Booked & Scene

Chris Grace wrote and stars in this one-man piece, a tight 60-minute show really lands directed by his husband, Eric Michaud. He asks the audience to imagine a projector and then imagine the images flashing across it as he recounts the people he has lost throughout his life. The piece nudges us to grapple with hard questions, almost all centered on death, and to consider how joy can still exist when the ending for all of us is the same. What works so well throughout is the seamless way Chris mixes humor with heavy subject matter. The two jokes his family deemed “too dark” for the show brought some of the biggest laughs of the night, proving his skill as both a writer and performer. It takes a certain touch to take on a subject most avoid, and to do it so openly and hilariously.

Laughing Through the Dark

The comedy lands throughout, from sharp asides and Boston-specific nods to a three-part “Please Don’t Stop the Music” singalong that the audience eagerly joined. The way Chris revisits his most painful and heart-wrenching memories night after night is a feat few could manage, and even fewer could pull off so well. It’s a gift to be invited along on this journey, asked to reflect not only on our own lives but also on the mortality of the people we love.

A Frame Left Empty

The stark set, just one stool and the imagined projector, works overall, but I did wish the family photo had been integrated into the piece instead of displayed only afterward. If you slip out quickly, you might miss catching a glimpse of the photo entirely. Another note: while Chris’s witty commentary on religion played perfectly in progressive Boston, I found myself wondering how those same lines might be received in places where faith is more central to daily life. That said, his joke about his friend “godsplaining right to the end” was one of the sharpest of the night. These are minor quibbles in an otherwise tight and moving piece.

Death, but Make It Funny

I was skeptical about what a “comedy about death” might look like, but it turns out that tagline is exactly right. Grace blends highbrow humor with the intimacy of stand-up and the resonance of theater, guiding us through a journey whose ending we already know. And yet, the ride feels fresh, cathartic, and oddly heartwarming. I’ll gladly follow Chris into the darkness anytime.

Sardines (a comedy about death) runs through November 16, 2025. 

📸: Annielly Camargo