Theatre
Mela Hawn Xi Manikomju!?
Spazju Kreattiv, Valletta
With an ever-ageing population and thinly-stretched resources, our country, like many others in the developed world, is seeing a spike in older people who do not have the physical or mental strength to function alone and look after themselves.
In spite of numerous nursing homes and the increase in home help, what old age brings with it is a frightening reality of abandonment and a loss of autonomy for many who do not have the financial means or, worse still, the familial ties of a strong and loving network of relatives to provide not just care but also companionship.
Alfred Buttigieg’s new play, Mela Hawn Xi Manikomju!? deals with precisely this problem as well as the related mental health problems such as dementia and Alzheimer’s disease which accompany the depression which stems from loneliness.
Let’s pretend I too have dementia and call the venue St James Cavalier – for old times’ sake. Running this weekend, this play is a short but insightful look at the situation that thousands of elderly people experience daily.
Tyrone Grima’s solid direction of a seasoned cast includes four veteran actresses playing the roles of the old women on the ladies’ hospital ward as senility creeps over them and robs them of their lives and their dignity. Interestingly, Buttigieg’s writing reflects the insidious manner in which dementia sets in by masking it outwardly in a swathe of humour from little old ladies behaving badly – in a very eccentric and unladylike manner.
Nurse Andrea (Roberta Briffa) and Nursing Aide Jeremy (Andre Mangion) have to contend with four troublesome old women who are all hospitalised for various reasons, some not necessarily medical.
The two actors give very natural performances as an overworked night shift nurse and a much more laid-back young man whom the old women are rather partial to. They provide the external human interaction in the old women’s lives as the ladies bicker among themselves, pick petty fights and rebel by disobeying the nurse’s orders – from refusal of medication to wandering off and repeatedly criticising Andrea and Jeremy for being lazy and doing shoddy work.
The play, while incredibly funny, is also particularly poignant and thankfully reminds us that in the bleak prospects of the degeneration of the human mind, collective humour is the best coping mechanism
The women in question are a hilarious bunch of old ladies with varying degrees of memory loss and senility, which make for some very funny situations, with one of them, Lina (Leigh Anne Abela), being a rough ħamalla who swears like a sailor and shocks the others in turn.
Gerit (Theresa Gauci) has complications from a badly set leg from her care home, and is loud, forgetful and complains too much, leaving the others incapable of proper rest. Virtually abandoned by her uninvolved son, Mena (Ninette Micallef) is so far gone in memory loss that she daily tells the nurse that her son is going to pick her up and take her home, worrying that she’ll be late, in spite of his constant no-shows.
By contrast, Maurice (Charles Sammut) visits his mother Ġużeppa (Lilian Pace Vassallo) regularly and has to deal with the unwanted attentions of the other women who probably secretly envy the woman with a constant visitor.
Ms Abela’s unruly behaviour, foul language and bad manners are hilarious in the context of a bed-ridden old woman – a role she interprets with gusto; while the louder, more confused character played by Gauci portrays the funnier aspect of dementia sufferers – an inability to filter anything – and does so with great attention to their mannerisms.
The two remaining women give their roles a much-needed sense of pathos and remind the audience that, in spite of the incredibly funny situations which old age can lead you to, the reality is that a loss of memory brings with it the beginning of a loss of self and autonomy.
Micallef’s sensitively portrayed character is funny in her forgetfulness but pathetically so and initiates pity in the audience because of her sad predicament – in a sense, her dementia has been kind to her because she is oblivious of her pitiful situation as a ward of the state. While the insidious manipulation of a loved one is clearly seen as Pace Vassallo’s timid character – a carefully planned role – admits to a growingly indignant Maurice that she has been legally signed out of house and home as well as left financially destitute by her live-in daughter.
Sammut is equally credible in his role as a preoccupied son and effectively rounds off a sensation of emotions which, together with those portrayed by the ladies, are a very truthful, no-frills representation of the daily situation faced by many carers and relatives of dementia-sufferers.
The play itself, while incredibly funny, is also particularly poignant and thankfully reminds us that in the bleak prospects of the degeneration of the human mind, collective humour, whether crude, slapstick or situational, is the best coping mechanism.
Mela Hawn Xi Manikomju?! is a great play to watch since it entertains and instructs in equal measure. It marries social awareness with humour, proving of course, that ultimately laughter is indeed the best medicine.