The brilliance of My Mother’s Funeral at The Yard Theatre, written by Kelly Jones, lies in its razor-sharp balance between comedy and grief. Who knew mourning could be so damn funny? Yet here it was – a masterfully directed production where I found myself laughing through tears, caught between aching loss and absurd, all-too-relatable family drama. With a tight, minimalist approach that never missed a beat, this play delivered both emotional gut punches and riotous comedy gold.
The set design was as stark and raw as the story it accompanied. A single, tiered platform at the centre of the stage, flanked by a few chairs and a lone microphone, created an almost surreal funeral podium. This simple structure forced my attention entirely onto the performers. It was a clever choice, reflecting the emptiness that grief can leave behind, while also reinforcing the theme of “performing” grief in public spaces. I didn’t need funeral props – the stage became a space of shared memory, stripped of artifice.
Nicole Sawyerr was an absolute powerhouse as Abigail. Queer, complex, and deeply relatable, Abigail’s character brought a unique depth to the narrative. Sawyerr’s performance was a masterclass in emotional agility, transitioning effortlessly between moments of deep sorrow and hysterical humour. One moment she stood at the edge of a breakdown, choking out memories of her mother; the next, she spiralled into a frantic comic rant about urgently needing to write a new play to pay for the funeral. I couldn’t look away – captivated by both her vulnerability and her comedic brilliance.
This cast strikes a perfect balance between tears and laughter, leaving us emotionally spent but oddly uplifted
Debra Baker, playing both Abigail’s mother and the fictionalised version within the play, was another standout. Baker exuded warmth and tenderness as the mother, creating a touching contrast with her exaggerated portrayal of the ‘show version’ of the character. This dual performance highlighted the play’s core tension – the pressure to market grief as entertainment.
Samuel Armfield, in two distinct roles, showcased his versatility brilliantly. As Darren, Abigail’s brother, he grounded the production in emotional reality, portraying a sibling both weary and supportive in his own imperfect way. In his second role, Armfield brought a more heightened comedic energy, leaning into the absurdity of the play-within-a-play structure. His ability to seamlessly shift between these characters highlighted his exceptional range, keeping me both laughing and emotionally invested.
Charlotte Bennett’s direction deserves special praise. It takes a steady hand to navigate a story that dances so fluidly between two emotional extremes. Under Bennett’s tight, purposeful guidance, every scene landed with precision – no moment felt out of place or overstretched. The comedy and grief intertwined beautifully, creating a narrative flow that kept me engaged and emotionally off-balance. Just when I’d finished wiping away a tear, a sharp line would catch me off guard, and suddenly, I was laughing again. It was catharsis at its finest.
In the intimate setting of The Yard Theatre, the play’s emotional rawness felt immediate and immersive. There was a confessional quality to the storytelling here – as if I wasn’t just watching but being invited into Abigail’s mind to share in her memories and her need to fulfil what she believed her mother would have wanted. This drive, rather than regrets, gave the narrative its emotional momentum, grounding the humour and sorrow in a powerful authenticity.
Final Thoughts ★★★★★
Would I recommend My Mother’s Funeral? Oh, absolutely. If you’ve ever wanted to grieve and giggle simultaneously, this is the play for you. The production doesn’t just hit you with raw emotion; it cradles you in moments of absurdity that feel all too human. Nicole Sawyerr’s stellar performance, paired with tight direction and an equally talented supporting cast, ensures this is a funeral you won’t soon forget.
Bring tissues – for both the tears and the laughter. And of course, there’s a playful touch of Queerness throughout – and who doesn’t like Queer ants?
Playing at The Yard Theatre until 15 February 2025.
Disclaimer: A complimentary ticket was provided in return for an honest and unbiased review.
