In 1974, French medievalist and philosopher Philippe Ariès (1914–1984) wrote of the shifting Western mindset toward death that, "The old attitude, in which death was both familiar and near, evoking no great fear or awe, offers too marked a contrast to ours, where death is so frightful that we dare not utter its name." 

^{Philippe Ariès in 1977. Photo by Sophie Bassouls for Le Figaro Littéraire}

 
Ariès traced the historical transition of human attitudes towards death from an approach that was both open about the reality as a part of life and the collective in the ways in which we dealt with them, to the contemporary treatment of death as both medicalized and taboo. Since Ariès’ work was published, the overall attitude of death as a failure of medical science, or the antithesis of life rather than a natural phase of it, has persevered. However, many artists, writers, philosophers, and community groups have created work to address this schism. 
 
  

^{A Death Café gathering in January 2016 at the Ziferblat cafe in London. Courtesy of Ziferblat.} 

In 2011, web developer Jon Underwood and his mother, psychotherapist Sue Barsky Reid, founded an organization called Death Café. Based on the ideas of sociologist Bernard Crettaz, Death Café is a gathering where “people, often strangers, gather to eat cake, drink tea and discuss death” with the objective to “increase awareness of death with a view to [help] people make the most of their (finite) lives.” 
 
That same year, author, funeral director, funeral industry reform advocate, and well-known creator of YouTube channel Ask a Mortician Caitlin Doughty founded The Order of the Good Death. The Order is an entire organization rooted in death positivity. As they say on their website:

 
“The Order is about making death a part of your life. That means committing to staring down your death fears—whether it be your own death, the death of those you love, the pain of dying, the afterlife (or lack thereof), grief, corpses, bodily decomposition, or all of the above. Accepting that death itself is natural, but the death anxiety and terror of modern culture are not.” 

^{Caitlin Doughty. Photo by Holly Andres for The New Yorker.} 

Explorations of living and dying in the media often utilize humor to confront our own mortality. This approach can achieve results that a frank conversation may not, simply because of the psychological distance and freedom of exploration that art provides. 
 
 

^{Still of Kristen Bell from Season One, Episode One of The Good Place, created by Michael Schur. Promotional shot for the third season of Six Feet Under by Gregory Crewdson (2003).}

From television about moral philosophy and the afterlife like The Good Place, to shows that concern themselves more with the effects of death on this side of the veil such as Six Feet Under, or films that examine the tension between an obsession with death and the eager embrace of life like Harold & Maude, we can learn to laugh along with and accept death—even if we still fear it.  

 
 
 
^{A still from Harold & Maude (1971) with Ruth Gordon and Bud Cort. Film by Hal Ashby.}

 
In the theater world, plays like Wakey, Wakey (Will Eno), For Peter Pan on Her 70th Birthday, and Dead Man’s Cell Phone (both by Sarah Ruhl), take on similar functions—cathartic art that prompts us to consider life, death, and all its repercussions. 
 
Enter playwright and performer Brendan Healy.

^{Brendan Healy, writer and performer of Eulogy, or How to Plan Your Own Funeral (and have fun doing it!). Photo by Tanya Izadora Photography.} 

“You can’t spell ’funeral’ without 'fun’” is one illuminating quote from Healy about his critically acclaimed show  Eulogy, or How to Plan Your Own Funeral (and have fun doing it!), now playing through October 11 in Seattle Rep’s intimate PONCHO Forum. In Eulogy, Healy addresses the multiple doctor-delivered death sentences he was handed throughout his childhood and young adulthood that have yet to actually happen. He doesn’t make light of death, nor does he wallow in self-pity. Instead, Healy chooses to meet death head-on with a celebration of his life and humanity—and we’re all invited along for the ride.

^{Qui Qui Dominguez in Pony World Theatre’s 2025 production of Eulogy. Brendan Healy in Pony World Theatre’s 2025 production of Eulogy. Photos by Brett Love}. 

 
During an interview with Q13’s Adam Gehrke on “Good Day Seattle,” Healy described the show’s approach: “It is a very honest, extremely vulnerable look at death. But this show also tries to destigmatize it by looking at it very irreverently, through humor.” 
  
Ariès described a world in which death was familiar and near, and where speaking its name required no courage. We can't return to that world, but we can build new versions of it in small rooms: around a table at a Death Café, on the screen, in the pages of a book, or in a theater where strangers laugh together about the one thing that will happen to all of us. 
 

^{Claire Idstrom, Brendan Healy, and Monica Cortés in Pony World Theatre’s 2025 production of Eulogy. Photo by Brett Love.} 
 

Healy's Eulogy is a welcome addition to this brave new world, using vulnerability and humor to remind us that a life lived in full awareness of its ending is not a grim one, but a more vivid one. We may still fear death, but we don't have to face it alone or in silence.

Bring a friend, bring a family member, and bring an open heart to a subject you've been avoiding. You might be surprised at how much lighter you feel.

Experience Eulogy, or How to Plan Your Own Funeral (and have fun doing it!) for yourself. Playing in the PONCHO Forum at Seattle Rep through October 11.

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