Lungs won’t leave you with a solution. It won’t tell you whether to have the baby or save the planet. Instead, it leaves you with the feeling of holding your breath underwater—that pressure in your chest, the ringing in your ears, the desperate need to break the surface.
M (the man) does the math out loud. He calculates the carbon footprint of a single human life. He counts the flights, the plastic nappies, the energy consumption. He spirals: “Having a child is the single worst thing you can do for the planet.” lungs by duncan macmillan
There are plays that entertain you, plays that distract you, and then there are plays that grab you by the sternum and refuse to let go. Duncan Macmillan’s Lungs falls squarely into the last category. Lungs won’t leave you with a solution
The Weight of Air: Why Duncan Macmillan’s “Lungs” Will Leave You Breathless M (the man) does the math out loud
Macmillan doesn’t give us a villain or a hero. Both characters are right. And both are terrified. It is a 75-minute panic attack about modern morality. If you have ever lain awake at 3 AM wondering if your recycling bin is full enough or if you should have children, this play is your reflection.
Macmillan uses a theatrical trick that is pure genius: . The play leaps forward in time—a pregnancy, a miscarriage, a birth, a breakup, a reunion, a tragedy—all in the span of a few sentences. You blink, and ten years have passed. You blink again, and they are old.