Category: Theatre Reviews
Azan Ahmed’s play about a young Muslim man’s journey towards discovering his father provides ample opportunity to tell the story of those on the margins, but is let down by its unoriginality.
By Hamza Jahanzeb | 16 October 2024
Photo credit: Harry Elletson
The Bush Theatre has, in recent years, brought their A-game when it comes to commissioning new writers and minorities voices to the fore, so it was a surprise to me that I hadn’t visited their smaller, studio space until I came in to see Statues.
If you make a sharp right from the entrance (opposite the Shepherd’s Bush tube station), it’s mere steps hidden away space which houses circa. 40 seats. Intimate, you could say. I even catch a glimpse of an actor in The Real Ones being directed by Stage Manager on duty during a performance taking place in the larger Holloway theatre. Risky business. However, starting the performance of Statues at 8pm meant that there were no further interruptions for the cast, otherwise that could have leant into a programming nightmare.
I was invited to come to this smaller space to seer Azan Ahmed’s Statues. The premise for it is simple: A young Muslim man grieves his father who we find out died ‘in his sleep’, and is collecting his possessions from an estate in South Kilburn (SK) and comes across a cassette player which reveal his pious religious self the son knew his father for was predetermined by a phase as ‘Double MC’, a wannabe MC with dreams of getting a record deal with Sony Music. As a teacher in the local area, he mentors – or fails, some would say – his young Muslim pupil Khalil who dares call Hamlet as a ‘radical.’ Consequences are felt by all characters, but it meanders in ways so as not to have one focus in reality. On paper, it reads as an intriguing play about discovering a father’s old cassette tapes.
Though, as it unfolds, we are given much of what previous playwrights have brought: a ‘Prevent’ policy, gentrification and sadly loss. Where this play sparkled were in its flashbacks of the 90s, where the two men on stage (Ahmed as his characters father, meanwhile Johnny Khan as ) grab wired mics and treat the audience to an electrifying live rap. It just felt like there were three plays in this one play, and it needed work to make it much more focused. It felt like it was a first draft, in desperate need of a robust edit.
The set comprised of a solid, brick-like tower block: 50 Wordsworth Drive, in SK (south Kilburn). Yet another play about prevent and gentrification, I thought. I’d be lying if Yusuf didn’t remind me of my experiences: read English (albeit at Oxford), and then went on to be a teacher (I give talks to students considering Publishing), though it really sparkles when we heard the narrative of his father. It’s an uneven play, with gliders of but ultimately flawed. Even at 85 minutes, it’s in need of an edit and a sharp understanding of the thorough exploration of grief: and more importantly, to redeem itself from being yet another “Prevent-play”. Sadly, the lack of women in the play are notably evident: the gamified acting of the auntie (Dolly) doesn’t land as intended, bordering on cringe as opposed to endearing.
Similarly, Yusuf’s mother seems to act as a a mere plot device where there could have been an interesting interrogation of separation which isn’t common in traditional Pakistani-Muslim families. I wanted her story, and I was sadly denied it.
Had this play been about Mustafa, and his experiences alone I guess that’d be much more an exciting trajectory instead of bringing it to the Prevent-Plays we’ve grown accustomed to. It’s almost as though there’s a level of oversaturation and this is sadly where it misfired, despite fun live performances (which as a stand-alone, would have been excellent viewing).
Until 9 Nov 2024 only | https://www.bushtheatre.co.uk/event/statues/
** N.B. This is an honest review, in exchange for a gifted / complimentary ticket. The reviewer has written this with their editorial control, with no external influence on how to frame the show. #AdvertisementFeature #PRInvite #Gifted #ad **
A flawed plot is somewhat rescued by strong performances in Oli Forsyth’s Brace Brace.
By Hamza Jahanzeb | 20 October 2024
Photo credits: Helen Murray Photography
Sylvia (Anjana Vasan) and Ray (Phil Dunster) are two lovers at the heart of the latest drama to grace (brace? SORRY) the upstairs space of the Royal Court. It details the story of lovers as they survive a plane hijacking, and have to decide how they will move on with their lives after one of them really did help to save the entire aircraft of crew and passengers. Ideally, I’d love to have seen a one-woman play with Sylvia as a matter of fact (the heroine in all of this), and her grounded. Instead, Forsyth chooses to splay the dialogue across the couple with a third actor to play several roles, including the Hijacker himself (played terrifyingly by Craige Els). We also have an odd choice to have a fellow survivor Layla (Leila?) whose father is also played by Els.
