Written By: Evan Kohne
The underdog is our favorite role in performance. The underdog is the character who, against all odds, triumphs over adversity and wins the day. Who Cares, a play by LUNG and The Lowry, asks the hard question of “Who cares about the real underdogs in our community?”
Who Cares is the product of two years of interviews with young carers, youths who have a relative that they care for in the home. These carers, located in the impoverished city of Salford, face the daily battle of being both a child and an adult, but never quite able to inhabit either role. They are children, but their every minute is consumed with worry over their loved one in need. They are adults, but they are underestimated and disregarded by the grownups in their lives. The duality of existence strains every facet of their lives. The haunting words from the interviewed carers is brought beautifully to life, making their words all the more powerful and impactful.
In their performance, the cast made sure that they showed the intimate details of their situations, while also showing how each child in their position has many of the same struggles and obstacles. By having all three characters say certain lines in unison, the meaning is extended to all three, demonstrating how that certain feeling is felt by all on stage. This is further heightened by the interwoven style of their lines, cutting off or stepping into each other stories to continue their own, tying them together even though they could be told separately with little issue.
The stories of young carers needs to be told. The struggle of caring for a relative is one no child should have to undertake, certainly not without the support and love of others. But to just read their words is not enough. Their interviews, personified on stage by the three actors, give breath to each sentence. Each emotional build is visible on their faces, and one cannot help but become lost in the carer’s ordeal. To read is to miss the crucial components of the performance that give depth and character to the faceless transcripts. Only a performer can show the hollow expressions, aged by years of worry and strain, or the pain on the child’s face as every inch of ground gained towards recovery is rolled back and worsened.
This is the tragic beauty of Who Cares. Each performer embodies the multitude of emotions that come from a body in limbo, a child asked to play parent before they are even 5. The words, brought into this world by the interviewed children, trace the path that these carers navigate, struggling between bullies, teachers, vulnerable relatives, and ignorant friends.
If there is one thing to take from Who Cares, it is that we can perform roles in life that aren’t normal for us to enact, but that we should not be surprised when it changes who we are. The carers play adults, but it is clear from their words and the performer’s portrayal that they are still partially children. They yearn to see their families back together so the pain will stop. Their lives are contorted to help their relative, but this makes them lose out on the life they could have had. The longer they are forced to take on the roles of caretaker, the more separated from childhood they are. To expect them to be the same child as before, as many of the other adults in there lives seem to expect, is to ignore their changing life and the extraordinary circumstances that they exist in. Their performance of adulthood becomes real, while their childhood becomes the performance that they put on to hide from the world. If we are incapable of recognizing performance and seeing through it to the real person underneath, then who does care who any of us are?