A collective emotion only the best theatre can evoke
End (the title says it all) follows a couple grappling with a terminal diagnosis and the questions it raises, writes Katie Kelly.
It is the last of a trilogy. The first two parts being, unsurprisingly, Beginning and Middle. Each play however stands alone. Though the situation is specific, the strength of both writing and performance means this intimate story resonates as something universal. There was a palpable sense of collective emotion, the kind only the best theatre can evoke.
This might sound bleak, but the play is ultimately life-affirming: a portrait of long-term relationships, the necessary forgiveness and compromise that sustain them, and the beauty found within those negotiations. There is humour, tenderness, and a relatively explicit sex scene that proves breathtakingly poignant.
Clive Owen plays DJ Alfie, who in the early morning hours selects funeral tracks for himself. Music features strongly throughout—the play is also a nostalgic lament for the end of the 80s’ house scene. Alfie’s wife Julie, played by Saskia Reeves, begins her day on a rollercoaster of revelation as he shares his end-of-life wishes.
David Eldridge’s writing and the Owen-Reeves partnership hold the audience spellbound through an unrelenting single-act dance, equally tough and tender, beautiful and painful. With a great soundtrack, End offers a cathartic exploration of what it means to love and to lose.
National Theatre until January 17th.
The collective emotion only the best theatre can evoke
End (the title says it all) follows a couple grappling with a terminal diagnosis and the questions it raises. It’s the last of a trilogy. The first two parts being, unsurprisingly Beginning and Middle. Each play however stands alone. Though the situation is specific, the strength of both writing and performance means this intimate story resonates as something universal. There was a palpable sense of collective emotion, the kind only the best theatre can evoke, writes Katie Kelly.
This might sound bleak, but the play is ultimately life-affirming: a portrait of long-term relationships, the necessary forgiveness and compromise that sustain them, and the beauty found within those negotiations. There is humour, tenderness, and a relatively explicit sex scene that proves breathtakingly poignant.
Clive Owen plays DJ Alfie, who in the early morning hours selects funeral tracks for himself. Music features strongly throughout—the play is also a nostalgic lament for the end of the 80s’ house scene. Alfie’s wife Julie, played by Saskia Reeves, begins her day on a rollercoaster of revelation as he shares his end-of-life wishes.
David Eldridge’s writing and the Owen-Reeves partnership hold the audience spellbound through an unrelenting single-act dance, equally tough and tender, beautiful and painful. With a great soundtrack, End offers a cathartic exploration of what it means to love and to lose.
National Theatre until January 17th
Booking and full details: https://www.nationaltheatre.org.uk/productions/end/#booking-information
