Palpable talent shines through on every level in this incredible story of friendship and community during the AIDS epidemic

Tell Me How It Ends is a product of the Young Everyman Playhouse Writers programme and is writer Tasha Dowd’s debut into the world of theatre writing… and what a debut! The two-person, one act performance, directed wonderfully by Gitika Buttoo, follows the story of Aster and Marc as they navigate friendship, mortality, and what it meant to be Queer during the AIDS epidemic in the late 80s and early 90s. References to literature and pop culture were abound – as well as mentions of iconic clubs from a bygone era of Liverpool’s queer scene. It is clear that a lot of research went into this script, and it was masterfully done. You would be forgiven for assuming that Dowd was writing from their own experience.

Luke Sookdeo is Marc, a gay man who has been diagnosed with HIV. We see him through the eyes of Aster, played by Emmy Stonelake, as he struggles with his diagnosis and the isolation that comes with it. Sookdeo was flawless. Marc’s pain was palpable as we watched him lash out at his increasing loss of control, his fear and anger and hope and love for Aster reverberated throughout the room. But Aster… oh. Oh my. Emmy Stonelake was incredible. Larger than life, thoroughly Welsh, and deliciously Queer, Stonelake brought so much energy to the stage. Her ability to emote so subtly and yet so clearly was magnetising… but it was the dynamic between her and Sookdeo that stole the show. At times I felt almost voyeuristic watching Marc and Aster interact, seeing their relationship develop and evolve – there was an intimacy there that is seldom seen, and it was beautiful.

Katie Scott was the set & costume designer, and her attention to detail was impeccable. The set was brilliant. A hospital bed, an apartment, and a little B&B all occupied the stage throughout, and clever lighting design curtesy of Jack Coleman provided the perfect atmosphere for club scenes. It was a busy stage despite there only being two performers, but rather than being a distraction the set was dynamic; Sookdeo and Stonelake were in command of the space throughout. But it wasn’t just a cool, interesting layout – it was realistic. Aster’s apartment took me back to sitting in my Nan and Grandad’s living room in the early 90s, right down to the coffee table and the doilies on the arms of the chairs. And the costume! It was simple, it was effective, it was nostalgic – from Aster’s glasses to Marc’s slippers, it was clear a huge amount of thought went into bringing these characters to life, and to great success.

Movement director and choreographer, Grace Goulding, also did a stunning job, alongside Annie May Fletcher as sound designer. Outfit changes and dancing interludes, punctuated by some fantastic music (including Liverpool’s own Echo and the Bunnymen), were done so well. “Remember the video?” – cue a campy, fun, synchronised performance that dripped with character and Queer joy. 

This is a story about the AIDS epidemic. You know how it ends. But that shouldn’t stop you from going to see it and joining the characters on their journey. Yes, you’re likely to leave a little heartbroken, but that is what good theatre does – it makes you feel. I am a gay man, and while I didn’t live through the AIDS epidemic, I can see the effect it has had on our society – the thousands of queer voices lost, the normalisation of dehumanising people who are ‘other’, the rhetoric that is still used today to facilitate segregation of LGBTQ+ people. Tell Me How It Ends is a message of hope, a reminder of the strength we have had and will always have as a community, and a celebration of the bonds that can form through adversity. While this is undeniably a Queer story that does not mean that it is only for Queer people – Tell Me How It Ends is, above all, a snippet of our recent history, and one that is often ignored and omitted. I will be keeping an eye on Tasha Dowd’s writing.

Historically HIV and AIDS has been seen as a ‘gay’ disease, but in 2022 diagnoses of heterosexual people overtook those of gay men – and not for the first time. Modern medicine can treat and prevent these diagnoses so much more effectively now, but to do so people, regardless of sexuality, need to get tested. HIV is no longer a death sentence.