Right Before I Go at Soho Theatre (London) Review
The words “the last” instantly add immense weight to the word that follows them. A suicide note is the final trace a person leaves behind before choosing to leave this world, and the last fragment of that person that we can come to know. What was this person thinking? Why did they choose to die? What did they want to say to the people around them? We seem to want to find answers to all these questions. Right Before I Go, written by Stan Zimmerman and directed by Abigail Morris, is also searching for these answers. Following more than 20 performances at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, this verbatim piece came to Soho Theatre for three performances during Suicide Prevention Month, making the timing particularly fitting.
We would all probably prefer a work like this to have originated entirely from fiction, but the reality is quite the opposite. One day, Zimmerman received a phone call from a friend, through which he learned that his friend Kevin had died by suicide. Before his death, Kevin had left a suicide note mentioning the names of four friends, and Zimmerman was one of them. Unsure how to cope with Kevin's death, Zimmerman began searching online for people’s suicide notes and collecting them in a folder on his computer. This became the foundation for the play. He brought together his personal experience with the suicide notes of celebrities, military personnel, bullied students, and members of the LGBTQ+ community, with different actors taking turns to give voice to these words. In the performance I attended, the cast consisted of Claire-Marie Hall, Jessica Lia Berry, Maureen Lipman, Paul Bigley, Stan Zimmerman, and Tosh Wanogho-Maud.
With the exception of Zimmerman, who wears a purple shirt, the rest of the cast wear black. The scripts are placed in front of the actors, and the entire performance takes the form of a staged reading. The atmosphere remains subdued throughout, with simple and consistent lighting. Only towards the end does gentle music begin to play. None of the suicide notes are embellished or altered. Each is presented in its rawest and most authentic form. Some are sorrowful and oppressive, while others contain a degree of lightness and humour. Delivered with feeling by the actors, the words have a powerful emotional impact.
However, because the notes are largely presented without any particular arrangement or dramaturgical development, there is little emotional progression between them. Each remains an independent piece, while the friendship between Zimmerman and Kevin is not explored in sufficient depth. As a result, the performance often settles into a pattern in which one person reads aloud while the others wait. This also weakens the sense of collective presence and cohesion, leaving the story feeling somewhat fragmented.
By the end of the play, I feel that I still do not know enough about the people who leave these notes, nor do I know enough about Kevin and Zimmerman. Although I can feel the weight of the words I hear, it is actually the moment when Zimmerman brings out a photograph of Kevin that moves me most deeply. In addition, the scripts in front of the actors often become a limitation. An emotional disconnect emerges between looking up to perform and looking down to read. In fact, if the actors were able to move away from the pages in front of them, their emotional communication could become more direct and powerful. The decision to have multiple actors interpret this material is meaningful, but the connections between the performers are equally important.
As it stands, Right Before I Go feels more like a lecture, or a platform for raising awareness of suicide and the issues surrounding it. It comes close to the subject and carries considerable significance, but it is, after all, theatre. It has the potential to tell a deeper story, one that not only conveys the importance of the subject but also moves its audience on a more profound emotional level.
★★★
Written by Ziwen for Theatre and Tonic, September 2026.