Now, to begin with, I did enjoy the way that the set was designed and the runway-inspired (no, not the RuPaul kind) staging was quite groovy as far as sets go. Given the small intimacy, it was nice to see a metre feet between the actors. There were no moments at which the actors had their backs to the audience for too long.I must admit I was expecting for the set to half-move in some way shape or form – perhaps level the runway set – but it remained stationary for the duration to my dissatisfaction. Given the brilliance of what was achieved with Blue Mist, it felt like the lack of innovation in the set was a misfire, when this could have been remedied with a turbulence-free vision by the creative team.
That is not to say, however, that the immersive experience was below par; in fact, at times I did feel like I was in a metal tin-can ready to take flight (or descend in this hijacking’s case). The mixing of the sound and lighting created a superb illusion, and almost too real at times. This play is not the kind of plane for anyone who’s afraid of flying, that’s for sure!
The writing in this play sadly didn’t lift off, but had its moments of sparkle on an intermittent basis. More specifically, it holds a mirror up to couples whereby the power-dynamic is evident: Ray is clearly threatened by Sylvia’s standing in life, and I found that ought to have been explored more. The conviction of Vasan and Dunster as the couple provides a believable portrayal of straight relationships, despite the reality lived being somewhat lacklustre and beyond the imagination. Vasan stands out as the strongest actor (most recently seen in Wicked Little Letters and opposite Paul Mescal in A Streetcar Named Desire) and Dunster’s (Ted Lasso) portrayal of Ray is satisfactory thouugh I note that his accent switches between two resulting in lack of considered consistency. There’s a particular scene where the character of Sylvia is interviewed on television, and this is where I felt Daniel Ragget’s direction was at its most creative. The screens either side of the stage show the live interview. Otherwise, the first half felt like too much walking around involved (*almost* a health-and-safety hazard for the actors on stage, not instilling confidence in the audience members watching).
Overall, this is a show that shines a light on a honeymoon gone wrong (how many people do you know have had their plane en route to honeymoon hijacked?). It could have benefitted from a sharp edit of the plot points and attention paid to the dialogue. The ‘pilot’ of this show needed a Sylvia-esque rescue, but sadly its too far-fetched a plot failed to bring any sense of momentum for a sustained period.
Until 9 November 2024 only | https://royalcourttheatre.com/whats-on/brace-brace/
** Note: I paid £15 for my ticket, with the 30 and Under scheme that the Royal Court partakes in. I won’t be 30 for much longer, and am making the most of this offer for those who can benefit from a concession rate. I have not been gifted the tickets in this instance, and the editorial line in the above review is all my personal control and from what I saw on the stage with no external bias/influence/portrayal of the material on stage. **
Gulati and Syal prove they are titans of the stage in this gripping, thoroughly-researched story exploring the lives of a family who suddenly come to terms with an Alzheimer’s diagnosis.
By Hamza Jahanzeb | 13 October 2024
Photo credit: Manuel Harlan
“[I got into the role] by waiting for a part that I can connect on every level. And for me this was such a personal project because I do feel like I am telling our parents’ stories […] With this role, I relive what I felt and saw every night. Whilst it’s painful, it’s also an honour. It’s a conversation we need to have. And for me, that’s what theatre is about.”
– Meera Syal on BBC Woman’s Hour (10 October 2024) with Anita Rani discussing A Tupperware of Ashes.
A diagnosis of Young-onset Dementia can be a debilitating experience for any family, so to centre this is as the focus of Tanika Gupta’s play is a rather bold choice. After having recently had her play The Empress performed at the Lyric Hammersmith and the RSC, A Tupperware of Ashes brings Gupta back to the South Bank and for the second time at the NT (her first outing was with The Waiting Room in 2001).
This play’s modern setting is a far cry from The Empress; instead Gupta focuses on a family’s unravelling as the head matriarch is given her diagnosis. The Creative team – including Meera Syal, Tanika Gupta and Shobna Gulati – have all experienced the disease affect their own loved ones.
