In Merely Beloved, Elaine, grieving her husband Joe’s sudden death, becomes consumed with investigating his possible infidelity from the afterlife, all while avoiding the reality of her loss. Written and performed by Shoshana McCallum, this darkly humorous exploration of love and grief asks, where does love go when we die?
Grief and comedy are uneasy companions. One demands vulnerability and openness, while the other often relies on timing, absurdity, and an audience’s willingness to laugh in discomfort. In Merely Beloved, writer and performer Shoshana McCallum attempts to combine these opposing forces in a longform solo performance that explores death, loss, and romantic obsession with dark humour and emotional honesty. The result is a unique and thought-provoking piece of theatre that dares to ask big questions—but unfortunately, it doesn’t always find the right balance in answering them.
At the heart of Merely Beloved is Elaine, a middle-aged woman who has just lost her husband, Joe, to a sudden heart attack. As the story unfolds, we learn that Elaine may have accidentally played a role in Joe’s death. This would be devastating enough, but she is far more troubled by the possibility that Joe is now reunited in heaven with his first wife, Jenny. Rather than confronting her grief, Elaine tumbles into a spiral of suspicion and speculation, convinced her dead husband may have been unfaithful—from the afterlife.
The premise is rich with dramatic and comedic potential. McCallum has created a protagonist who is both deeply flawed and painfully relatable. Elaine is not interested in a tidy, sentimental narrative about loss. Instead, she obsesses, deflects, reminisces, and imagines. Her grief becomes entangled with her pride and insecurity. The show doesn’t just ask “Where does love go when we die?”—it also pokes at the more uncomfortable question: what if love lingers, but changes shape in ways we can’t control?
This is not a play that follows a traditional structure. Told as a monologue, the performance is punctuated with frequent flashbacks and tangents that add depth to Elaine’s backstory. She recounts the early days of her relationship with Joe, including their quirky habits, inside jokes, and awkward dance moves. These memories are warm and humorous, offering glimpses into the happier times that make her present heartbreak all the more poignant. However, these interludes also interrupt the main narrative arc so frequently that the piece struggles to maintain momentum.
The play’s minimal staging matches the intimate nature of the story. The Herald Theatre’s steeply raked seating gives the audience a clear view of the stage, but McCallum’s sole prop—a simple chair positioned near the front—means that many viewers may find themselves craning their necks for extended periods. A slight repositioning of the set and lighting could have significantly improved comfort and focus, without undermining the stripped-back aesthetic.
Costuming is similarly understated. McCallum is dressed in casual, comfortable clothes that reflect Elaine’s recent loss and emotional fatigue. The visual choices reinforce the show’s focus on realism and raw emotion. However, the minimalism that suits the themes also comes with challenges. With no visual cues, scene changes or supporting cast, the transitions between characters and timelines rely entirely on McCallum’s performance. While her acting is committed and often compelling, the frequent shifts can become confusing or emotionally flat, particularly in moments that require more contrast or subtlety.
Humour in Merely Beloved is best described as situational and reflective rather than laugh-out-loud. The comedic elements come primarily from Elaine’s internal contradictions and her skewed perceptions of reality. There are moments where her absurd jealousy or sudden shifts in tone invite uncomfortable laughter, but more often than not, the humour remains suspended in ambiguity. This is not necessarily a flaw—many of the best comedic works about grief leave space for awkwardness—but without stronger narrative clarity or support from other characters, these moments often struggle to land.
The show does contain several standout passages. One particularly memorable scene sees her attempt to contact Joe in the afterlife, not for closure, but to interrogate him about Jenny. These moments capture the play at its best: raw, funny, and uncomfortably real. They reveal a woman who is trying to make sense of love, betrayal, and mortality all at once.
Yet, for all its strengths, Merely Beloved never quite delivers the emotional heft its subject matter promises. Grief is explored with honesty, but it remains at a safe distance. Elaine’s refusal to directly confront her feelings is a clever narrative choice, but without other characters to challenge or contrast her perspective, the emotional stakes begin to feel muted. Similarly, while obsession can be fertile ground for comedy, in this case it sometimes veers into repetition. The final act arrives quickly and with an abrupt resolution to the story, which may be the point—but it also leaves the audience reeling, wanting just a little bit more.
There is, however, real promise here. McCallum clearly has a gift for crafting complex female characters who defy convention and easy interpretation. Elaine is a study in contradiction—guilty but blameless, grieving but petty, smart but deluded. In a multi-actor production with more varied staging, her character might have had the space to fully develop. One could easily imagine Merely Beloved as a full-length play with a supporting cast, allowing Elaine’s narration to be countered, confirmed, or complicated by other voices.
In its current form, though, the one-woman format imposes limits that the show never quite overcomes. The intimacy of a solo performance brings certain advantages—particularly in confessional storytelling—but it also demands extraordinary precision in tone, pacing, and clarity. While McCallum has the talent and commitment to carry much of the material, the performance occasionally falters under the weight of its own ambition.
Still, it must be said that Merely Beloved is a refreshing addition to the comedy festival circuit. Its blend of dark humour, emotional inquiry, and narrative experimentation sets it apart from more conventional fare. It may not be perfect, but it is certainly brave. In a festival environment where many acts aim for easy laughs or familiar formats, McCallum’s work stands out as a genuine attempt to push the boundaries of what comedy can be.
Merely Beloved is less about answers and more about the chaos left behind when love and death collide. It is an uneven but thoughtful exploration of mourning, memory, and the absurd ways we try to make sense of loss. For audiences willing to sit in that discomfort—and crane their necks a little—it offers something rare: a story that dares to be different, even if it doesn’t quite reach its full potential.
Merely Beloved runs from 8 May - 10 May 2025 at Auckland's Herald Theatre and 20 May - 24 May at Wellington's BATS Theatre, The Dome.
Tickets can be purchased here
Presented as part of the NZ International Comedy Festival with Best Foods Mayo, from 2 – 24 May 2025