And No More Shall We Part

There’s an usher offering tissues at the end of And No More Shall We Part and judging by the sobs from the audience, they’re much needed.

You’d have a hard heart indeed not to be moved by Tom Holloway’s quiet story of a couple coming to terms with the end of their time together. Pam is dying of a terminal illness whose name is never spoken. Unwilling to put herself through the inevitably painful and undignified end that awaits, she chooses a cocktail of lethal drugs instead. We meet her after she’s swallowed the pills, waiting, in bed, with her husband Don by her side.

The concept sounds mawkish and melodramatic, but actually it’s a subtle piece of writing. Though topical, it’s not, at heart, an examination of the right to die; rather, it’s a love story between two people who have weathered life together. Consequently, Pam’s decision is seen by Don as a betrayal, as though she’s deliberately leaving him.

Holloway shows, rather than tells of, the strength of feeling between the couple, his dialogue littered with half-sentences and unspoken sentiment, deftly handled by Dearbhla Molloy and Bill Paterson. While Pam is calm and considered, Don is disabled by emotion, unable to articulate his feelings. There are some charged moments—the silence of their last meal together, Pam’s one outburst of emotion after she takes the concoction—and their impact is enhanced by the restraint of the rest of the piece.

Only let down by the final scene, which verges on melodrama, this is a beautiful play.