A Tupperware of Ashes offers catharsis to families affected by the illness and further, it sheds a light on the often heart-wrenching trajectory. It’s a rallying cry to bring humanity to people whose own lives are left in an uncontrollable state.
Before I get into the show itself, I firstly must tell you all of my experiences in this smaller theatre space which is only a hop, skip and jump from the two main stages – the Olivier and Lyttleton stages – of The Royal National Theatre of Great Britain (more commonly known as the National Theatre, or NT). I’ve seen some brilliant verbatim theatre (Grenfell: In Their Own words) and most recently popped by to see Katori Halls’s The Hot Wing King – which really levelled up the possibilities for me in terms of what can be achieved in the space. In similar fashion to that excellence, Gupta’s A Tupperware of Ashes – directed by Lotus Beauty director Pooja Ghai – is created with Rosa Maggiore on the set design and Matt Haskin’s lighting. This, coupled with Nitin Sawhney’s music really does allow for a well-balanced transitions between scenes. It is a feast for the ears hearing the music that lifts, elevates and transports the audience with it in this piece.
The direction always engages the audience member, as you take a front seat in the lives of the Mukherjees. One moment you may be rooting for gay son Gopal (played brilliantly by Marc Elliott mixing the perfect amount of being non-conforming vs. being the dutiful, doting son); the next, the ever-so-diligent medical school attendee Kamala (Natalie); or even for Raj (Raj Bajaj), whose character arc as the eldest never strays into the stereotyped territory.
“ Is my life worth living? Did I make a difference?”
A Tupperware of Ashes (2024)
As Queenie’s best friend Indrani, Shobna Gulati (dinnerladies, Coronation Street, Everybody’s Talking About Jamie) truly brings a marvellous invitation to a character the audience lap up every given moment they’re on stage. On the night I attend, there are belly laughs and a comedic charm that Shobna’s Indrani possesses with ease. From the very moment Gulati graces the NT stage adorned in a gorgeous silk gown and holding a glass of bubbly, it’s hard not to keep your eyes on them. It’s also difficult to believe that this is their debut at the NT, for they oozes warmth and a confidence that only seasoned professionals emulate.
Gulati’s own understanding of the topic – her own mother died after being diagnosed with dementia – means that there’s a thorough authenticity, understanding and nuance from within for many of the Creatives involved with the play. There’s verve, and versatility in the acting – be it the sisterly bond that many from links to the Indian subcontinent will see themselves reflected in- but also the more touching moments towards the end that are universal to the shared human experience.
There were several occasions in this production whereby I too was really impressed with the illusions (designed and directed by John Bulleid, of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child fame) which had fellow audience members and I audibly gasping (!) at the magical moments on stage. Rosa Maggiora’s set is similarly profound and sumptuous. The tender unravelling of Queenie’s mind is showcased with threads, possibly showcasing the inside of her brain as jolts of electricity. Either way, the audiences are invited to the zapping away of ordinary function as Queenie deteriorates. Bring your tissues as I’ve never felt so overcome with emotion in a piece that it was comforting to hear the sound of grown men sob in the audience.
I’d also like to highlight the colour-palette for this show, which is steeped in shades of blue, a motif of the ripples that comes with sinking into an illness in an uncontrollable manner; the auditorium is bathed in a haze as you enter, and the engulfing of a illness truly takes the audience members into the piece.
As a duo, both Syal and Gulati give honest, believable performances (one a perfect masterclass in comedic timing, the other in how disease takes hold of a strong personality) that draw you leaving you hungry for the next instalment of their friendship (I hope there’s a prequel somewhere in the works!). There’s bags of laughter in Gupta’s script (despite the rather sad topic), and even a cameo of Asma Khan’s (of Darjeeling Express/Netflix Chef’s Table fame) cookery books which again bring the piece up-to-date to the 2020s.
Ameet, the somewhat omnipresent late husband of Queenie is played with a sense of hamminess by Zubin Varla (Fun Home, A Little Life, Tammy Faye); however, we do get to witness his stunning voice in the second act — “Still the Stars will Shine”, with a backdrop to Nitin Sawhney’s stunning compositions.
