Hard to know how to describe ‘Blindness’. Profound, chilling, unsettling, scary and for me, intensely and personally true.
The Concert Chamber at the Town Hall was dark but for the lights you see, as we entered.
Once everyone was seated – two by two, masked and distanced but facing in all directions, we put on stereo headphones and the narrative began.
Isolated totally from our world and unable to see or move, we were catapulted into a world of pandemic and panic where all but a few percent of the populace was blind.
Juliet Stevenson (mark my words, she will become a Dame) was magnificent as the Narrator who has to hide the fact she can see, in order to stay with her blind husband.
The sound engineers have contrived a work of genius, so realistic that when she was speaking in my ear, I had to remind myself my Dil was there, not her. 
It’s a brutal story but then violence, criminality and revenge are only just below the surface in many of us, waiting to turn humans into predators as soon as social order breaks down.
Perhaps the most telling phrase, uttered at the end, was advice for any pandemic, ‘Don’t lose yourself.’
When everything which makes you who you are: children, family, art, writing, travelling, hobbies, socialising – is taken away and you are forced to live a tiny, government-ordered, threatened existence, are you still who you were?
During Covid, normal life skidded to a halt, we cannot be who we were but we must not lose sight of who we are.
When the perfomance ended, two people clapped hesitantly but stopped when no one else joined in. It just wasn't a thing one applauded. We all filed out in silence - thinking.
A better review here:
britishtheatre.com/review-blindness-donmar-warehouse-london
Best part of the day: when I arrived at my son and Dil's house, Gubbins beamed at me and continued to do so when we got back from the theatre.
