EldridgeS ‘End’ at the national Theater: A Bittersweet Farewell to Coupledom and an Era
A poignant exploration of love, mortality, and the enduring weight of the past, David Eldridge’s “End” marks the culmination of a trilogy and a notable transition at the National Theatre. The play, running at the Dorfman Theatre in London until January 17th, delivers a grown-up, bittersweet reflection on the inevitable conclusion that awaits us all: death.
The trilogy – encompassing “Beginning” and “middle” – has charted the course of relationships, from the initial spark of romance to the settled sag of long-term commitment. “End” confronts a more unexpected conclusion, grappling with the complexities of facing a terminal diagnosis and its impact on a lifetime of togetherness.
The narrative centers on Alfie,a 50s DJ who rose to prominence during the acid house scene,and Julie,a successful novelist. The play opens with the stark announcement of Alfie’s cancer, immediately establishing a framework for examining what happens when a shared life confronts mortality. Both characters hail from Essex, though they’ve since relocated to north London, a detail that underscores the enduring power of one’s origins. As Julie observes, “Where you’re from never leaves you.”
Alfie’s desire to be buried in Brentwood,close to his family,clashes with Julie’s plea for him to continue chemotherapy,motivated by concern for their living family. This central conflict fuels the play’s dynamic, unfolding in real-time conversations within a kitchen – a familiar setting from Eldridge’s previous works – over a perpetually untouched pot of tea.The dialog navigates the complexities of their relationship,touching on their daughter,past experiences,and the daunting reality of Alfie’s diagnosis,oscillating between acceptance and avoidance.
For a significant portion of the play, the focus remains firmly on Alfie’s viewpoint. He meticulously plans his funeral playlist, attempting to exert control in the face of his diminishing agency. However, underlying tensions and past hurts, including the pain of infidelity, eventually surface, injecting moments of raw intensity into the narrative.
Clive Owen and Saskia Reeves deliver searing performances, with Owen especially compelling as he portrays Alfie’s physical and emotional pain through subtle movements and expressions. Reeves embodies Julie’s strength and desperation, though the dynamic between the two actors occasionally feels performative rather than organically lived-in. There’s a formality, a distance, that occasionally disrupts the sense of decades-long intimacy, though it does dissipate at times.
The play skillfully blends moments of shyness, a static sex scene, accusations, and quiet devastation, guided by director Rachel O’Riordan. She maintains a compelling pace while allowing for crucial pauses and silences. Alfie’s reflections on the joy he found in DJing serve as a justification for a life well-lived, with snippets of music and dance evoking the hedonistic energy of the house scene. The script contains lines that powerfully capture the tragedy of mortality, such as Alfie’s simple yet profound statement, “I feel so young.”
Pro tip: The play occasionally veers into monologue, with discussions on life and death feeling somewhat detached from the domestic realism of the kitchen set – complete with vinyl records and an acid house smiley face clock. While the intention may be to highlight the presence of profundity in everyday life, the effect can feel somewhat stiff. Similarly, the conversation surrounding Julie’s desire to write about Alfie’s death feels calculated, as if the playwright is speaking through her.
Despite these moments, the play remains deeply engaging, offering a tender, warm, and darkly humorous exploration of love in the face of death. It leaves audiences pondering the question of a “happy ending,” suggesting that even in the midst of profound loss, there can be a measure of grace and acceptance.
