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Good Grief

There is something to be said for a show that is written like poetry. In a world where there are so many styles of writing, it’s hard to imagine the possibility of a meeting of writings, especially when it comes to plays. You’d think plays are pretty basically…plays. So is it possible to say a play is written like poetry? After seeing Ngozi Anyanwu’s Good Grief, I’d say absolutely.

And that was what initially drew me into this show. Honestly, I didn’t really know what I was getting into with this. But we start so simply, with two people who obviously care about each other very deeply. And poetry. These are characters that I know I want to like…and I know I’m going to be losing one. I did read that blurb, thank you very much.

There were so many elements to this show, and although at times they seemed so separate, they all ended up being so connected, it astounded me. We see these windows into Nkechi’s life. We see her history with MJ as a best friend and a romantic partner in the past. We see what his death does to her in the present. But as with anyone’s life, there are so many windows. We hear about JD in high school and then get to meet him after MJ’s death. We see the storytellers of the past. We see everything and anything that goes in between worlds.

I felt my heart break over and over with Good Grief. After all, grief is something we all experience. It’s part of human nature. But it’s also something we often try to avoid, or push away. Grief is often considered a shameful thing, something we can’t show anyone else. There are repercussions to showing these feelings. We live in a world where no one wants to admit to their frailty, to those moments where we feel weak and lost. This show did something about all those preconceived notions, something about the things we try to keep secret.

So back to the poetic language of the show. I think this is something that truly carried the show, and really carried my emotions. We have a main character who’s a writer. We experience some of her poetry. It all fits within the framework of what we’re watching. From the start, I knew Nkechi could never be a doctor like she’s expected to be. This play could have been written by Nkechi herself. I feel her words throughout the whole thing.

And of course, the end of a show like this must be totally elevated. You have to end it right, it has to be completely out of this world. We got exactly that. I’m a very spiritual person, and watching this story being told of the two companions throughout time hit me hard. It’s all my beliefs, and all my hopes. I was in tears. Suddenly, I’m thinking about everything else in this show. The beautiful African dance scene. The idea of being a king, no, a God. A life that is lived forever and never forgotten. Because, even for those who aren’t kings or Gods, we all have a legacy that is carried on in one way or another.

Hedgerow Theatre is magical. I’ve said it before, and I’m sure I’ll say it again. In that small theatre, with those old walls and all the history they hold, I experienced something different from the last time I was there, and the time before that. Good Grief was being performed in a theatre where there has been a lot of tears, lots of pain. It’s just one drama in a line of many that got energy from the surroundings and the audience. I think that’s something else that really brought this play to life for me.

Nkechi experiences grief in different ways, and handles it differently from person to person. How real is that? Obviously, when you’re going through something like that, you’re going to be a different person depending on who you’re with. Seeing a young woman go through all of this is hard enough. But we see how her parents think she’s overreacting, and her substance use with her brother. But Nkechi knows MJ will always be a part of her. And I think that’s eventually what turns the tide.

I think I want to finish this with a scene that was pretty short, but hit me in so many ways. Nkechi is in a car with her father, and he’s preparing to teach her how to drive. He’s talking about how she’s a grown woman, and needs to learn to drive. Here’s my (not so) secret- I am 33 years old and still don’t drive (something I am working on!) So I’m definitely feeling that one to begin with. A moment later, I was hit with the horrifying realization that this woman just lost her best friend and lover in a car accident, and she’s sitting behind the wheel of a car being ordered to drive. It’s trauma on top of trauma.

But those beautifully folded moments are what made Good Grief a true masterpiece. Nothing is ever what it seems to be on the surface. I wish I had gotten to see it before closing weekend…I’m sure I would have experienced even more seeing it again.

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