Right Before I Go ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

“From Stan Zimmerman (writer of Golden Girls and Gilmore Girls), Right before I go. highlights the raw struggles of people who have died by suicide. The play uses real suicide notes of celebrities, veterans, bullied teens, those identifying as LGBTQ+, people who have experienced a range of mental health calamities – as well as those who have survived attempts. The show is followed by a conversation between with the audience. Directed by Abigail Morris. Featuring a rotating cast of all-stars, including Wendie Malick (Shrinking), Emily Kuroda (Gilmore Girls), Claire-Marie Hall (Operation Mincemeat), Gerard McCarthy (Trespasses) and more. “

Abigail Morris's direction is barely noticeable, and I mean that as a compliment. The majority of the production consists of performers sitting on high stools and reading from their scripts, occasionally stepping forward to deliver a particular passage. There are moments where the staging does a little more, bringing performers forward and changing the visual dynamic, and I particularly enjoyed those moments.

But ultimately, I don’t think the lack of traditional direction takes anything away from the production. In fact, trying to make this material more theatrical could easily have distracted from what makes it so powerful. The restraint keeps the words as the focus.

LX is beautifully simple, predominantly staying in one state and enabling us to connect with the performers and, more importantly, the stories they are telling. There is no need for a constantly changing visual landscape when the emotional environment is changing so dramatically in front of us.

Sound is similarly restrained. There are only a few moments of soundscape, but they are beautifully judged and sit at exactly the right level. Nothing competes with the words, which is absolutely crucial here.

Costume is equally stripped back, with everyone dressed in black apart from our main host, who wears a purple shirt with black trousers. It is simple but effective, allowing us to concentrate on the stories rather than the performers’ individual identities. The actors serve as vessels for the voices they are representing.

Projections are the production element that adds the greatest emotional power. Seeing photographs of the people whose words are being read creates an immediate and deeply empathic connection. Suddenly, these aren’t simply words on a page. A face is attached to them. A life. A person. It is an incredibly effective choice, and one that never feels exploitative.

Stan Zimmerman's book is genuinely moving. The central personal story running through the piece gives the production an emotional anchor, and it becomes increasingly touching as the evening progresses. Much of the material is made up of verbatim suicide notes, and that comes with an enormous responsibility. Thankfully, the writing and editing treat the material with the seriousness and respect it deserves. There is no attempt to sensationalise these stories or turn them into neat theatrical narratives. Instead, we are asked to listen. And listening is surprisingly powerful.

The show grows especially emotional as the different stories begin to accumulate. You can feel the audience processing what they have heard, and there are moments where even the performers themselves appear visibly affected by the words they are delivering. That emotional response is not manufactured. It comes from knowing these are real words written by real people.

The performances (on 20th August) from Wendie Malick, Claire Feuille, Stan Zimmerman, Claire-Marie Hall, Sam Stuart Fraser and Gerard McCarthy were all brilliant. Each performer brings something different to the material, but importantly, none of them attempts to overpower it.

They understand that the words are the star. There is a lovely balance between the performers, with each expressing genuine emotion and sensitivity to the stories they are entrusted with. Claire-Marie Hall was a particular highlight for me. Having recently left Operation Mincemeat, it was wonderful to see her give such a polar opposite performance here. There is none of the broad musical comedy energy we might associate with that role. Instead, she demonstrates an extraordinary level of control and emotional honesty. It shows just how versatile she is as a performer.

Sam Stuart Fraser also brings a lovely sensitivity to the material, while Gerard McCarthy has a commanding stage presence that immediately draws you in. Wendie Malick brings a great deal of skill and a reserved authority to the piece, and Stan Zimmerman himself provides an important personal connection to the material. The show isn’t easy viewing. Nor should it be.

Right before I go asks its audience to sit with stories that are painful, uncomfortable and, at times, devastating. But it also creates space for conversation afterwards, allowing the audience to process what they have seen rather than simply sending them back out into the Edinburgh streets with all of it sitting heavily on their shoulders. The post-show discussion is an important part of the experience. What makes the production work is its refusal to overelaborate something that doesn’t need complication. Six people. Some stools. Some scripts. Some photographs. And words that are impossible to ignore.

It is not a traditional piece of theatre, and those looking for elaborate staging or a conventional dramatic narrative may find the presentation surprisingly bare. But that bareness is precisely what gives the show its power. Right before I go doesn’t try to tell us how to feel. It simply asks us to listen to people who desperately wanted to be heard. And sometimes, that is more than enough.

Right Before I Go plays at Pleasance Queen Dome from the 5–31 August at 3:35 pm and runs for approximately 60 minutes. For more information click this link: https://www.pleasance.co.uk/event/right-i-go