Headlines were made around the world when the UK Parliament gave the go-ahead to sign assisted dying into law. It’s a contentious issue, with arguments being made on both sides, and this timely premiere at the Park Theatre of Neil LaBute’s How To Fight Loneliness goes some way to exploring this multi-faceted issue. Under Lisa Spirling’s assured direction, this three-hander delivers a quietly devastating punch, balancing LaBute’s trademark moral ambiguity with moments of genuine tenderness and humanity.
We first meet Jodie (Justina Kehinde) and Brad (Archie Backhouse) in their US suburban home, laying out canapés for a soon-to-arrive guest. They banter back and forth, and while all seems convivial, it’s clear that there’s more to this than meets the eye, and that there’s tension brewing to the point of boiling over. LaBute’s script takes its time here, and the audience welcomes the arrival of Tate (Morgan Watkins), a figure from Jodie’s past.
The remainder of the first half sees the three characters hash out the legality, morality, and emotional cost of what’s been proposed. Jodie is in favour; her terminal illness means that she wants to choose the time and way that she will die. Brad is on the opposite side of the argument, torn between wanting more time with his wife, while at the same time wanting to support her wishes. Tate, with his own troubled background, plays devil’s advocate, teasing out arguments for and against assisted dying from both of them.
But there’s a problem with the very premise of the show. The play aims to discuss assisted dying, but the method chosen by the characters is unmistakably murder. There may have been room for debate if there had been more ambiguity in the decisions taken. This seems to be a deliberate choice; Jodie tells us there are a handful of States with right-to-die laws that she and Brad could have moved to, but instead this is the path she has chosen. What’s never properly explained is why.
The set-up becomes somewhat ridiculous, to the point where it wouldn’t take Columbo to work out what the trio had cooked up between them. There are inconsistencies throughout the story, and the consequences of this situation for Tate are barely touched upon. There are moments of levity in this otherwise dark play, but few of them are actually that funny.
If the story of How To Fight Loneliness is messy, the dialogue is even messier. At one point, I wondered if I was watching improv rather than a scripted play as each new line spoken seemed to only hold a passing relationship with the previous one spoken. There is also too much of a fondness for repetition in this play; each question is asked at least four times and answered just as many. It’s distracting and ultimately frustrating.
Thankfully, the cast manage to pick up some of the slack. Archie Backhouse’s Brad is a study in suppressed anguish, his attempts at bravado masking a deep vulnerability. Morgan Watkins, as Tate, brings a necessary ambiguity—at once comforting and unsettling, his presence is a catalyst and a mirror for the couple’s desperation. Justina Kehinde gives Jodie a brittle strength, but Kehinde is battling a poorly written character that fails to adequately portray the unimaginable struggles of someone living with terminal cancer.
Mona Camille’s set is a fusion of trendy suburban kitchen and sprawling Oregon desert. It has to be reset for the final scene, and one has to wonder why. It’s a scene that feels superfluous and only seems to serve as an explanation for the title.
How To Fight Loneliness presents some honest discussions but wastes an opportunity to really explore these characters. In the years to come, when the assisted dying bill has passed through committee and been signed into law, there will be great plays written on the subject; sadly, this won’t be one of them.
Listings and ticket information can be found here.
