Standing At The Sky’s Edge - Crucible/NT/Gillian Lynne

{Spoiler - click to view}
Joy and Poppy both move into the flat to "escape", though from very different places; Harry and Jimmy are faced with the decision between their pride and supporting their families, though in the end only one makes the sacrifice; Rose and Joy both leave the flat as single mothers, though their husbands' deaths had different causes. It's evocative stuff, and never over-sentimental.

The characters were all likeable and sympathetic (except Nikki - f*ck Nikki, more on her later) and well performed. I especially liked Samuel Jordan and Elizabeth Ayodele together. Initially I wasn't really sure what the "point" of the modern plotline was; it felt more directionless than the other two. It wasn't until the party scene near the end, when the estate agent tore into Nikki for accusing Poppy of gentrification or something (again - f*ck Nikki) that it fell into place for me: no one community "owns" a building. What once served as a source of middle-class financial stability for Harry and then served as a safe haven for Joy and her immigrant family is now serving as a means of escape for a depressed London professional, and that's okay! Areas change; it's neither good nor bad, it's just life.

Which is why the conclusion to Poppy's story felt so bizarre. Nikki was an awful, emotionally manipulative POS, and it was reassuring that the framing gave her zero leeway in her bullsh*t. When Poppy turned around in the final scene and said "f*ck it", I was like 90% sure she was about to kiss the estate agent, which would've been a great ending; a new resident demonstrating her readiness to finally move on with her life by starting a relationship with an ex-resident. It's like poetry, it rhymes!

Instead, Nikki gets her girlfriend back, despite making it abundantly clear that she's still essentially the same person who lost said girlfriend. It turns a story about change and moving on into a story about... not postponing your wedding? I'm all for redemption stories, even with cheaters - but Jesus, this would be like if Hamilton walked up to Eliza in "It's Quiet Uptown" and sang "Sorry, I guess, but the way you kept asking me to take a break was super triggering. Also, I'm insecure about our class difference, so really, there's fault on both sides. Take me back?"

Thankfully, one of the advantages of the "concurrent narratives" structure is that we have two really great conclusions to dilute the bad taste of the third. The final scene between Joy and Jimmy's ghost was f*cking heartbreaking. I'm not really sure how I feel about the graffitied message overall, but its usage there was beautiful.
Joy and Poppy both move into the flat to "escape", though from very different places; Harry and Jimmy are faced with the decision between their pride and supporting their families, though in the end only one makes the sacrifice; Rose and Joy both leave the flat as single mothers, though their husbands' deaths had different causes. It's evocative stuff, and never over-sentimental.

The characters were all likeable and sympathetic (except Nikki - f*ck Nikki, more on her later) and well performed. I especially liked Samuel Jordan and Elizabeth Ayodele together. Initially I wasn't really sure what the "point" of the modern plotline was; it felt more directionless than the other two. It wasn't until the party scene near the end, when the estate agent tore into Nikki for accusing Poppy of gentrification or something (again - f*ck Nikki) that it fell into place for me: no one community "owns" a building. What once served as a source of middle-class financial stability for Harry and then served as a safe haven for Joy and her immigrant family is now serving as a means of escape for a depressed London professional, and that's okay! Areas change; it's neither good nor bad, it's just life.

Which is why the conclusion to Poppy's story felt so bizarre. Nikki was an awful, emotionally manipulative POS, and it was reassuring that the framing gave her zero leeway in her bullsh*t. When Poppy turned around in the final scene and said "f*ck it", I was like 90% sure she was about to kiss the estate agent, which would've been a great ending; a new resident demonstrating her readiness to finally move on with her life by starting a relationship with an ex-resident. It's like poetry, it rhymes!

Instead, Nikki gets her girlfriend back, despite making it abundantly clear that she's still essentially the same person who lost said girlfriend. It turns a story about change and moving on into a story about... not postponing your wedding? I'm all for redemption stories, even with cheaters - but Jesus, this would be like if Hamilton walked up to Eliza in "It's Quiet Uptown" and sang "Sorry, I guess, but the way you kept asking me to take a break was super triggering. Also, I'm insecure about our class difference, so really, there's fault on both sides. Take me back?"

Thankfully, one of the advantages of the "concurrent narratives" structure is that we have two really great conclusions to dilute the bad taste of the third. The final scene between Joy and Jimmy's ghost was f*cking heartbreaking. I'm not really sure how I feel about the graffitied message overall, but its usage there was beautiful.