It is not the most cheery title but black comedy The Suicide by Nikolai Erdman has plenty of laughs as well as a serious underlying message. Written in 1928 in communist Russia, the play was banned during the whole of the Stalinist era and resulted in Erdman’s banishment to Siberia.
The Suicide tells the tale of the unemployed Semyon who lives with his wife Mascha and mother-in-law Serafima in a small apartment in Russia. After a row about liverworst and his loss of self worth, Semyon disappears leaving Masha to think he might commit suicide. She warns his neighbour Alexander who stages an intervention, but in the process unintentionally plants a seed in Semyon’s mind.
It’s a greatly entertaining incarnation with a great performance by Damian Cooper as the hapless Semyon, while a standout Cordelia O’Neill demonstrates her full emotional range as the passionate Masha. In many scenes like the turning point tuba scene, Lucy Frederick’s straight-faced Serafima creates the comedy.
After failing to play the tuba, Semyon decides to write a suicide note that blames no one for his death: what follows is a perfect absurd comedy. Soon Semyon has people knocking on his door to discard the no blame angle and to kill himself for a cause. His visitors represent all worthy causes from the Russian intelligentsia to romance and art, and all think to benefit from a stand made by his death. Suddenly Semyon becomes a hero but his sudden status change brings interesting consequences.
This story, at the time a not too subtle jab at Stalin’s communism, is still one that a modern audience can relate to. Several sections of society are under pressure in the current economical climate and their causes all vie for attention. Plus, of course underneath the black humour lies the plight of the desperate individual, searching for meaning within a restricted, downtrodden life.
The Suicide is well directed by Adam Hemming, who manages to physicalize the absurdist humour of the script, climaxing in a chaotic pursuit scene. The humour does take a moment to get to grips with, and the first half often feels chaotic, whereas the second half could do with a quicker pace. Despite that, The Suicide is a wonderfully rich play, the many layers made palatable by Erdman’s excellent clever humour, with its surprise ending being just a moment of genius.
