Right before I go – Soho Theatre, London

Writer: Stan Zimmerman

Director: Abigail Morris

Any way in which discussion of suicide can be opened up to a wider audience has to be applauded. Stan Zimmerman’s Right before I go, which has toured American schools for some time, therefore deserves credit.

Shocked by the unexpected suicide of a close friend in LA, Zimmerman lays out his bewildered reactions in order to help others. No one seems to know why this friend – seemingly a highly successful writer and actor – took his life.

Zimmerman describes obsessively collecting published suicide letters to try to understand more. He describes wanting to solve ‘the puzzle’, an image that is strangely affectless. Images flash up on screen as he describes glamorous headshots of men and women who seem, by and large, to have been famous in the American arts scene. Four actors from a rotating cast (in this performance: Edward DeRuiter, Emrhys Cooper, Jessica Lia Berry and Lucy Speed) read aloud the chosen extracts.

It’s hard to imagine how strongly these suicides will resonate with audiences, in particular with younger people whom this show is surely intended to touch. Inevitably, Virginia Woolf does duty as the famous British suicide. Then there’s an abrupt segue to a young British girl whose suicide note about being bullied because of her looks makes for painful listening. This is followed by further examples of young people shamed by online abuse.

Later Zimmerman gives the example of someone who survived his suicide attempt, and goes on to talk about shame and guilt – further enormous topics that can only be dealt with anecdotally.

The difficulty about devising a 60-minute show that deals with such sensitive and far-ranging topics is one of content and tone. Zimmerman, a comedian by trade, aims to keep the mood light. When he rounds off the show by returning to his friend, he reveals he always carries his photo, pulling it out of his breast pocket and holding it up to the audience, while an enlarged image of him in his golden prime appears on screen. Zimmerman chokes up as he kisses the photo and wishes farewell to him. It’s undoubtedly sincere, but feels rather contrived.

The show is followed by a brief unscripted audience discussion with two health-care professionals present. It’s a risky thing to pull off, especially in so short a time. The actors are invited to offer ideas, and there’s generally a feeling that we can help people by ‘really sharing our energy’. The couple of Samaritan volunteers present added some much-needed nuance.

Runs until 10 September 2026