Mother's Day, review: a powerful weapon against the politics of hatred

Daniel Mays and Anna Maxwell Martin as Colin and Wendy Parry - BBC
Daniel Mays and Anna Maxwell Martin as Colin and Wendy Parry - BBC

There aren’t many dramas that pack as solid an emotional punch as Mother’s Day (BBC Two). Even fewer leave you appreciating so keenly the power of finding lasting good in the most tragic human experiences.

Mother’s Day drew two powerful stories out of the same event: the bomb attack on Warrington by the IRA in March 1993, in which two children were murdered – three-year-old Johnathan Ball and 13-year-old Tim Parry. The shocking fragmentary opening seconds captured the indiscriminate deadliness of the attack; the scenes that followed made manifest, through the eyes of parents Colin (Daniel Mays) and Wendy Parry (Anna Maxwell Martin), the horror  of realising their beloved son was one of the victims – and their struggle to deal with the grief that followed.

On the other side of the Irish Sea another mother was so outraged by the killings that she felt compelled  to do something about it. By calling  for a meeting in Dublin to protest against the deaths, Susan McHugh (Vicky McClure) ignited what eventually grew into the most effective grassroots peace campaign in the 30-year history of the Troubles.

Vicky McClure as Susan McHugh - Credit: Steffan Hill
Vicky McClure as Susan McHugh Credit: Steffan Hill

From these two intensely emotional experiences, Bafta-winning writer Nick Leather and director Fergus O’Brien fashioned a story that was both heartbreakingly sad and winningly uplifting. Maxwell Martin and Mays gave performances of exceptional depth and power: she a mother struggling to grieve privately for her lost child; he a father convinced some public good must be mined from so senseless a loss. McClure was hugely sympathetic, too, as an extraordinary “ordinary” woman determined to make her voice heard.    

Mother’s Day acknowledged but never get bogged down in Northern Ireland’s complex sectarianism, sticking to its message of transcending the politics of hatred. There can be no doubt that in giving a voice to the silent majority in Ireland disgusted  by the blood-letting of the Troubles, McHugh and the Parrys exposed  just how little support the men of violence had in the communities  they claimed to represent. They  added a vital public impetus to negotiations that led the IRA to  declare a ceasefire months later –  a first step towards lasting peace.

This was a fine, emotionally absorbing drama that succeeded as a commemoration of individual courage and a wider affirmation of just how much can be achieved when people stand up together against violence and terrorism.