Now onto Ms. Meera Syal herself, whose BAFTA fellowship was awarded in 2023. Here, away from her Goodness Gracious Me characters, she plays a more serious role as head matriarch, Queenie. The performance is full-bodied, a very nuanced perspective of a woman whose intergenerational trauma is lived on the stage. There’s care, attention and a visceral depth informed by Syal’s personal experiences of having parents with the illness. The stages of the illness are clearly explored, and the change to the brain are reflected in electric lighting moments. The physicality with which Syal showcases the manifestation of the illness is to be heralded as a success, proving why she’s one of the nation’s strongest actors.
Earlier in the play, Syal’s Queenie is filled with bitterness and disdain for her children; the constant sniping attacks to the partners of her children prove to be too much for the trio birthed by her. Essentially, she comes across as a horrible mother and one whose sympathy is gradually won over by the end. I was a fan of Syal showcasing the loss of muscle strength with the usage of a crab-like hand-pincer movement to depict the final stages of the cruel disease. Her physicality and research into her character is suitably impressive. In one of the most poignant scenes, we watch as a Syal plays Queenie devoid of any human emotion, sat upright in a chair as family members come to visit. The piece covers the COVID-19 period showcasing the glass screens (remember those?) where families weren’t able to hug their loved ones.Ghai’s direction here distills the isolation felt by all whose worlds Queenie orbits.
As far as theatre nights go, A Tupperware of Ashes is a superbly entertaining evening to feel high emotions, but also enjoy those laughs that Syal and co. can deliver effortlessly.
Do what you can to get yourselves to the South Bank to see this exceptional production, that’s VERY nearly sold out: it’s not every day that we are blessed with a predominantly South Asian-led cast and creative team at the NT, so well done to Rufus Norris’ outgoing team for showcasing British South Asian excellency (there are, after all, 5.5 million of us as recorded in the last Census). I’m very excited to see what the new incoming Artistic Director’s (Indhu Rubashingham) vision for the venue and what they’ll also bring to the table.
Go see Tanika Gupta’s new play if you want to see two of the nation’s most prolific actors in a strong play that manages to leave a lasting impression. With this thought, I very much look forward to Gupta’s next work and hope it isn’t another twenty-four years before her works grace the NT once again given the sheer poignancy of this piece.
Until November 16 only | https://events.
** N.B. This is an honest review, in exchange for a gifted / complimentary ticket. The reviewer has written this with their editorial control, with no external influence on how to frame the show. #AdvertisementFeature #PRInvite #Gifted #ad **
* CREDITS & TICKET / LISTING INFORMATION *
Writer Tanika Gupta
Director Pooja Ghai
Set and Costume Designer Rosa Maggiora Lighting Designer Matt Haskins
Composer Nitin Sawhney
Sound Designer Elena Peñ6a
Illusions Director and Designer John Bulleid Movement Director Anjali Mehra
A nerve-wracking journey into the horrors (quite literally) of being stateless, laced with bags of comedy is what cements Bhatia & Bhattacharyya as two of the most exciting theatremakers in Britain.
By Hamza Jahanzeb | 10 October 2024
Last night, I attended my first production at the New Diorama theatre (NDT), an off-West end producing house that has knocked out the park some absolute bangers like Operation Mincemeat, For Black Boys to name just a few. In just over a decade, the venue has really shone for its ability to nurture talent at its central London location.
The UK Government itself defines ‘Leave to Remain’ as the last hurdle before a migrant decided to settle in the UK. And in this spook-tacular production, lovers of both fright night content and social justice narratives will surely be gripped to the edges of their seats as this nail-biting drama unfolds.
“Big, angry bear,
Drags you by the hair,
Rough, wet tongue,
Licks you ‘til you c*m.
Sharp, curved claws,
Tear your silky drawers,
Smooth, arched back,
Hear your spine go crack.”
– King Troll (The Fawn)
My first performance at this exciting 80-set venue was created as a co-production between Kali Theatre – whose works I’ve long admired from afar – and the NDT. It’s an interrogation of the migrant’s experience to adapt and settle, whilst facing emotional challenges.
