bruce
Director: Kim Hardwick
Old Fitzroy Theatre, Woolloomooloo
September 18 – October 3, 2026
When Mary (Vanessa Downing), the family matriarch, arrives home to reunite with her daughters after three months in prison for perjury, one’s expectation would be that there would be some familial jubilation. Instead, their interaction is reminiscent of an ongoing argument which just continues from where it left off before Mary went to jail. The dialogue between the family members is acerbic and confrontational, but still manages to deliver some humour throughout, before progressing to revelations of the dark secrets that affect them all.
Writer Deborah Bruce sets her play in working class Yorkshire, revealing the effect of long established aberrant social behaviour on the lives of women in this dysfunctional family. Stoic and unemotional, Mary attempts to re-establish her matriarchal authority by finding fault with everything. Her invitation to and fawning over a young prison acquaintance, Leigh (Rylea Eilis), is seemingly an attempt to create a buffer against her daughters’ accusations. Her children, being of a later generation, are deeply outraged that she did not protect them, and was seemingly complicit with their predatory father.
Mary’s incomprehensible loyalty to her abusive husband is understandable, if not acceptable, in the context of the social norms of her times – survival meant attendance to domestic duties and total subservience. She existed in a time when women were given minimal or no education, and thus had little economic power. Mary’s desperately bleak question “If I’m not his wife, then what am I?” is deeply chilling to a modern audience.
Each daughter has dealt with abuse, or just maternal neglect, in a different way. Julie (Romney Hamilton), the eldest, is broken by her experience, carrying the bruises left by her abusive husband, while Bernie (Linda Nicholls-Gidley), the second eldest, works hard at keeping some equanimity in the family. She hopes for a better future for her daughter, Ella (Danette Potgieter), who is attending university.
The light at the end of the tunnel for the women is provided by the stepdaughter, Tina (Sarah Jane Starr). After renaming herself ‘Briana’, she appears to have stepped away from the family’s psychological baggage, her speech suggesting that she has sought and benefitted from some therapy.
Director Kim Hardwick coaxes a wonderfully cohesive, believable rapport from her cast, who are uniformly excellent. They achieve well-rounded characterisation and the clarity of their Yorkshire-accented dialogue is particularly impressive.
Mia McCormick’s well-designed set exudes the claustrophobic, utilitarian style of a working-class family. While it manages to incorporate several rooms, the actors can move easily between the divisions, and the action can be clearly observed throughout.
While emotionally disturbing the production is, nevertheless, an excellent, thought-provoking slice of domestic drama, and well worth a viewing.
