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Coma - Press Reviews Peter’s “got leukaemia,” comments Phelim McDermott as we watch one of the cast members lying still on a bed: “it’s not a particularly theatrical subject.” As it turns out, Peter’s coma is theatrical in as much as death is a fit subject for comedy; that is to say, it is, but only in the right hands. Peter’s story is only one of two that make up Improbable’s Coma, the other being the tale of director Phelim McDermott’s ten-year obsession with Arnold and Amy Mindell; the king and queen, if you like, of the near-death experience. As it turns out this obsession is in itself the story of Improbable; Arnold Mindell’s suggestion that one can rehearse for death, or effectively pretend to be in a coma seems to have furnished the group’s working methods, as has his willingness, when communicating with coma patients, to go with any suggestion, however, well, improbable. Improbable cannot leave the unexplained alone. In 70 Hill Lane, Phelim McDermott, Guy Dartnell and Lee Simpson got to grips with the phenomenon of poltergeists. In Lifegame, the same team used its unique brand of improvisatory theatre to unearth the formative experiences of childhood. Now, with performer Arlette Johnson on board, its latest work illuminates the mysterious and little-known world of coma victims. The show, McDermott explains, was inspired by the work of Arnold Mindell, an American therapist who that far from switching down, people in comas are subject to meaningful and sometimes visionary experiences. Most importantly, they often respond to a basic ‘yes-no’ system of communication. It is this last point that forms the spine of the show. The performers re-enact a real-life story of a man’s descent into a comatose state and his friends’ attempt to prick him into responding to questions. It is tighter and more controlled than Lifegame, and finds the group returning to its brilliant use of props and puppets. In one inspired moment that recreates a coma vision, toy town buildings and figures rush over the silhouetted body of the ill person. There are many more touches as inventive. Most impressively, the team steers clear of explaining or patronisingly accounting for such experiences. Instead, Coma – with cello accompaniment from Hannah Marshall and Karin Heberlein – slowly builds its own charming landscape that suggests the fear, confusion, beauty and, very often, humour at the heart of the condition. It is Improbable’s most satisfying piece yet.