The central plot of King Troll (The Fawn) revolves around two sisters – older sister Nikita (played by Zainab Hasan) and Riya (played by Safiyya Ingar) who are both fighting the legal system to achieve the unachievable for Riya: her Leave to Remain status. Added to this stellar duo is Ayesha Dharker who plays the landlady Mrs B. and Shashi (a friend-of-the-girls’-mother) with both pizzaz and hearty comedic chops. Every moment Dharker is on stage is never a wasted one, as she knows how to create a laugh amongst the crowd. The remaining two people in the cast are Diyar Bozkurt as Tahir, whose emotions run high when dealt a blow to his character’s status. The playful nature of his character showcasing his love for football, I felt, could have been explored a little more.
Finally, we have as Dominic Holmes as The Fawn – a sort of summoned beast – and the physicality with which he plays this role is marvellous. It’s a masterclass in how to contort, captivate attention of the audience whilst keeping us on tenterhooks.
The industrial set (complete with soil dotted around) is surrounded by wired mesh material; the entrapment the characters face is further enhanced in the austere set design by Rajha Shakiry. It sets a high bar for future productions in this intimate venue. Further, Shakiry’s set is eerily clever in the way the scenes ending, and subsequent movements – deployed by Iskander Sharazuddin – connects effortlessly to the powerful words of Bhattacharyya. The script is strong, and there is one monologue that the Fawn delivers which is done so with great conviction, under Bhatia’s direction. For a moment I felt that the Fawn was entering my soul, it was that menacing!
A stand-out moment for me was the Fawn managing to fold its body, and my eyes were constantly glued to Dominic Holmes’ next steps. His ability to magnetise the audience with a creepy physicality is what really shone in this production. Bhatia’s direction was evident as being measured, never straying into overkill. The balance of horror and comedy achieved is to be commended, and displays Bhatia’s strong directorial chops.
Moreover, the lighting (designed by Elliot Griggs) instills the intended fright at every given opportunity. The way the spotlights follow each character, coupled with the expressions of the actors brings to the fore the thriller-fuelled moments. These seamlessly enhance the drama as it unfolded. A word of note, however, is that the productions used strobe lighting so do read the warning were you to be sensitive to the flashing lights.
Overall, this story is one that many immigrants (or families of immigrant heritage) will find resonate to their own lived experiences. Whether it is scrabbling for pieces of history (the girls seeking to find papers to prove their mother’s work at the cleaning company), or the fact you may need to carry out actions that can be portrayed as being a traitor to your has a native, the writing speaks to a wide audience. I was transfixed as Bhattacharyya and Bhatia’s world is given the crisp sound design from XANA to haunt us; we are transported to the strange world of the Fawn and the Choudhury sisters from the very beginning.
King Troll (The Fawn) is genuinely a thrilling watch – I’d not been to a show where I’ve audibly gasped and shrieked. For me, someone who enjoys a bit of a scary plot, it really was a visual feast. The only comment I had was with regards the structure that I felt didn’t wholly seem conceived and felt somewhat rushed. I’d personally have liked to have seen a more feasible ending for the characters involved (it didn’t seem as neatly thought-out as the first half of the show), but I do appreciate the care and insight that the entire piece depicts of those who are stateless.
This production will cause many audible screams in the local vicinity, as well as barrels of laughter as far as Great Portland Street station. And for that alone, I heartily recommend this; with a stellar cast including Zainab Hasan and Dominic Holmes, the entire creative team’s mission to entertain and bring fun to an evening at the theatre is thoroughly achieved.
Until 2 November 2024 only | https://newdiorama.com/whats-on/king-troll-the-fawn
**N.B. This is an honest review, in exchange for a gifted / complimentary ticket. The reviewer has written this with their editorial control, with no external influence on how to frame the show. #AdvertisementFeature #PRInvite #Gifted #ad **
* Credits & Ticket / Listing Information *
Writer – Sonali Bhattacharyya
Director – Milli Bhatia
Designer – Rajha Shakiry
Associate Designer – Yimei Zhao
Lighting Designer – Elliot Griggs
Composer and Sound Designer – XANA
Movement Director – Iskandar Sharazuddin
Fight Director – Bret Yount
Casting Director – Arthur Carrington
Assistant Director – Neetu Singh
Production Manager – Chris Burr
Wellbeing Practitioner – Eshmit Kaur
Stage Manager – Alexandra Kataigida
Assistant Stage Manager – Masha Kononovs
Tahir – Diyar Bozkurt
Shashi/Mrs B – Ayesha Dharker
Nikita – Zainab Hasan
The Fawn – Dominic Holmes
Riya – Safiyya Ingar
A co-production between Kali Theatre and New Diorama Theatre. Co-commissioned by New Diorama Theatre.
