This welcome transfer from the Almeida Theatre is a bold addition to the West End. Adapted by Eline Arbo from the work of Annie Ernaux in an English version by Stephanie Bain, it is an unapologetically highbrow piece that challenges its audience. And it’s, very, very, French. Ernaux is a public intellectual, the type you really only get across the channel. The inheritance of Proust, her work is steeped in politics and sociology.
The Years is also moving and surprisingly entertaining. The strategy of employing five performers – Deborah Findlay, Romola Garai, Gina McKee, Anji Mohindra and Harmony Rose-Bremner – is a genius move. They all tell Ernaux’s story together, while there’s also a sense that they are telling the story of many women… albeit clever French women born just after World War II. The themes of memory and mortality, as the play takes us through a life, are extremely powerful.
Ernaux’s writing is taut and direct, and both the adaptation and Arbo’s direction do it justice. Discussions of desire are frank, there is a lot of frustration and masturbation. A scene of a backstreet abortion became notorious during its first run and is, indeed, remarkable (Garai’s performance in this scene is, literally, stunning). But every moment of the play is considered. As each cast member travels through time, there are detailed touches and moments everyone can recognise.
The Years isn’t perfect. Taking on so many roles falls flat once or twice, although Findlay and McKee are great as small boys. And the humour is repetitive. Sensual moments are fantastic, but too often the sex gets giggles (would the French find it funny?). The music (Thijs van Vuure) and movement used in the piece are hit and miss, leading to both the strongest and weakest moments. Arguably, the biggest flaw comes with notions of class, more of a concern for Ernaux than you’d think from this show. Our heroine’s background is murky; we go big on the historic repression of women but not so much on how it relates to social status.
Balancing a “collective consciousness” with a particular experience is tricky. There are a lot of dates here. A potted history is all too common on stage and, even if delivered well, is seldom effective. Likewise, the device of family photographs, which structures the show, while leading to a fabulous finale as the performers’ faces are filmed live (and illustrates the strength of Juul Dekker’s set design) is a touch overplayed. Ernaux’s intellectual curiosity is ferocious, her focus intense and the roots of both are complex. Maybe the highest praise for the production is that it preserves so much of her brilliance.
Until 19 April 2025
Photos by Helen Murray
