In the realm of theatre, where stories often mirror the complexities of human existence, Alexander Zeldin's latest work emerges as a powerful commentary on the plight of the elderly in care homes. This play, set in a seemingly confined dementia ward, is not merely a depiction of old age but a scathing critique of a system that fosters loneliness in the final chapter of life. The question, as posed by surgeon-writer Atul Gawande in his book Being Mortal, resonates deeply: why should autonomy be surrendered as we age and become sicker? Zeldin's exploration of this theme through the eyes of Joan (Linda Bassett) is both poignant and thought-provoking.
The opening scene sets the tone, capturing Joan's disorientation and the emotional turmoil of her daughter Lynn (Rosie Cavaliero). The audience is immediately drawn into the raw emotions of the family, with the sons' grief and anger burning brightly. But it is the residents of the care home who truly steal the show, each portrayed with a depth that is both heart-wrenching and darkly funny. From the silent Agnes (Ann Mitchell) with her memories of a husband and an otter colony, to the curmudgeonly Paula (Diana Payan) who was once a midwife, each character adds a layer of complexity to the narrative.
What makes this play particularly compelling is its ability to balance humor and tragedy. The audience is initially amused by the characters' confused conversations, but this laughter quickly turns into a more somber reflection. The play's tone shifts from accidental humor to a searing, savage critique of the care system. A transformative moment occurs when Joan and John (Richard Durden), a fellow resident with Lear-like qualities, share a hug that transcends loneliness and becomes a symbol of love and understanding.
The set design by Rosanna Vize is a crucial element in this narrative. It evokes the dank atmosphere of an institutionalised space, where the love of strangers becomes a lifeline for Joan. The scene where Hazel (Llewella Gideon) gives Joan a bed bath is particularly poignant, suggesting that professional care can be a form of love. Joan's kiss to Hazel as she is washed is a powerful moment, filled with unspoken emotions and a sense of profound connection.
The play's cumulative effect is a powerful call for a reevaluation of how we care for our elderly. It makes one feel that there must be another way, a more compassionate and human-centric approach. The statement by Simone (Hayley Carmichael), a rebel-upstart resident, resonates deeply: 'Someone has to be responsible for what’s happening to us.' This statement hangs heavy with shock, disbelief, and a sense of sad outrage, leaving the audience with a profound sense of responsibility and a call to action.
In my opinion, Zeldin's play is a masterpiece of theatre that goes beyond mere entertainment. It is a searing commentary on the state of care for the elderly, a call to action for a more compassionate and human-centric approach. It is a reminder that the final chapter of life should not be a lonely, institutionalised existence, but a time of love, understanding, and dignity. This play is a must-see for anyone interested in the human condition, and a powerful reminder of the importance of empathy and compassion in our society.
