Review: Täti ja minä

A SWEET LAUGH AT DEATH

The humour doesn’t get much blacker than this in large institutional theatres.


Aunt and I talk about death in such a tone of voice that any kind of wisdom with the truths of life feels superfluous afterwards. However, the end here will come sooner or later, theorizing life will not help with that. The best thing to do is just accept the facts and start booking a burial place soon.

Well, not now. Although the black humour in the play is harsh, the laughter is liberated. Carnivalization of life’s greatest realities, which often feel cold, is always in order. At the expense of death, you can, can and must have fun when we don’t even know for sure what will happen to us in the end.

The tragicomic reckoning play that takes place in one room demands a lot from the actors. Ritva Valkama as the quiet Aunt Grace and Jouko Klemettilä as the even more talkative Kemppi are able to be lovable and also interesting, even though not much happens in the play. However, small actions are frenzied enough.

The story is certainly not complicated. Forty-year-old bank clerk Kemp wants to escape his own life and comes to lay his dying aunt Grace to rest. However, the elderly person turns out to be a surprisingly persistent case. A year passes, during which both people open up in their own way about important and less important things.

The tranquillity of the afterlife seems to stem above all from boredom with the current conditions. Still, it would perhaps be more pleasant to leave together than alone.


Kari Leppälä’s lighting design and Iiro Rantala’s piano music add to the story’s wonderful sense of timelessness. Real moments arise on stage, which are sometimes fast, sometimes slow. Some of them are more memorable, others less so, but sadness and hope are always present.

When a black comedy is made well, as in the Helsinki City Theatre, there are not only funny characters and downright therapeutic dialogue, but also self-deprecating features.

Personally, I would like to see that Aunty also laughs, albeit quite cautiously, at the play’s crew, the entire large institutional theatre and the spectators who have come to the scene. The Death Joke extends to such tired conservatism and the eternal idleness of a short life in general. Why are we here when we could be somewhere else?

What makes the Nordic premiere interesting is precisely how it approaches the naturally tragicomic essence of life. However, they do not want to go extremely far in stirring up a total atmosphere.

As expected, the performance mainly stays within safe theatrical conventions, which is most clearly indicated by the epilogue-like summary at the end. Someone may still be left wanting to tear down the boundaries more drastically.

On the other hand, the controlled interweaving of controlled chaos also allows for a catharsis that feels pure. The laughter at death is sweet.