Outliving Shakespeare — a humane portrayal of Armenia’s elderly
OC Media
Armenian director Inna Sahakyan’s follow-up to her acclaimed animated documentary Aurora’s Sunrise (2022) — which recounted the extraordinary story of Aurora Mardiganian, from surviving the Armenian Genocide to becoming a silent movie star in Hollywood and beyond — provides a similarly humane portrayal of its subjects, though in a markedly different style.
Outliving Shakespeare (2025) follows a theatre troupe set up in a somewhat derelict Soviet-era retirement home as they attempt to stage Shakespeare’s Sins, an original play in which the bard’s own tragic characters confront him over their fates. The camera follows the entire process, from casting to just before the curtain opens at the premiere, all the while digging deeper into the lives of the cast members, from their past before the home to new relationships developed in retirement, giving each the space to exhibit what makes them unique and worth getting to know.
There is the vivacious Ligia, who is always dolled up and ready to put on a show — ‘an actress in life, not just the stage’, as her relatives describe her; the feisty Anahit, never afraid to drop a curse word or tell everyone her true thoughts while wheeling around the home in her chair, lit cigarette in hand; the modern-day Romeo, Suren, who attempts to convince fellow resident Rose that she will surely fall in love with him; and many many more.
One of the most interesting characters, despite being off-screen for much of the film, is 50-year-old Gayane. Her placement in the retirement home at her rather young age is peculiar, and early on in the film she decides to return to Nagorno-Karabakh, her original home. Yet, she does this just before the Lachin blockade begins — a central thread throughout the film is the ongoing blockade, the effects of which residents hear through TV broadcasts, and the region’s eventual surrender to Azerbaijan following a full-scale military offensive, with Gayane as a result returning back to the care home and the theatre troupe.
Another subject that repeatedly arises is director Garnik’s attempts to cast a Richard III — one man can’t recall his lines and another unfortunately dies mid-way through the rehearsals. With no family left, the man is buried in a community grave in the middle of nowhere, a sad reminder of what is awaiting many of the residents, despite the vitality they may still be showing at the moment.
Indeed, many of the residents feel a sense of abandonment from their relatives. As one puts it, ‘We have nowhere to go, or else we would have all left’. Even Ligia, who attempts to leave the home and live with her family, finds that her son has no respect for her, thinking she has become too eccentric in her old age.
Despite these darker subjects, there is a strong sense of humor that is carried throughout the documentary, largely due to the lack of filters many of the residents have. Perhaps, with nothing much left to do, they are now free to speak and live as they wish. Other moments of humor come through the juxtapositions Sahakyan manages to find, such as when she depicts the elderly residents in this rather sterile and out-of-date home interacting with ultra-modern robot companions, or when one cast member can’t ever remember the name Yorick, instead calling the skull from Hamlet by the name Yurik or Jorik.
Throughout the film, all of the residents, along with a mentally-disabled younger man who also participates in the theatre troupe, are depicted with dignity and respect. It is a quietly-moving film, one that will make you question the future that awaits all of us — if only we can receive the same amount of grace given these residents, despite the less than stellar conditions of the home itself.
