The funny thing about grief is that it’s no laughing matter, yet conversely laughter is generally considered the best medicine. That’s the conundrum for this semi-autobiographical production from writer, director, and producer Ben Blais which it doesn’t entirely overcome.
A young man, Charlie (Griffyn Bellah) faces his critically ill mother (Hannah Harquart) and Death (Joe Bellis), a scythe-wielding Scouser in a hood, as he struggles to accept the harsh reality of the grieving process whilst stuck in a play of his own creation.
This is the second play I have seen on grief in as many weeks and whilst I wasn’t reviewing the first, both pieces suffer from the need for some independent creative check which is absent because, in this instance, the writer has opted to direct and produce as well: with a piece as personal as this, it is essential to have that counter-voice to ensure there is a robust whole.
Blais has separately noted that the work was part of a final year university project as well as a response to the loss of his mother in 2019 and whilst undoubtedly a cathartic process, the production resonates from a youthful energy that thrives off ad-hoc swearing and drama student in-jokes which are greeted by the knowing laughter of an audience who clearly share the writers connection to the Liverpool Institute for Performing Arts, and equally it’s clear to see why it would be a crowd pleaser at fringe festivals.
But there is a deeper piece of work here once we get beyond the Woody Allen influenced opening dialogue that betrays Blais’ New Jersey roots, with some thoughtful and insightful writing that explores the parent-child relationship when confronted by an immoveable external force and some delightful observational humour: the lasagne references are particularly cleverly done.
The cast performed strongly with good chemistry and timing which comes from numerous performances, and although Harquart is relatively new to the cast, she is a stated fan of the original piece performed at Edinburgh Fringe.
Bellah’s performance is meticulous in capturing the overload of thoughts and emotions with the necessary accompanying energy and great movement around the stage, with the words effortlessly rolling off his tongue in true New Yorker style, although I think even Allen would have struggled with the overly verbose opening lines.
Harquart’s ‘Mom’ is a former actress which cues a lot of the in-jokes and Shakesperean references, which in my opinion get in the way, but she handles the balance perfectly between the blunt emotions of a mother playing hardball with her wayward son to the soft and tender emotions of a woman who is destined to shortly say goodbye forever.
Bellis is equally balanced in his portrayal of Death, serving up a somewhat likeable harbinger of doom whose warnings extend to concerns about the efficiency of the local Neighbourhood Watch and not locking your doors. There is a trap in Liverpool of overplaying Scouse characters but Bellis’ engaging performance brilliantly avoided it, and he showcased some good physical theatre movement.
It’s easy to get caught up in the emotion and throw five-star ratings around because someone has written about their personal loss; harder but more honest to be critically fair and trust that Blais will continue to develop the piece as his writing evolves because there is an important tale to be told, and he certainly has the raw material and the skill to tell it.
Reviewer: Mark Davoren
Reviewed: 1st March 2025
North West End UK Rating:
Rating: 3 out of 5.
