Writer: Mo Maka
Director: Eden Igwe
Mo Maka mines the ‘frazzled doctor’ trope to decent effect in her 50-minute two-hander, Do Not Attempt This Conversation, though much of the dramatic impact emerges from a mid-way narrative coincidence so unlikely that you may find yourself struggling to willingly suspend your disbelief. Still, the performances are solid, and Maka, a resident NHS doctor when she is not writing and performing in plays, explores the mostly unsatisfactory choices around end-of-life decision-making with admirable even-handedness.
Fresh out of medical school, Nneka (Maka) is on her first on-call A & E shift, and the whole evening has been an absolute nightmare. She is worried about her ailing neighbour Symon, who is not answering their phone, and the Senior Consultant, known to one and all as Dr Jack Arse, is more interested in watching football than giving her advice. So far, so Casualty.
Worse is to come. There is an unseen elderly patient on one of the wards set to expire soon from a fatal combination of chest infection, sepsis, and chronic kidney disease. The family, personified in the robustly assertive form of granddaughter Stephanie (AJ Samuel), are demanding the doctors ‘do something’. “They want their very own pet animated corpse”, Nneka mutters sotto voce, wondering whether the whole evening is punishment for humming R Kelly songs at work.
Nneka has the tricky task of persuading Stephanie to accede to a ‘Do Not Attempt Resuscitation’ order when the time comes, even though ultimately it is the medical team who will make the call. “Why did they send me a nurse when I asked for a doctor?” demands Stephanie of the young female medic, a line that sounds depressingly true to life, as does much else in the writing. Cue a bust-up between the two that airs some of the moral and emotional challenges faced by each woman with clarity, if not absolute originality.
Nneka may have missed the ‘breaking bad news’ module at medical school and freely admits she has only ever worked with “simulated relatives”. The duo brings ChatGPT into the discussion before Nneka decides to put it plainly: “His lungs are fucked, and his kidneys are super-fucked… he will die, or he will die in pain”. The line had the large medical contingent in the Edinburgh Fringe preview audience squirming in their seats, though really the doctor’s brutal frankness is Maka setting up her protagonist for a jaw-dropping reversal of fortune.
Maka adds light to the shade with moments of dark comedy, most effectively when Nneka likens Stephanie’s grandpa’s chances of survival to a drunken, blindfolded, aged footballer scoring a penalty at the World Cup. The women, each in their own way, are trying to do their best for the dying man. There are no good choices or outcomes here, and one feels for both of them.
Reviewed on 22 July 2026
