During a pre-show interview at the National Theatre for my and Roy Williams’ first Death of England play — the first of a trilogy of state-of-the-nation plays — I was asked: “Why the title Death of England?”
I explained that I hoped the metaphor of rebirth, renewal and growth would be clear after seeing the play. Luckily, my questioner seemed satisfied with my answer — but only just. I went on to say that art, in particular theatre, can and perhaps should be a place to show our past and present, and to help us look at what the future could be.
With a Labour government now in power and the far-Right making waves here and around the world, the possibility of turbulent times ahead seems more and more likely.
The post-war dream of a European Union built to prevent Europeans from perpetrating ills against each other seems to be eroding. The very idea of borders is increasingly in direct opposition to our desire to continue along the path of globalisation. Once more, we find that we are dissatisfied with our choices and ill at ease with our sense of self.
Our closest ally, the US, may be about to support a man who cares very little for Britain — and, at the risk of stating the obvious, is hardly role-model material. So where does our moral line start and finish these days? And what political party can not only deliver strong government but also speak on our behalf in a world that seems filled with those who are prepared to do anything to get what they want, regardless of international law?
Binary views dictate: for or against, up or down, Right or Left. A lack of nuance in an argument is heralded as the way forward. We are training ourselves not to look at all sides, as if there wasn’t a spectrum of ideas to engage with.
We value feelings over facts, making way for the manipulation of facts to suit our feelings.
What a curious, fascinating species we are. And it appears it was ever thus. You only need to hear Shakespeare’s Macbeth to appreciate that we are all still learning, still trying to grapple with our desire for power and our need for humanity: “But in these cases we still have judgement here, that we but teach bloody instructions, which being taught return to plague the inventor”. And as always, our electoral systems seem to bring to the surface our disquiet and dysfunction.
I hope the three Death of England plays, updated since their first performances at the National Theatre, will allow us to reflect on who we are as a nation today in the wake of so much dissatisfaction. But with a few laughs too as, for sure, we British can find a joke in anything.
I am so proud to say that all three plays were commissioned by the National Theatre and have played separately there over the past three and a half years — two in the Dorfman and one in the Olivier. All three courted a fair amount of controversy around their timing, because of both their subject matter and the fight we had to keep the latter two on in the face of Covid.
The pandemic hampered the success of Death of England: Michael. We had to open and close the press night of Death of England: Delroy and were forced to recast Death of England: Closing Time in previews.
At last — and I touch wood as I say this — we are able to bring them to you as was originally intended and without causing me heart failure — though putting up all three together, at the same time, may make some people think I’m asking for it.
I can never resist a challenge, it seems. In this case, maybe because this event has been so championed by producers Bill Kenwright Ltd with Nica Burns and by the National Theatre, and because, ultimately, it is an unparalleled opportunity finally to present all three plays in repertoire.
Theatre is the perfect medium to tackle these massive issues facing our nation today — it deals with complex social issues and tells them through people’s stories with humanity.
This is how we can connect, this is how we can understand and this is how we can learn. In 2024, we need theatre more than ever.
