End review: Clive Owen & Saskia Reeves bring haunting depth to Eldridge’s trilogy finale
A Trilogy’s Echo: Clive Owen and Saskia Reeves Find Resonance in Eldridge’s ‘End’
The culmination of David Eldridge’s decade-spanning theatrical exploration of modern relationships, End, currently playing at the National Theatre in London, isn’t simply a poignant final act. It’s a reverberation – a subtle tremor felt most keenly by those who’ve experienced the preceding plays, Beginning (2017) and Middle (2022). But even as a standalone piece, End, directed with tender precision by Rachel O’Riordan, offers a deeply affecting meditation on love, loss, and the quiet dignity of facing mortality. What elevates this production beyond its already considerable emotional weight is the reunion of Clive Owen and Saskia Reeves, a pairing that unlocks a rich vein of shared history for audiences familiar with their earlier, and considerably more scandalous, work.
Ghosts of Past Roles: Owen and Reeves Reunited
More than thirty years after their breakout roles in Stephen Poliakoff’s controversial 1991 film, Close My Eyes, Owen and Reeves share the stage again, this time as Alfie and Julie, a couple confronting Alfie’s cancer diagnosis. The impact of their previous collaboration isn’t merely nostalgic; it’s integral to the play’s emotional landscape. Close My Eyes, inspired by Poliakoff’s 1975 play Hitting Town, ignited a tabloid firestorm with its depiction of an incestuous affair. The film’s unsettling tone, a sense of impending doom and societal decay, finds a surprising echo in Eldridge’s work. As critic Michael Billington notes in his review for The Guardian, the memory of that earlier film “complements the play enormously.”
Poliakoff’s film wasn’t solely about taboo; it was a snapshot of a Britain grappling with anxieties surrounding the AIDS crisis, the rise of Thatcherite individualism, and a growing sense of societal fragmentation. The film’s characters sought refuge in illicit passion, a retreat from a world perceived as corrupt and chaotic. Similarly, Eldridge anchors End in a specific moment of British political upheaval – the week before the 2016 Brexit vote. While the referendum is only briefly mentioned, it serves as a subtle backdrop to Alfie and Julie’s personal crisis, a reminder of the larger uncertainties swirling around them. Alfie’s more immediate concern, however, is the impending relocation of his beloved West Ham United football club from their historic Upton Park stadium, a loss that mirrors his own sense of displacement.
The Language of Touch: Intimacy and Vulnerability on Stage
Eldridge’s trilogy is notable for its unflinching portrayal of intimacy, and End is no exception. The play features a rare and remarkably authentic sex scene, expertly choreographed with intimacy direction by Bethan Clark. Unlike the explicit nudity of Close My Eyes – described by Stephen Holden of the New York Times as almost “embarrassing to be caught watching” – the scene in End is understated, almost mundane. Alfie and Julie engage in quick, clothed intimacy on the sofa, a gesture that speaks volumes about their decades-long connection. Owen and Reeves imbue the moment with a palpable sense of vulnerability, tenderness, and a quiet desperation to reconnect before time runs out.
This nuanced physicality is further amplified by the actors’ shared history. As critic Susannah Clapp observes, their previous work allows them to convey a wealth of unspoken emotion, a comfortable ease that is simultaneously reassuring and heartbreaking. Alfie’s illness is physically manifested in his reliance on a crutch, his movements awkward and labored. Yet, even in his weakened state, he retains a spark of his former self, a “cocksure, ‘baby-faced’ old self” as he describes it, evoking memories of Owen’s earlier roles, including his breakout performance as Chancer in Croupier. The contrast between these past personas and his present vulnerability is striking, adding layers of complexity to the character.
The Power of Shared History and the Future of Theatre
The reunion of Owen and Reeves isn’t simply a casting coup; it’s a testament to the power of actors to bring their entire selves – their past roles, their personal experiences – to a performance. Director Jamie Lloyd has frequently explored this dynamic in his work, though with varying degrees of success. In contrast, End utilizes the actors’ history with a subtlety and grace that enhances the play’s emotional resonance. The play also subtly echoes themes explored in other iconic pairings, such as Al Pacino and Michelle Pfeiffer in Frankie and Johnny, highlighting the enduring appeal of stories about long-term relationships navigating life’s challenges.
The success of Eldridge’s trilogy underscores a growing appetite for emotionally complex and character-driven narratives on stage. According to a Statista report, total attendance at US theater performances reached 14.6 million in 2023, demonstrating a continued, and growing, interest in live performance. The idea of staging all three plays – Beginning, Middle, and End – in repertory, as suggested by The Guardian’s reviewer, is a compelling one. Such a production would allow audiences to fully appreciate the intricate connections between the couples and the overarching themes of love, loss, and the passage of time. End, with its masterful performances and poignant exploration of mortality, is a fitting conclusion to a remarkable theatrical achievement, and a powerful reminder of the enduring power of storytelling to illuminate the human condition.