Mon – Sats, 7.30pm
Sat matinees, 3pm
Babes-in-arms: 2pm, Thur 31 Oct
Previews (4 – 8 Oct)
£16 full price
£3 unemployed / on strike
Main Run (9 Oct – 2 Nov)
£22 full price
10% discount for groups of 6+
No booking fees
Playtexts available at the theatre for £7
Running time:
90mins, no interval
Content Warnings: Contains blood, intense strobe lighting, periods of darkness, loud noise, haze, physical violence, smoking, coercion, racism, descriptions of torture and gore, strong language and sexual content.
Age Recommendation For ages 15+
Latecomers not admitted.
All ticket sales subject to Terms & Conditions.
Captioned 7:30pm, Thur 24 Oct
Relaxed 7:30pm, Wed 30 Oct
Babes-in-Arms 2pm, Thur 31 Oct
Our venue is wheelchair accessible. To reserve a wheelchair space in the auditorium, please email hello@newdiorama.comwhen booking.
For more information, click here
A charming drama of the realities of a Korean family in Canada running a convenience store felt a little glossed over, but manages to pack a comedic punch.
I must start this review by inform you all that I’ve not seen the TV show Kim’s Convenience Store, so do forgive me (gasp!) for not knowing of the extensive backstory of the television show that started out as a fringe show in Toronto. However, luckily for the show’s fans, we’re treated to Ins Choi (the original TV show’s writer) who has stepped in to play the patriarchal figure of Dad. I am reliably informed that the show began as a play in an off-fringe Toronto venue. Additionally, we have the original TV show’s Janet Esther Jun directing this edition.
Whilst it is a charming, sparkling watch – I did feel like the set design being one-sided (i.e. the inside of a convenience store), and very briefly a church complete with stain glass window, it made me feel like I was in a live-recording of a show. Which is not necessarily a bad thing! I felt hugely entertained, but honestly I would have preferred to have something a bit more innovative when it came to the staging of what was a witty script and great performances by the actors on stage.
Each performance was measured, though I did want a little more from the writing when it came to the exploration of the mother-son dynamic. That did feel – to me – a little rushed: though I also suppose not everything can be condensed into an 80-min long show. It was great to have the topic of race displayed, but in a non-conventional way to the British audiences. We don’t have a large population of Korean immigrants, but we are seeing more Korean popular culture grace our capital.
Alas, the costumes, lighting and directing of the piece broadly created a piece that will showcase the lives of ordinary immigrants communities in Global North countries – and for that alone, the show was an uplifting and enjoyable watch.
I’d be happy to see a bit more work, but for fans of the show (as my party was privy to) there was still depth and elements that will keep the viewers of the now-ended show more to take from Appa’s store.
UNTIL 26 OCTOBER 2024
Riverside Studios | https://riversidestudios.co.uk/see-and-do/kims-convenience-120980/
** N.B. This is an honest review, in exchange for a gifted / complimentary ticket. The reviewer has written this with their editorial control, with no external influence on how to frame the show. #AdvertisementFeature #PRInvite #Gifted #ad **
Little Women tells the story of headstrong Jo March and her sisters Meg, Beth and Amy as they grow up in New England during the American Civil War. In this adaptation written by Anne-Marie Casey, the production brings the timeless coming-of-age classic to life once again.
This brand-new York Theatre Royal production of Alcott’s beloved novel Little Women which is on in the Main House stage from 21 September to 12 October.
Freya Parks leads the cast as Jo March, with having recently starred in the BBC television series This Town and Here We Go. Ainy Medina as Meg, Helen Chong as Amy and Laura Soper playing the role of Beth. The sisters are very much portrayed in an authentic manner, and the sibling depictions felt truthful to the book. I also enjoyed that they were all of differing races, a bold choice which pays off for the director Juliet Forster. The chemistry is palpable, as is the role of Marmee played by Kate Hampson.
