AND NO MORE SHALL WE PART
Mention euthansia and I’ll start to yawn. I put the subject into the ‘Not interested until I need to be’ category and there it stays. And No More Shall We Part gives the matter powerful consideration, in a tense, emotional and developed fashion. This double-hander delicately journeys down a road that everybody hopes they will never have to travel and I don’t even care to contemplate.
Set on a revolve, we watch as the effect of the tablets takes its stride together with the pain and anguish of the period leading up to the precious final moments. Except the end doesn’t come in an instant as the couple expected, but rather over the course of a few hours. Imagine the endurance, anguish and self-struggle required to assist a partner in ending their life, only to find that having taken the pills, nothing much seems to happen. The excruciating wait that must be sustained, tormented by the question: What will happen next?
Pam is in her fifties suffering with a terminal illness, months to live and resigned to her fate. Dearbhla Molloy plays a sensitively refined Pam, with a matter of fact air that is spot-on. Pam has thought the matter through and is determined that her last days will be as peaceful as they can be. She doesn’t want to depend on anyone to help fulfil her basic functions. This resolve has forced her to be strongest of the couple. Having made the decision, she needs to convince husband Don to assist in a crime for which he has no appetite. Bill Paterson copes admirably with the demanding role. The torment shows on his face as he strives to bear the strain both in the lead-up and subsequently. The opening scene is particularly poignant, Paterson clearly demonstrating a husband in turmoil, expecting his wife to die within the next few minutes, battling to comprehend exactly what she is saying to him as his brain swirls with the grief and emotion that the situation dictates.
The play begins a short while after taking the pills and travels both backward and forward in time in a gritty and emotional portrayal of love, death and determination. Tom Holloway’s writing fuses joy with pain and despair with humour as the pair recall some of the happiness they have shared, refreshingly serving as relief from the intensity of other scenes. They recollect camping trips with the children in the tender time as she waits to die. The contrast between Pam’s quiescent calmness and Dan’s stress is striking. Their arguments are powerful; she resolute, he at the end of his tether, but love for her forces him to listen. There are moments of amusement, they both confess to having had affairs twenty years ago but neither care, their love is far stronger and they are happy together.
A shared last meal is very well executed; no need for words here, body language is allowed to say so much more. Hannah Clark’s design triumphs, although the story jolts back and forth in time, there is never any doubt to precisely where you are. Distractingly though, two of the creative team sit at computers placed on tables either side of the set. In full view of the audience, they play no part in the story but variously boil a kettle, make pots of tea when the script calls for it and hand assorted props to the cast as required. All a little awkward-looking, however the actors cope admirably with this needless handicap.
An easy to swallow, thought-provoking production.
- - - - - - - - - -
REVIEWED: 16/01/12
By Gareth Richardson @BargainTheatre
Runs until 11th Feb
- - - - - - - - - -
REVIEWED: 16/01/12
By Gareth Richardson @BargainTheatre
Runs until 11th Feb
Hampstead Theatre, NW3.
