By Nick Pilgrim
Death is the one absolute that links all living beings, yet it remains a major taboo in Western society. Where many cultures and religions openly acknowledge and even celebrate the process as part of life’s natural cycle, dying is the one topic we locals continue to avoid like the plague.
For Australian writer Cory Taylor (1955–2016), a terminal melanoma diagnosis in 2005 became her call to action. Determined to de-stigmatise death, Taylor emerged as a spokesperson for open, honest discussion around dying. By confronting our collective fear of the unknown, she also became an advocate for greater legal rights to choose death on one’s own terms.
Published just months before her passing, Dying: A Memoir chronicles Taylor’s journey from diagnosis to acceptance. Told with raw honesty, humour, and dignity, it is ultimately a book about living well. Taylor’s central message – that acknowledgement, rather than resistance, enriches our understanding of life.
Despite its bleak subject matter, Dying feels familiar and comforting. Taylor’s accessible, conversational tone invites readers into her world – whether she’s in a hospital waiting room, at a group therapy session, simply sitting with family or struggling to pen ‘the note’. Above all, her disarming humour carries the story forward with warmth and grace.
Under the inspired direction of Jean Tong (Flat Earthers: The Musical, Heartbreak High) and acclaimed writer Benjamin Law (The Family Law, Gaysia: Adventures in the Queer East), Taylor’s memoir has been reimagined as a world-premiere one-woman show.
Solo performances are the ultimate acting challenge.
With only the author’s words for guidance, a performer must fully inhabit every emotion, thought, and silence alone. In my fifteen years as a reviewer, I’ve encountered similarly intimate works – A Different Way Home (2015), Every Brilliant Thing (2016), Vigil (2017), and Confessions of a Mormon Boy (2020).
At the centre of this production is Genevieve Morris, a veteran comic actor recognised for her work in Comedy Inc. and Colin from Accounts. Having critiqued Morris in Celebrity Theatre Sports (2011), The Good Person of Szechuan (2014), and Egg (2016), what stands out is her ability to balance comedy and drama with equal aplomb.
Morris is also the key ingredient in bringing this important piece to fruition; in 2017 she was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. In Morris’ own words, she says:
I have lived experience of cancer and treatment and remission and cancer again… so it’s empowering to be able to talk about Cory’s journey of diagnosis, prognosis, treatment and acceptance.”
Her performance mirrors Taylor’s own courage and wit, infusing the work with emotional depth and authenticity. Whether she’s weaving through the audience, shifting between multiple characters with split-second precision, or speaking directly to us, Morris delivers the performance of her career – a captivating blend of humour, honesty, and humanity. At times, she evokes the wisdom of Judi Dench, the gravitas of Noni Hazlehurst, and the comic agility of Tracey Ullman, all rolled into one. Perhaps the masterstroke in Dying is allowing Morris to occasionally break the fourth wall. By moving in and out of character, as viewers we are given permission to similarly settle in.
The production’s layered stagecraft transforms Dying into a truly shared experience. James Lew’s set and costume design – reminiscent of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time or Buyer & Cellar – resembles a giant advent calendar, filled with trapdoors and hidden compartments that Morris opens at key moments. Rachel Lee’s lighting design adds clarity and texture, with a digital display above the stage tracking significant milestones throughout the performance.
Meanwhile, Darius Kedros and Todd J. Bennett’s sound design and composition empower the atmosphere with musical interludes that mirror Taylor’s own thoughts.
Even after the lights dim, the conversation continues. Audience members are invited to write postcards sharing their reflections on life and death, pinning them to a communal board displayed in the foyer.
At just 85 minutes in length, Dying is compact yet profoundly affecting. (Providing a performance space which is up close and personal , the Fairfax Studio at Arts Centre Melbourne is the perfect venue for this immersive experience.)
Anchored by Morris under the supportive guidance of Tong and Law, Dying: A Memoir transforms challenging subject matter into life-affirming theatre. Against the odds, the team has turned a seemingly unmarketable topic into must-see viewing.
Image: Pia Johnson
