Lungs: "Breathe!"
A modern play for modern audiences particularly highlighting decisions to have a family, choosing or having the right partner, whilst the world around you falls apart. Or said in many ways, is just "f**ked!" With a look at green issues, the environment, political correctness be damned. It's a personal choice and despair of how to live in this world. To bring a child into it, or not. To adopt, or not. Sigh. Want a baby, wait we're just talking about it. It's just a "f**king conversation." She's thinking out loud, then wants his input. But doesn't really, but she does.
This couple had no names, no personal descriptions, they could be me, or you, facing the same challenges in a fast moving world. Bring a child into it, with so much carbon consumption, the baby would be the size of the Eiffel Tower. Do we need more people in the world, so adopt someone who is not loved. Fast moving, breath taking, leaving you breathless. Physical attraction, it's more than sex. Want to make babies. Their respective parents hate the respective partners. She's studying for a PhD. He's a struggling indie musician. Get a real job, they both should. He's not such a good musician in her opinion. Oh sorry, sorry, sorry. Full of apologies after the fact. She was thinking it, so she said it. So did he. He reads books, books she reads, highlights passages he doesn't understand even after he reads the entire paragraph.
More dialogue on the state of the world, flying in planes. They get together, make love some more. Anxiously await the pregnancy test results. It's positive, time moves on. She has cravings. He gets a corporate job. Encourages the company to have a more social outlook and agenda. He misses the meeting over lunch since they agreed to meet every Tuesday for lunch. She bought a picnic, doughnuts and an apple to balance out the doughnut. It's iced. Let's be daring, have sex in a corner of the park.
Sleepless nights, the baby...the baby. More despair, depression...business as usual. He goes to work. She sits alone at home. Time moves on. They grow apart. He meets a temp at work. Years later they meet again. Confess their feelings. He's grown a beard. He has a fiance. Her mother's passed, so has his father but he didn't tell her. Passions engulfs and enrages once more. They jump into bed together. Another baby...They don't marry. The baby grows, gets older. They marry. Years go past...fade to black
With a disco-y dance by the couple: Matt and Claire at the end. Let it all out...
Wow, catch your breath! Fast paced, exhilarating. A momentous production. Claire takes point in this and turns out has more to say than Matt does. Sometimes she did drown him out a little, but you know, she's Queen Elizabeth so it's all good! HA. A simple stage, composed of solar panels, no change of clothes, just dialogue and lines and emotion. It was different, it was topical. It was a great production. Matt was kind of his usual comedic self, not far removed from the Doctor, though I'll get berated for the comparison. [Though she was the one who became a doctor, technically! Ha.] But it works for his character since he is musician, he's meant to be carefree. Saying why can't musicians have kids. Her response; the successful ones can. Oof! Claire is meant to be the calming voice, erratic, intelligent but can cut like a knife with the harshest of words. But it works.
At stage door all Matt could ask is whether everyone enjoyed the play as he whizzed by signing autographs! At least he signed for everyone! As did Claire. I got him to sign my newspaper clipping cos I could not for the life of me find that Doctor Who sketch I did of him years ago! Never mind, it'll turn up. He was surprised "wow a paper" as everyone else got their programmes signed! Wonderful to meet him too finally! My Doctor Eleven! His energy was electrifying on stage and can see how he was mesmerizing as the Doctor.
A must see play for anyone who's interested in serious life issues interspersed with comedy and a lot we can all relate to! After all they are "good people."
Lungs written by Duncan Macmillian
At the Old Vic until 9 November
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