Not Your Superwoman
Content warnings: Themes of generational trauma, strong language, alcohol and drug use, discussion of grief, death, dementia, miscarriage and abortion.
Memory and childhood can often be evoked by sights, smells, tastes and music. Even years later, a familiar smell will bring me right back to when I was eight years old. What we thought was a small issue or a confusion when we were ten years old was something for grown-ups to understand. When we are older, we can gain a lot of clarity. It’s by being a grown-up that we can establish distance and truly understand the lengths and struggles our parents and grandparents might have had before us. If we try. But the question is, do you face your pain handed down through grandparents and beyond, break the cycle? Or is the pain just too much? Can it even be broken? Even with all the therapy, the self-help books. Are we just like our mothers behind it all?
That is what Not Your Superwoman tries to unpack. The struggles and unseen sacrifices Black women and their children often have to bear are handed down from grandmothers, mothers and daughters. Co-created by writer Emma Dennis-Edwards and director Lynette Linton, this is a punchy and impactful two-hander running at 85 minutes at the Bush Theatre until 1 Nov.
After the death of Elaine, Joyce, played by Golda Rosheuvel (Bridgerton), plans with her daughter Erica, played by Letitia Wright (Black Panther), to fly to their homeland of Guyana to spread her ashes. It will be the first time in a long time they will spend this amount of concentrated time together. Erica is working as a freelancer, excited to reconnect with her culture and to visit all the places her grandmother told her about. She has been working through her generational trauma and is keen to showcase her learnings. Her mother, Joyce, is a lawyer with two marriages behind her. She is more excited to drink in business class. As we arrive in Guyana and learn about the places that impacted their grandmother, we learn more about both women and their own unique relationships to Elaine. Each woman in turn acts as Elaine, retelling us key moments as we jump around the timelines of all three women. It is a surreal look at the generational bonds of mother and daughter.
When we first meet the two in the airport, we instantly know these women. Funny, relatable and able to bounce off one another’s energy well, fantastic performances from both women are brought forward by Lynette Linton. Their relationship with one another is loving, gentle and fierce. Everything a mother and daughter could be. As individuals, both actors give wonderful performances, but together they are unstoppable. A meta moment is when Erica talks about Sinners, directed by Ryan Coogler. This, played by Wright, known for her role in Coogler’s Black Panther, adds an additional layer of funny. Meanwhile, Rosheuvel and her technique for getting special treatment in hotels reminded me a bit too much of my own mother. Getting the chance to see these two powerhouses perform together should be enough to get a ticket. The privilege of seeing them in such a tender and exposing show is just a cherry on top.
Both Rosheuvel and Wright’s ability to switch to becoming Elaine was impressive, especially in the quick-fire moments when time became a bit scrambled. Linton’s guidance meant that we, the audience, kept on the narrow path. The script is punchy and instantly funny. While the pace may have wavered in the third act, everything was clean and efficient in telling what could have otherwise been a very messy story. This was only lifted by the set by Alex Berry, as well as projections by Gino Ricardo Green. When arriving in the theatre, we see this condensed cube: some simple chairs and netting where we see projections of both Joyce and Erica looking at us. Throughout, projections are used to show us a beautiful waterfall, helping to depict the panic attacks that Erica faces and her coping strategies. It was a complete treat and only highlighted the important work that is being performed. Lighting by Jai Morjaria and sound by Max Pappenheim also supported Berry’s set design. If anything, it really elevated it when showing us everywhere from childhood memories to street markets and more, especially when taking off in the plane and arriving in Guyana. The music definitely had the audience moving and grooving along.
Emma Dennis-Edwards’s script touches on everything from motherhood, relationships with men, childcare and more in many of its subplots. A major one is the question mark around Erica’s relationship and Joyce’s depression and possible autoimmune disease. While this script explores a lot in such a short space of time, some of these points are dropped or perhaps are just meant to linger, to be pondered in the bar of the Bush theatre after the show.
Wounds left by our grandmothers and their grandmothers can’t be solved within 85 minutes. But we can explore them, understand one another a bit more and try to face the collateral damage together. Which is to say, not everything in Not Your Superwoman resolves. But was it really possible? These are just women, after all. They are not your superwoman. As much as they have been told they should be, they are just women. Which is the entire point. We want to hug them, laugh with them and hold them. You may want to ring your mother after this show.
This show was reviewed on the 12th September 2025 at The Bush Theatre, London where it runs until the 1st November 2025. Tickets available here: https://www.bushtheatre.co.uk/event/not-your-superwoman/
Review written by Mary Condon O'Connor
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Photo credit: Richard Lakos
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