Review: Viimeinen valssi
On the stage of the Helsinki City Theatre, seven charming elderly people ask:
“What do you do with all this time?”
The Last Waltz, written by Carin Mannerheim and directed by Raila Leppäkoski, tells the story of a nursing home where seven elderly people spend their last fifteen minutes. The musically spiced drama is familiar in its content, but the juicy acting sucks you on a journey into the hidden lives of elderly care.
It’s raining on the big stage of the Helsinki City Theatre.
An old man stumbles into the wet backyard of a grey house in nothing but a nightgown and rubber boots, lost, confused and looking for yesterday.
This is all too familiar news from the columns of newspapers: an old person who has lost his memory wandering around the village street in scanty clothes, often with serious consequences.
Screenwriter Carin Mannerheim puts seven elderly people suffering from poor memory, a failing body and a lack of relatives in the same nursing home.
The employees are admirably long-winded and dedicated to their work, and that is why they are also close to burnout in the midst of austerity measures.
The story brings to the stage the most topical text about the rights of the elderly as the last fifteen minutes of life come to an end.
Raila Leppäkoski’s direction makes use of the rotating stage in a cartoon-like way to transport the elderly to the stage and behind the scenes.
Most of the time, however, we sit in the dining room or roll on walkers, unhurriedly and repeating things.
Unbelievable Uotila
The skilful music-making of the charismatic Pirjo Bergström creates a relaxed atmosphere and a laid-back atmosphere in the performance, but also a melancholy longing.
Costume designer Maija Pekkanen’s look at the wardrobe of the elderly is realistic.
Antti Mattila’s clinical set design and Kari Leppälä’s institution-like lighting create a minimalist milieu in which space is given to the actors.
Carin Mannerheim’s text flows smoothly in the mouths of the excellent actors.
Leena Uotila’s demented Inkeri is stuttering with quilting steps, her mouth wide open in the corridors of the nursing home, looking for a home. And, those eyes, those eyes rounded with fear, make the viewer sensitive. An unbelievably fine interpretation.
No wonder, then, that while Ingri’s equally confused daughter (Jonna Järnefelt) sings from her mother’s eyes, there is a need for a handkerchief.
I wonder if the same feeling was shared by the gentleman sitting next to me who hid the nitro in his mouth.
Also captivating is Sara Paavolainen’s Harriet, who has improved her background a bit. Harriet is like a duckling in her golden shoes, with her back arched and her legs wide as she wobbles, but she is still so stylish. The actress has a appropriately emotional vibrato when she sings.
With a ring to bed
Wartime children are constantly hungry in their memories. This is also the case with Mauki, played by Ulla Tapaninen, who still has enough energy to slap “boys” on the buttocks.
Seppo Maijala gives a delightfully good-humoured role as Hannes, who is infatuated with plants and has “carpets a little bit together” in his head.
Riitta Havukainen’s rough and unadorned Ulla is a sturdy apparition with a fortune hanging around her neck. Jaana Nykänen’s and Ari Haapaniemi’s skilful camouflage as well.
Olli, interpreted by Antti Litja, scribbles his own obituary. The man, who gives the impression of indifference, screams out in pain in the loneliness of the night: he would like to be buried faster than the order dictated by nature.
Axel, played by Tom Wentzel, is a charmer down to the last stitch of a wool jacket, and the lucky Inkeri gets to enjoy it. Of course, commitment is also required from people in their twenties: the only way to get into the same bed is to get married.
Cuddly toy under your arm
The nurses are admirably empathetic in the midst of medicines, diapers, feedings and exercises, which is also a disappearing natural resource in some places.
Too often, however, the requests of the elderly in the play to stay with us are not fulfilled because they are in such a bad mood.
Elsa (Merja Larivaara), a nurse with her Savonian roots, crystallizes in her manifesto all the shortcomings of elderly care that we know in advance. It sounds cliché, but it is known to be the truth about modern Finland.
Sami Hokkanen’s Estonian Vallo trick is a gem of care work. Hokkanen’s speech flows smoothly and sounds so – Estonian.
For many, the last express journey of our life cycle is a lonely journey.
In the play, solace in loneliness and insecurity is brought by soft toys, memories and sometimes even a secret bottle, when the days may pass just wondering: “What are you doing with all this time?”
The last waltz captivates you from the first beat, and Leena Uotila and Tom Wentzel accompany it stylishly until the last beat.