the end of history - Royal Court Theatre

[londonpostie]

iirc, she told her daughter that neither of the economic students were given access. Family values!

[Nicholas]

Newbury is a surprisingly astute setting for a show as political as this. Something, like nothing, happens anywhere – and in the nowhere of Newbury, a LOT of something has happened. As this play implies, it’s a city of contradictions, especially political ones. What is it known for mostly? The Greenham women, and the terrible bypass. What is it known for now? A racecourse, and mebbe featuring in Star Wars. For years, its two MP candidates were David Rendel (one of the only Lib Dems to fight the coalition) and Richard Benyon (the wealthiest MP), extremes of political ideologies fighting it out – and suddenly FORMER TORY Benyon’s a rebel to boot. Jack Thorne went to the same school as Aaron Banks – the first state school to win the Polo Cup (I went to a couple of schools along – that’s why I know so much about this arse-end of nowhere – where one of my alumni was Henry Bloody Bolton). To illustrate the contradictions of family and political opposition, there are actually fewer better places. It’s a town of political contradictions, making it the perfect setting for a show like this.  Why do people contradict themselves?  Why do generations contradict family?  You won’t find anywhere richer to set this than, oddly and depressingly enough, Newbury.

The End of History is not really about any of these things. It’s about a family, and their sitcom-y bickering. There are even catchphrases!

Does this matter? Yes and no.

No, because The End of History is still an enjoyable fart about a funny old family. Who amongst us hasn’t been embarrassed by our parents, gone home as an adult but still felt like a child, found it hard to square differing familial politics but still loves their family? Made me laugh/made me cry.

But it’s called The End of History and is about political disagreement.  Jack Thorne has introduced such a rich seam of ideas about family and what it means to raise one and leave a legacy, that to handle it so half-heartedly is profoundly disappointing. In its setting – a strangely divided political town at a time when the world was politically uncertain but potentially bright – the strange situation we’re politically in can be diagnosed. In its title, a contentious political issue (permanent liberalism and even peace) can be challenged by the reality of everything post-Fukuyama. In these three children – the dull posh daughter-in-law, the sell-out daughter, the unfulfilled potential – a series of questions arise about apples falling far from trees, and how possible it is to unconditionally love people who grow into our enemies. Thorne has set up an open goal politically, set it in a seemingly dull but surprisingly astute town, and populated it with such charm. How did society change, as the millennium approached, the Cold War seemed over, Liberalism seemed complete, and after 1996 things could only get better?

Analysing the complex rollercoaster of British politics through this story of two liberal oldies, coming to terms with their post-historical world still unpleasantly turning, coming to terms with their children’s growing conservatism (both small-c and big-C), is a great state-of-the-nation play. Sadly, despite this great set-up and hints to this effect, this is a sitcom about children being stroppy. Analysing family life, and how political disagreement is squared with unconditional love, is a great intimate character study.  Sadly, whilst these stroppy children are themselves great fodder for this topic of disagreement, of where politics end and relationships begin (we often define ourselves by both our family and our beliefs, so when those are SO at odds, what do we sacrifice, and what pain does it cause us?), this is ignored, perhaps in case exploring it DOES tear the family apart. It’s strange and sad that Thorne – from the title downwards, from the family in the middle, from the setting upwards – paints such a curious and complex political picture, then populates it with the perfect family, then just gives up to affectionately noodle with these characters. This might sound odd, but I think Thorne likes these characters too much.

At the end, David Morrissey (who gets awkward dad-i-ness just right) reads a list of facts, without emotion or editorialising. There’s no better illustration of the play’s failure. Lesley Sharp having been such a presence – her performance a delightful whirlwind – I was saddened by her absence, and her death and life story did raise a lump in the throat. But I was reminded of Visitors, ending with a personal poem, thus daring to make us cry. Here, it’s a VERY strange conceit, to end a play with an unemotional list of historical moments a fictional person never lived. Presumably, this ties to the title – that whilst we’re living through ‘the end of history’, history keeps occurring, both politically and personally. Sadly, though – perhaps because Thorne simply likes these characters too much to editorialise – all we get is a list.

“The End of History”, Fukuyama’s ridiculous essay, implies that everything that happens after the 90s is post-history – politically, we’re perfect now! Is Thorne’s play named after it because, in setting a play amidst a politically divided family still fighting for freedoms and against corruption, he explores how the reality of post-history affects us all? Is he doing so because the threat of the bomb seems worlds away from this sleepy little town, yet just up the road from Greenham and in the range of Aldermaston, even dull school days have such a close proximity to history? Is it to contextualise this political family’s ordinariness? Or is it a fairly random miss? The family Thorne draws are too sitcom-y – even charming, certainly solipsistic – to make some grand statement on post-history; they focus on politics too much not to. There’s a great three-hour long play to be written exploring the contradictions of political disagreement with familial disagreement, the contradictions of living in the arse-end of nowhere yet being so politically somewhere, and how living in our perfect liberal post-historical world is, in fact, every bit as terrifying and unresolved as pre-Fukuyama both in city-wide protest and familial disagreements. This 100 minute play, sadly, is just a sitcom.

P.S.

Aug 11, 2019 20:30:35 GMT @xanderl said:

Oh yes, was going to say that the first act (running joke that the mother can't cook, surly teenage / early 20s children, grumpy husband) was very reminiscent of "Butterflies"

Butterflies has really held up. I think it’s because it takes as much time as a drama as a comedy – the use of not-Albinoni, for example, long stretches of serious contemplation. I hope that mention wasn’t disparaging, as it’s well worth a revisit.

P.P.S. Bugger it this has closed too hasn’t it? Oh bollocks.