The stand-out in the cast for me was Nikhil Singh Rai who played the role of Laurie. The acting choices garnered some brilliant believability and the handsome charm of Laurie oozed out of Rai. We also gain huge laughs from Caroline Gruber as Aunt March, the snobbery and acting choices here not being over-played to create a fine balance as the action unfolds.
There is a clear journey from childhood to adulthood in the mid-19th century of the sisters, and this is well executed under the direction of Juliet Forster. One of my favourite scenes involves an ice-skating incident is cleverly captivating (thanks to Jane Lalljee and Ruari Murchison’s splendid combination of set-design with lighting).
The re-using of the set, which we saw in a Pitlochry Theatre Festival’s production is to be commended, as the wooden furniture brings alive the feeling of a home and silver bitch tree trunks also give the outdoors-vs-indoors in an understated manner. As a fan of musicals, I couldn’t not also enjoy a little bit of singing with a real piano on stage.
Overall, this is a safe production that doesn’t seek to stray too far from conventional norms when showcasing on a traditional proscenium arch. It’s entertaining, enjoyable and a great night out at the theatre. I’d love to return to the gorgeous theatre, given its to be showcasing a world premiere in Emma Rice’s North by Northwest next year.
York Theatre Royal 21 Sep-12 Oct
Box Office 01904 623568 | yorktheatreroyal.co.uk
**N.B. This is an honest review, in exchange for a gifted / complimentary ticket. The reviewer has written this with their editorial control, with no external influence on how to frame the show. #AdvertisementFeature #PRInvite #Gifted #ad **
A considered look into the plight of asylum seekers, and an enlightening portrayal of recently arrived, first-generation Kurdish immigrants in neoliberal England.
By Hamza Jahanzeb, 24 September 2024
Photo credits: Jack Bush
If you were to ask me, I’d confidently tell you that I am not an expert on Kurdistan or Kurdish people, the ethnic group native to the mountainous region of Kurdistan in Western Asia – which spans southeastern Turkey, northwestern Iran, northern Iraq, and northern Syria.
‘How can you disappear if you were never
really there?’
– From Ostan (2024) by Arzhang Luke Pezhman
The World Premiere of Ostan by Arzhang Pezhman explores the lives of those stuck in the UK immigration system in the studio Park90 situated within the Park Theatre, a stone’s throw from Finsbury Park station.
Whenever I head to a Turkish Barbershop the chances are, fifty per-cent of the time, that the people working with whom I have a chat inform me they are proudly Kurdish. I sit and nod, as I am aware it is a place not formally recognised across most of the work (bar a section of Iraq called Iraqi Kurdistan) but nowhere in the region is willing to allow the people, from the Turkish to Syrians and also Iranians. The history of such people dates back to the early twentieth century, and of an historical promised land that never did become a state to accommodate the Kurdish people.
In this story, we meet the sparky Rebin who has himself been stuck in the UK immigration system for almost a decade. Working at a local hand carwash, he plays online video games with his customer Noah – a Black Briton – and on a war path to have himself granted settled status in a country that has left him in limbo for nearly a decade.
There is most certainly an evident hierarchy in the car wash workplace, with Destan running (himself being an Iranian-Kurd) it for the wealthy businessman flounderer Shapur (who we note is from Iranian). When Görkem, a Turkish-Kurd newly arrived immigrant, joins the car wash – with big claims to be the grandson of a Kurdish ‘freedom fighter’ Apo Ocalan, Rebin isn’t impressed.
The drama unfolds as Shapur proposes to use this car wash for a front of a deceptive human trafficking ring, when Rebin’s life is throw into a spiralling downfall as he comes to terms with the realities of his underhand work.
Initially, I have to remark the wondrous book for this: Arzhang Pezhman’s research into the lives of the communities (a patriarchal brotherhood) is a gift to the audience. The writing flows, with rhythm and a beat that feels authentic. The representations of Muslim characters, especially Destan praying salah at the start of the piece is very well researched and authentic in its depiction of how Shi’a Muslims pray. I don’t often see Muslim characters on stage – and when I do, it’s a common trope or stereotype. So this was a welcome and accurate description which many theatre makers simply lack or make inauthentic (I’m looking at you Come From Away).
