Review: CARE - Young Vic (22/05/26)

Harrowing yet heartfelt new play sheds uncomfortable light on British care system

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Nobody is safe from the looming presence of father time, and if you are privileged enough to have a long, healthy life, the sad reality of getting stuck in the care system can sap away the last remaining remnants of life that may be present behind your tired eyes. As dour and depressing a sentiment as that may be, that is very much the reality in which millions in this country often find themselves, in the midst of their twilight years, discarded by their families, and at the mercy of whichever nursing home ends up being where they spend their final days. Yet in the midst of what is often a period of severe isolation and loneliness, exacerbated by extreme staff shortages, there are still beautiful, tender moments of personal connection to be had.

It's really this duality, between the loss of one's sense of self, and the flashes of joy to be found in everyday moments, where the primary focus of this new work by Alexander Zeldin falls, as he explores the various ins and outs of the British care system. We follow staunchly independent grandmother Joan, who is placed into a nursing home following a bad fall, and suddenly finds herself at the mercy of both the system that swallows her up, and the dementia that saps away at her identity. This understandably proves a difficult adjustment for all involved, including her daughter, herself a single mother, and her two young grandchildren, especially angst-ridden teenager Laurie.

Llewella Gideon, Linda Bassett and Aoife Gaston (credit: Johan Persson)

Zeldin has purposely written "Care" to be as un-dramatic as possible, instead utilising observational hyper-realism, as well as the intimacy of the text, the setting and the space, to really drive home the notion that, whilst this is a piece of fiction on the surface, it is so profoundly steeped in real life experiences and hardships. What is executed particularly effectively is the idea of the gradual deterioration of one's mental state, and how a resident can go from being the most zesty and vivacious individual, to barely being able to acknowledge others in the room, seemingly within months or even weeks, as is often the case with the cruel mistress that is dementia.

As we enter the auditorium, we are already fully immersed in the atmosphere, Rosanna Vize's set is hauntingly real, from the cold, sterile seating areas, even as far as incorporating the clinical waft of odour that often comes with the setting, which is an impressive detail that enhances our sensory experience. The cherry on top of how well this prepares us for what's to come is the presence of Taru Devani as one of the residents, sat stationary in her wheelchair, unflinching, masterfully displaying her sense of stillness and disengagement from her surroundings, as a harrowing reminder of how easy it is to lose yourself within the system.

Whilst much of the action does focus around the crisis and staff shortages surrounding social care, highlighting just how hard its workers strive, often in vain, to make life as pleasant as possible for those in their care, it also provides us with brief moments of poignancy. These come both within the nursing home itself, as residents seek to maintain any semblance of human connection, as well as during scenes that feature Joan's bickering grandsons, and their mother who is spread about as thin as one can get, trying to hold everything together as she deals with the weight of her mother's declining health. How Zeldin handles themes of illness, loss, grief, and familial discourse is achingly moving, never skimps on details, and always remains respectful of the real life experiences on which the play takes its inspiration.

It is a mammoth task for any actor to play a role that has such consistent stage time, as the character of Joan spends the vast majority of the play's two hour runtime directly involved with the action, and Linda Bassett gives a tour de force performance, during which she expertly presents every iota of emotion, and grades the progression of Joan's declining health to a tee. From her initial insistence that she'll only be there for a few days, to a latter scene when she has to be as still as possible as a nurse washes her from her bed, and a particularly chilling moment during which we hear her rasping final breaths, she never misses a beat from start to finish.

Other impressive performances include veteran of the stage Diana Payan, playing long-term resident Paula, who perfectly encapsulates the ill effects of the system on one's wellbeing, as well as Richard Durden as forward but gentle and well-meaning widower John, who charms us with his tenderness, openness and deep vulnerability. Counteracting this is Hayley Carmichael, bringing marvellously chaotic energy to the comparatively younger Simone, her character led by remnants of her past as a sex worker, regularly creating havoc for other residents and staff alike. Llewella Gideon and Aoife Gaston are the mentor-student pair tasked with keeping those in their care in check, with Gideon most notable for her astoundingly authentic depiction of an NHS social care worker, balancing trying to attend to everyone with the sheer exhaustion that comes with long, unsociable hours.

Through his focus on making this as true to life as possible, through both the content and its execution, Zeldin has laid bare the often ugly, uncomfortable truth of UK social care with this astonishingly accurate, at times cringe-inducing piece, that holds a mirror up to the system, warts and all, in the most remarkable fashion. It's intelligent, builds exquisitely, and to experience it truly hurts you to your core, which is just about the best compliment this play can receive.

★★★★★ (5*)

"Care" runs at the Young Vic until the 11th of July (tickets)