Sometimes I Laugh Like My Sister

Sometimes I Laugh Like My Sister is tough to place in the context of an arts show. It has less of the feel of a theatrical performance, more of an intimate conversation.

In 2005 Rebecca Payton’s sister Kate, a BBC journalist, was shot dead while covering war-torn Somalia. This tore Rebecca and her family’s life apart and Sometimes I Laugh... is the unadorned story of the calamitous effects it had on her.

It is a breathtaking, unsparingly honest depiction of a family’s grief. There are no dramatic tricks or supporting characters, just an hour-long narration of the devastating loss she suffered. Going through such an emotional outpouring for an hour each night for a whole month seems akin to self-flagellation, but Rebecca uses the show to raise the issue of journalistic freedom, and perhaps also to ease the burden.

The years-long coroner’s inquest into Kate’s death, believed to be linked to a Somali warlord, swallowed up Rebecca’s life. She consummately describes navigating the conflicting tangle of opinions and questions Kate’s death brought up. Some of Kate’s colleagues felt the BBC should have been brought to trial for pressuring her to take up a risky assignment.

Impressively, she manages to include some moments of dark humour in the story. She laughs off an 18-month period of alcoholism following the tragedy, and enjoys relating upsetting dinner parties with frank discussions of death.

This is a hard-hitting, deeply emotional act, and highly commendable.