In February 2005, BBC journalist Kate Peyton died from a gun shot wound in her back whilst reporting in Somalia. Her story has since been worked into a one-woman show written and performed by her sister Rebecca Peyton (later to be co-written and directed by Martin M. Bartelt) called Sometimes I Laugh Like My Sister. After an extensive tour over many years it has settled into the Finborough Theatre for a limited run.

It is, by and large, a challenging piece to critique. The intimate nature of both the Finborough and the nature of a one-person show coupled with the personal nature of Rebecca Peyton’s story makes for a hit and miss situation. Do we step back and judge this as a piece of theatre, or do we give over to the personal aspect of a loved one being murdered in a foreign country, and a story being told from this? We do both. Sometimes I Laugh Like My Sister is inherently political; Peyton makes references to the unstable idea of foreign reporters across the world surviving in often fraught situations, yet she also weaves between the personal implications of her own life and that of her sister, providing antidotes, and taking us on the emotional ride of discovering that death has come too soon.

It’s a piece that once delivered will linger in the audiences’ mind, until ready to be deigested. A piece of theatre that is subtle and unobtrusive –  it doesn’t demand or fight, rather it eases gently into our subconscious. If truth be told, it was only after I had returned home that Peyton’s story seemed to hit me. This is why Sometimes I Laugh Like My Sister seems to appeal. It isn’t the best piece of theatre, it isn’t the best story, but it is personable. It is taking the life of someone who was clearly loved and celebrated and putting it on the stage. That isn’t an easy thing to achieve.

Thankfully it’s not a piece that will leave you wallowing in pity or sadness, as it’s peppered with the comedic tales of Peyton’s before, during and after-Kate moments. These light-hearted moments are juxtaposed against the long struggle that Peyton and her family endured during the inquest into Kate’s murder, where perhaps the BBC’s lack of time for Kate to prepare herself added to her death. Perhaps this is why Sometimes I Laugh Like My Sister is even more important, to keep the message going. A quick search online proves how real Kate’s ordeal was and, as Peyton ends the piece with all the victims in the last year who have also died on foreign soil, it continues to be a real ordeal still.

Sometimes I Laugh Like My Sister is playing at the Finborough until 23rd January. For more information and tickets, see the Finborough Theatre website.