Royal Court Theatre
05 May 2012
Love is a mixed up thing by the end of this.
A selfish thing that drinks too much
and prides itself on always being right,
always honest but never tactful,
never caring. Careless, you might think.
To begin with, love is all about appearances.
Youthful and fresh. High as a kite
and free to sleep all night in the park beneath a tree.
Change is in the air they say, and they believe it.
The Beatles are on TV. You can do anything.
Then you notice the cracks, gaping like canyons.
The soundtrack rocks, but doesn’t fill the craters
left by too much being said,
not enough love going round,
too much self-love, self-pity, self-deception.
By the end, I really choked on it.
Fine words, deceits
and small unkindnesses –
sharp as a knife and almost funny,
if they were not so like real life.
There is a lot on age
and really it is beautifully played
from groovy ’60s kids to hipster retirees
floating about with a subtle limp, bad hip,
playing at gardening in yoga white.
There is a lot of harsh judgement cast,
but no real question marks
or glimpses of a rosy hope around the corner.
The jokes are sharp, and there at last
there is no comfort, no last word of hope.
Love, Love, Love plays until 9 June at the Royal Court Theatre, London