The Weather

clarepollard

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Its ten years since my play ‘The Weather‘ was on. It was about a shopaholic, addict mother, an absent, fat-cat father and their teenage daughter.  It was also, to me, a play clearly about climate change. It was called The Weather’ for a start, and began with the declaration: ‘It’s over. I mean, have you seen the weather out there? Have you seen the fucking weather?’ In each scene, although they were only days or even hours apart, the weather had changed dramatically – from snow to tropical temperatures. It depicted a world on the cusp of an ‘eremozoic age’ -the age of solitude – as butterflies and birds died out leaving nothing but ‘people and their things’, and there were long speeches about consumption and blame and the impossibility of imagining the end of the world. There was also a poltergeist in the house, flinging things around…

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