Therefore, to have Ostan bring a humanised story of a people’s struggle were what made it an effective piece of theatre. Its audience is in the people who are gravely concerned by the dangers that asylum seekers face when embarking on the perilous journey to reach a safe space (which in this case is the UK).
Hats off to the casting director for aligning the accurate portrayals. Each character in this production felt like they had been cast with authenticity. There’s also extra kudos to the translators listed for the following languages: Kurmanji, Sorani and Farsi. Again, when the dialogue of the language is spoken, Pezhman’s script engages with the non-native speakers. Further, there is an astutely realistic portrayal of masculinity of the diaspora community. The play never shies away from the realities that they face, and presents the want for a better life. It also depicts a clear line between how successful one can be, but also the naivety of an immigrant newly arrived in Britain.
Where is sometimes falls is the rushed build up to a fight scene, which I think could have had a smoother build up. Other than that one scene, it’s a rather witty, sharp and grit-filled script that blends one scene into the next. Though the ending is moving and powerful, isn’t entirely surprising.
On the directing front, Gaby Dellal does an all-in-all satisfactory job. I did notice one key issue with the staging in this small studio space is that I believe that there’s not a lot of room to navigate when having audiences sat on each side. The viewpoint of those towards the ends of rows felt obstructed, and a good director would consider these for all seated (and paying) members of the audience.
I personally felt like the action could have better presented itself on a proscenium stage (there was too little room for actors to navigate around at times, which appeared clumsy). The intimacy of the Park90 studio space meant that the scene changes felt at times laboured and lengthier than they need to have been. There’s scenes with projections, which looked OK but didn’t necessarily add a great deal. Additionally, it was a unique touch have rails depicts transport (via a motor vehicle), but ultimately there tight-knit space led to a few mishaps with the set positioned on wheels when moved around. A further minor grumble also meant that I’d also have preferred actual water come out of the hose pipes in the opening scenes. However, having the car wash barrels being somewhat filled with water did extend the naturalism of the piece when a cloth is thrown at Görkem.
The set (Liz Cooke), sound (Oğuz Kaplangi) and lighting (William Reynolds) must be commended for this production. Firstly, the puddles on the floors are painted with shades of blue, and a white faux leather chair with splashes of blue (which matched the shoes of the workers) felt like a lot of time and effort had been spent on achieving the right atmosphere. In fact, the sound Kaplangi evokes was truly brilliant shifting the scenes in all manners of excitement. To have Rebin walk on the opening song ‘Zigidi‘ by Biji set the scene very well and immediately immersed me into the lively action on stage.
Discussions of anti-Black racism faced by the character of Noah (played by El Anthony) raises the intra-POC community discussions on how we perceive one another in a Global North setting. Görkem’s character is written with nuance (we even get a POC version of ‘But, where are you really from?) and Arzhang Pezhman never fails to bring laughter as well as a moving drama where it necessitate in this piece.
The team of creatives do all provide nuanced insight into to how newly arrived immigrants constantly feel they need to prove their existence, even if it means having to lie about your personal connections. Serkan Avlik’s portrayal of Görkem brings a lot to Ostan, his energy being consistent and the study of Alvin’s character shines with his intentions being aligned with the writer’s ability to write comedy and vulnerability simultaneously.
Overall, this is a striking piece at the failures of the British government and the devastating impact it has on those waiting for years on end. Coupled with a strong cast (particularly – Ojan Genc’s characterisation of Rebin and also Dana Haqjoo as the convincing Shapur) make this a show that is quietly pertinent to the hostile anti-asylum times which we are unfortunately living through today.
This piece, in my opinion, has the power to change perspective on those who have no choice but to flee their homes, and we should bring them closer to our herts instead of humiliating them even further as our nation seemingly does so.
Until October 12 at Park Theatre’s Park90 space: https://purchase.parktheatre.co.uk/EventAvailability?WebEventId=ostan
** N.B. This is an honest review, in exchange for a gifted / complimentary ticket. The reviewer has written this with their editorial control, with no external influence on how to frame the show. #AdvertisementFeature #PRInvite #Gifted #ad **