Inter Alia
National Theatre, London
★★★★

IN researching the follow-up to her global phenomenon Prima Facie, writer and former lawyer Suzie Miller undertook extensive interviews with 10 women judges. She found that, as with most working women, they are also having to manage demanding domestic and family responsibilities alongside their careers.

Hence the double entendre title of her latest work: Inter Alia — among other things.

The opening scene presents Crown Court Judge and committed feminist, Jessica Parks, as a mic-mastering rock star, delivering a fascinating internal monologue which humanises the most officious of professions as she attempts to stay in control of a disturbing rape case which concludes with “a rare guilty verdict.”

It’s a flashing, fizzing intro which previews a remarkable central performance from Rosamund Pike. But the glamour is short-lived, giving way to the oscillating realities of disturbing cases, the rigours of motherhood, and maintaining an upper middle-class household.

Post-dinner party coitus with KC husband Michael (Jamie Glover) pivots suddenly as the mental remnants of the rape case intrude on the intimacy. It is one of many startling mood shifts which director Justin Martin uses to create a sweeping, breathless intensity throughout. This is cleverly punctuated by moments of genuine hilarity, including a riotous karaoke rendition of Shania Twain.

Miriam Buether’s transformative set helps to meld these shifts as we travel seamlessly from the courtroom to a slick London home, and into a shadowy, cavernous forest.

Periodic flashbacks of more innocent times with her son Harry — a hunched, often inscrutable Jasper Talbot — are counterposed with a mother-teenage son relationship, characterised by increasing distance as the “love yous” get progressively more uncomfortable. Miller’s ability to capture the sensitivities of this often overlooked dynamic really get under the skin.

The discomfort then skyrockets on the back of a shiver-inducing twist. As the family’s world crashes around them and recriminations fly, it is difficult not to be reminded of the much-hyped Netflix phenomenon, Adolescence. Yet despite the similarities, the depth of Miller’s text and focus on working mothers makes for a profoundly moving experience.

Runs until September 13. Box Office: 020 3989 5455, nationaltheatre.org.uk 
Also available to watch in cinemas across the UK from September 4 with NT Live