Standing beside a coffin supported on a catafalque is Fern, a civil celebrant, smartly dressed and good at what she does, which is to eulogise the dead.
But now she is feeling uneasy when faced with the respectful and expectant faces of the congregation. Perhaps she is burned out after 248 funerals in five years. Meaning is becoming illusive, leaving her resorting to clichés and platitudes of a life well lived and an individual cherished and unable to gain succour from her lost religion. These days her dinner party stories of exotic funeral rites seem less popular, but who needs a social life when business is booming?
The job involves eliciting information for her “sermon”, pulling reminiscences from loved ones to paint a picture of the dearly departed. That done she can go home and sleep the peaceful sleep of the dead. But an encounter with Vanessa Borrowdale, all cheer, chintz and china, leaves her restless. She won’t be drawn on the unremarkable life of her deceased 52-year-old son Martin, as to do so would be to dig up the past and no one wants an ugly truth.
And what does one do with honesty when we don’t speak ill of the dead? It exhumes in Fern events that have had her come apart at the seams, facing the abyss. You don’t have to die to be dead inside and the opportunity to disable delusion about her own family is perhaps a chance for reconciliation with her childhood self and a second life.
It’s a production which does the subject justice without being bleak. Conway gives a commanding performance, and the inspired visual ending is both moving and memorable.
Show times: 1 to 11 August 2024 at 12.25pm. (Interpreted and captioned 5th. Relaxed 6th).
Tickets: £17 (£14.50).
Suitability: Age 16+ (Contains haze, strong language/swearing, references to themes of grief, loss, death, and sexual abuse, particularly towards a child).