The UP Series
Last night, I finished watching a series of documentary movies made in England between 1963 and the present day, which is unofficially known as the Up series. Starting with 7 UP in 1963, the show interviewed a bunch of seven-year-olds from all different backgrounds about their views on life, school, the opposite sex, race, and money. They went back to interview these kids (the shop assistants and executives of 2000) every subsequent 7 years and together we watch them grow and transform.
I’ll be the first to admit that this series has had a profound effect on me. Originally intended as a political experiment (to profile classism in England), it is not so much that as a lesson in the studies of life. Whatever the backgrounds, the participants follow similar lifecycles. From the openness of their first interviews, to the nervous giggle of their adolescent selves; from the uncertainty and excitement (and arrogant pronouncements about the way of the world) in their early twenties to the settling down period and family focus of their late twenties; from the financial, emotional and marital strains of middle age, to the contentment and acceptance of life in their late forties; it is possible to detect a pattern. And of course, as Michael Apted says, the popularity of the show stems from people watching not the interviewees, but themselves. And this is entirely true.
I got to thinking about theatre. So many theatres have settled into the complacency of middle age (from the view of an idealistic twenty-something) that they are happy to tailor their expectations to what they know, and what they have come to accept as reality (audience preferences, ticket sales, etc). And they are content. Meanwhile the young thrash about trying to create something new, to break away from the old, and are not content until things exist as they believe it should, and as they want it to be. One thing the program has me thinking is that neither is better nor worse. They are simply different stages in a life cycle. And what I really appreciate about Long Wharf is that it is so healthy at balancing the new ideas with the existing jewels, the idealism of youth with the reality of experience, the uncertainty of new spheres with the stability of longevity.
This is just a fraction of what this documentary has made me feel. It’s so rare to see anything that has the power to do that. Therein lies its integrity. I’d recommend watching it to anyone. If it inspires thought in you as it has in me, it’s worth the investment.
