Review: GRIEFCASE, Hope Theatre
Photo credit: Becca Hunt Films
Griefcase is a deeply personal one-person show that explores loss and how suffocating and disruptive it can be. G (Ru Lawrence), the protagonist, has hit rock bottom after an unknown event that has left them grief-stricken. Unable to motivate themselves or maintain routine, social, or professional engagements, they sinks into memory and numbness. We watch as they attempt to make sense of absence through fragmented storytelling, expressive movement, and moments of ill met humour. It’s a familiar depiction of grief at rock bottom, but unfortunately, the piece doesn’t move much beyond it.
Central to the staging is a suitcase, their “griefcase.” It intends to be a dominant force on stage, a tangible thing holding something intangible. The metaphor is rich with potential, although the piece doesn’t fully capitalise on it. It doesn’t evolve or deepen over the course of the show, and by the end, its symbolic weight starts to feel unclear since we never discover what the grief is in reference to and that absence becomes a missed opportunity. A stronger connection between the object and the emotional journey might have given the piece a firmer anchor.
There is, however, an honesty in the vulnerability that writer and performer, Lawrence, brings. This is clearly a work drawn from some sort of experience, and the performance itself is emotionally open. But when a piece is this close to the artist, it can be difficult to take it into the tougher, more revealing places it demands. An external collaborator like a director or dramaturg could help shape it, pushing further into the tension between catharsis and theatrical impact.
Movement plays a major role in the storytelling. Contemporary dance sequences are woven between monologues and fragments of text. At times, the movement offers emotional intensity, however, movements don’t always provoke or transform each other, and the choreography, while raw, becomes somewhat general. It’s expressive, but not always expressive enough to tell its own story.
There are glimpses of something more layered. A striking moment comes when the performer removes their costume, standing exposed. The symbolism is clear but affecting. One wonders what might shift if, later, they were to put the clothes back on, to begin the act of carrying grief rather than simply baring it.
Music helps colour the emotional landscape, creating an atmosphere of melancholy that becomes increasingly fragile.
Griefcase doesn’t offer resolution and that’s intentional. Grief resists narrative closure. It lingers, reshapes, and returns. The show understands this, and in its own unpolished way, asks us to sit in that discomfort. It’s not always dramatically effective, but it is emotionally sincere.
This is a debut piece that speaks to something we all carry. The subject matter is deeply human, and the voice behind it has potential. With further development, clearer direction, and a braver sense of structure, Griefcase could evolve into something more piercing, more defined. For now, it’s an earnest beginning—and a courageous one.
*** Three stars
Reviewed by: Stephanie Osztreicher
Griefcase plays at London’s Hope Theatre until 6 August, with further info here.
