Colin Campbell in Grief: A One-Man Shitshow Photo: Rebecca Asher
Grief is an emotional reaction shared by all humans and even, as some research suggests, by all primates. It is also a difficult emotion to share or describe. It is a dark and fearsome place hiding some primeval collective experience of humankind. It is a thing to be run from and denied. The mere idea of embracing grief is anathema to most people, yet grief is something virtually everyone experiences multiple times in their lives.
Grief, A One Man Shitshow, written and performed by Colin Campbell and directed with care and understanding by Michael Schlitt, is a tour de force exploration of grief by someone who lives with it every waking minute. In June 2019, his teenage son and daughter, Hart and Ruby, were killed by a drunk driver. His only children, sitting in the backseat of his car, were gone in an instant. It was a horrific experience, and now, a little over three and a half years later, he is telling us about his journey through the darkness of grief.
It starts with the brutal confrontation of the facts of his children’s death: a point-by-point description of the moments leading up to their murder–because that is what it was, given the person who caused the crash. She was drunk, high on drugs, and on probation for a DUI conviction, with an active warrant for her arrest. The horror of that accident is the jumping-off point for a remarkable exploration into how humans process grief.
“We’ve lost the insights of the ancient Greeks and no longer know how to process intense grief or talk to the grieving,” according to Campbell. He tells us that the Greeks invented theater so they could talk about grief. The goal was to acknowledge, in a public way, suffering as a thing that connects people and, through that connection, allows them to become a community. And in becoming a community, “We learn compassion. And empathy. Not sympathy, sympathy is easy-–genuine empathy.”
The concept of empathy is essential in understanding a story about processing grief because most people’s reaction to grief lacks empathy—for example, saying “they are in a better place,” as if death is better than life.
Campbell guides us through many typical responses to grief and shows us how he learned to deal with them. He also reveals the main response that he finds intolerable, “There are no words.” But he shows us that even with these actions that lack empathy or understanding, he has come to understand that people are trying to offer comfort in the only ways they know how. And he explains to us through the various things he and his wife, Gail, explored in their attempts to come to grips with their loss, to make sense of their feelings, and to keep from going completely “crazy,” although he shows us that there is an element of “being crazy” that is part of the grieving process. In a sense, it is a managed craziness.
They went through books, individual therapy, group therapy, discussion groups, in their need to find a workable coping mechanism for the flood of feelings that came in different forms every day. And Campbell he came to an understanding of what grief is and what it means in the life of every human being. He and Gail gained insights that helped them manage their suffering; one of those insights led to the creation of his show.
Campbell’s style of presentation put me in mind of George Carlin’s delivery manner–but without the physical elements Carlin used but with the structure of his sentences, his choice of words, and the rhythm of delivery. It is an effective style for providing essential information in a subtle, almost laid-back way.
Here is an example from his discussion on grief groups: “It’s like the worst cocktail conversation you can imagine. ‘Hey Sharon, how’s your week been?’ ‘Well, today is the ninth anniversary of Benjamin falling off the cliff. Or, well, of them finding his body. So, you know, it’s been rough. How about you?’ ‘Well, Tuesday is the day the rock fell on Maya’s head and put her in a coma till she passed away four days later. So Tuesdays are hard.’ The one side-benefit of going to these grief groups is that you get to learn about all the amazing and varied ways kids can die.”
He clearly explains the types of things spoken about in the groups with a somewhat humorous but pertinent observation about sharing the tragedy that triggered the grief. Campbell’s monologue uses this approach to effectively engage the audience with a difficult topic and still be entertaining.
The set is sparse but meaningful. A picture of Ruby and Hart sits on a table, and there is a chair, the nature of which needs to be experienced. The other elements are a series of props that he skillfully uses to illustrate aspects of his story.
Listening to his exploration is to be a part of the grieving process, because just the thought of grief puts all of us in touch with that feeling. As much as his monologue is a personal coping mechanism for him, it becomes a moment of shared understanding for those who listen. It is a time for the audience to, in a sense, safely explore their feelings of grief by projecting the scary things onto Colin Campbell. In reality, his play is a roadmap to our understanding of the grieving process. No matter how much we want to shut out that process, sharing his grief makes us a part of his community and shows us a path to understanding the role of empathy in our lives and the inescapable reality of grief. His exploration reaches into those dark places we sometimes desperately try to hide.