Paul Smeaton, my son, is giving a year's voluntary work at SPUC HQ in London, after graduating recently at Campion College, Sydney.Last week he went to see Really Old, Like Forty Five, a play showing at the National Theatre on London's South Bank. Here's his review:
It was refreshing last week, in a world saturated with anti-life propaganda, to see a play with a pro-life message. Really Old, Like Forty Five, a play by Tamsin Oglesby, is currently showing at the National Theatre. It follows the story of a modern ageing British family, in particular three siblings (two sisters and a brother), confronted with the reality of their old age.Many thanks Paul. I applaud Ms Oglesby’s timely depiction of the abominable medical practices in this country. I draw attention to her brave opposition to Baroness Mary Warnock in a recent interview on BBC Radio 4.
Having presented the problem of old age the play shifts to the world of government scientists attempting to combat the problem of a growing elderly population. The scientists note that, with the breakdown of the family unit, there is simply nobody at home. Thus, there are too many old people on the streets causing a nuisance by their mere presence. The scientists’ suggested solutions to these problems provide the comic highlight of the play, with plans presented for a separate lane for the elderly on pavements to prevent congestion and pedestrian collisions. A common sense rebuttal of the proposals is offered by one scientist and has continuing pertinence as the play explores more serious realities: human beings have an instinctive way of responding to life’s problems – they take care of those around them.
The comedy becomes increasingly black as the scientists explore how to treat elderly patients. Two options are debated: one a pill, which displays brief mood enhancing effects before leading to hallucination and death. The second option is a placebo and regular palliative care – food and water. One scientist reports that studies suggest the second option has considerable benefits for patients’ health, but is markedly more expensive. When the pill is revealed to be little less than poison and medically useless, one of the scientists reassures the others not to worry, because the euthanasia society is happy to purchase the deadly pills!
The worlds of the family and the scientists collide as it becomes increasingly obvious that one sister is suffering from memory loss. At this point, the other sister suffers a physical breakdown.
When the two become permanently hospitalized, the world of modern-medicine is conveyed in horrifyingly bleak terms. The research, money and capital invested in the pill mean that the chief scientist, Monroe, refuses to accept the evidence that palliative care is a better option than a pill which fails to cure and induces death. Economics dictates medical ethics, as a concern for a lost business opportunity over-rides the concern for the loss of human life. However, Monroe’s self seeking approach is revealed as inherently flawed when he is himself pre-diagnosed with mental illness. Confronted with the fate of taking his own medicine Monroe opts for the placebo, while continuing to defend the widespread use of the pill. As Monroe is forced out of his role as medical director and into the life of a vulnerable patient, his colleagues are left with the responsibility of deciding what to do with their defective stock. Pragmatism takes possession of their principles. They reason that the pill does after all show positive short term effects and moreover one’s enjoyment of life is important. Thus they decide to give patients a choice. The pill, only moments before recognized as poison, is conveniently re-packaged as ‘the quality of life pill’.
The final scenes portray the terrifying conclusion to a life where family members refuse to care for each other and the elderly are left exposed to a medical profession passionate about experimentation and cavalier about care. In the absence of human charity, a robotic nurse is the sterile substitute for human love.
The concluding moments of the play depict selfish acts reaping sour rewards. Monroe mistakenly believes that he has switched his pills with another patients’ placebo. As he consumes his own poison, the message to the audience is loud and clear: in treating other members of the human family as expendable or as a burden, we are heaping condemnation upon ourselves.
The overriding message of the play is that ultimately human nature will out. Man’s capacity to think, diagnose, and cure his way out of a problem is displayed as catastrophically smaller than his inherent fragility and liability to suffer. The play’s real achievement is its terrifying exploration of the breakdown of family-life, medical ethics and a world where our inclinations to comfort and care for those suffering are superseded by our own selfish desires.
Tamsin Oglesby’s ambition is vast and consequently the play leaves many unanswered questions. She should be applauded, however, for strikingly conveying the message that all is not well. In a recent interview the playwright has said that:
“if a society is judged by how it treats its vulnerable then the way we look after old people is a pretty big indictment”.
This seems to be a pertinent play in troubling times.
Here's a picture of our family at Paul's graduation, with Cardinal Pell who celebrated the graduation Mass.
Comments on this blog? Email them to johnsmeaton@spuc.org.uk
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